Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thump thump thump .

It didn’t cease, it didn’t stop, a constant beating sound, low but distinguished. Akin to a conduit yet so much more sinister, worse, yet it was everywhere . Grian had found it increasingly harder to sleep, the sound followed him to all corners of the world, he could even hear it in the nether and the end now. At times it felt stronger, but it was a sound that followed him, he couldn’t escape it. It was louder than the ocean but more subtle than mobs, it had been weak at first, as he’d gotten to know the other hermits it hadn’t been all that bad… but then the war, it had become more prominent, during his build battle it felt like it was pushing him to win . Even his time as a hippie had not saved him, he could still hear the sound, rumbling just under the music that he and Ren had enjoyed while hanging around the camp.

Right now though, right now nothing was going on, there was no major events, just all of his friends and himself building minigames or tending their shops. Despite this the beating was louder than ever, like a drum rattling right through his ears. It was impossible to ignore now, impossible to just brush off as the distant noise of redstone machines, it was persistent, unbearable.

With a frustrated noise he gripped his covers and cast them off, standing with a huff and glaring up at the sky outside his base as if to dare any phantoms to come after him, it would be their mistake. It didn’t take him long to gear up, moving with practiced precision as he pulled on what little armor he cared to wear and grabbed his weapons. In a movement that nearly extinguished the torches near him he unfolded his almost oversized, robin like wings. They barely brushed the floor as he raised them for a large and powerful beat that took him to the air. Another powerful snap to burn off some of his tired frustration and he was propelled out of his base, leaving a scattering of brown and red feathers in his wake.

The night air was crisp, a little salty which matched his current mood, annoyed at the forced insomnia caused by this insufferable sound. It left him aggravated and as he flew past Scar’s base where he found himself half tempted to drop down and leave some sort of annoying trap. The sound was more important though, he needed to find it’s source once and for all.

He needed to make it stop.

Grian didn’t know exactly where this sound was coming from, but he followed the bone rattling vibration as he sailed along the winds, sailing past bases without much notice or care of who they belonged to. He let the rhythm call him, he didn’t even realize his wings were beating in time with it at this point. His mind honed in to a single focus, on how strong he could feel the song without melody. Before he really realized it he was long past any place explored by other hermits, the passing of several days had come and gone before he could even register the warmth of sunlight on his skin and feathers. Finally though, he felt a pull, downwards. The sound was loud, intense, so strong he felt he might faint, like it could change the very rhythm of his heart. His wings trembled with exhaustion once he set down on the edge of a crumbling stone structure, coated in dirt but no grass, no moss. The coarse floor was almost black, more gray than brown. There was a large hole ahead, where dirt was dispersed and crumbling stone stares led deep below. Despite the darkness Grian started down without hesitation, without concern, fully enveloped, completely entranced now. His wings dusted long lines of dirt off of the steps as he went, catching light, whispy cobwebs as he brushed through them. They clung to his hair and feathers but he cared not, unable to even register them beyond pushing them from his field of view. The walls were carved but the designs were time worn and long indistinguishable, whatever they had once depicted would forever be a mystery. Darkness wrapped the landing at the bottom of the stairs like the cloak of the reaper, yet Grian wasn’t afraid, he didn’t even reach for a torch as he ventured forward, his footfalls sounding in time to the rhythm, the sound guiding him past any pitfalls the shadows hid away. The funneling of the sound made it seem like a long corridor, the intensity was breathtaking, leaving Grian to labor for breath but he was ensnared, there was no turning back, no escape, no logical thought to pull him free of this spell.

Finally the corridor opened into a large room, the beating reverberating off of the high stone ceiling and wide walls. There was a faint, ghastly glow from a pedestal in the center of the room, the source of Grian’s plight and he headed towards it with no hesitation. Floating there, resonating the heartbeat so sinister, glowing faintly, was a single book. It’s cover was black, darker than coal, it was shut with a dangerous looking clasp, the tarnished silver looking sharper than necessary. The book looked old and worn but the power resonating from it had only grown with age it seemed. It’s call impossible to turn away from and so, Grian took hold of the old tome, wrapped his fingers around the clasp to open it. He didn’t even flinch as it cut his finger. The rhythm was so intense at this point he felt like his body would be shaken apart, he just wanted it to stop . Yet at the same time, with the book in his hands, he felt an overwhelming sense of death looming all around him and he for a moment felt he might die this moment. Still, the call had brought him here and thus… He opened the book… and was bathed in blessed silence.

--------

Grian wasn’t sure how many days he’d been flying, he knew he was tired but the task at hand was too important for him to rest now. He was flying fast, his wings burned from the strain of the long journey and lack of rest, he was hungry but ignored that just as much. With a tilt and angle to his wings his glide turned to a loop and he gracefully circled down to a soft landing on the ground next to his DSD game. A smile, a sinister chuckle, pulled at his tired features and he strode forward a few steps, ‘Yes, this will do.’ He thought, before building a large black board with a skeletal hand grasping it. It was here he placed a lectern… and the black book. It’s glow had become so mild it wasn’t noticeable, but the cover seemed to have healed, it didn’t look nearly as old as it had in it’s tomb, it was almost unassuming, almost as innocent looking as any other book. The ‘game’ it offered was alluring, the riches it promised to the winner spurred the Hermit to comply to the book’s simple demands of him and only a short while later Demise was set, ready for the others to start writing their names down into the enchanted pages, to place offerings they unknowingly marked as worth their own souls into the adjacent chest. The first diamonds, the first name… Was Grian’s own.

No sooner was his name scratched down there was a shift in the air, a change to the very atmosphere itself. Though Grian was too tired to truly notice, too relieved to register any difference, the sky above shifted, an oppressive presence rose into the air like evaporating morning dew. He stumbled off and collapsed into bed, happy to rest, uncaring of the price of silence.

---

Settled on the beach of Tower Bay, Xisuma watched the sky with concern, as the sun dipped low the entire horizon was splashed in the most crimson of red he’d ever seen outside of the nether and his concern only deepened when the moon rose and it’s white surface was tainted with a tinge of red, a blood moon was rising. He stood, a feeling of unease settling in and in the distance… there  was the faint sound of… a drum? A heartbeat? He wasn’t sure but he felt a pull to it.

Before the strange feeling could take hold he spread his wings, the dragonfly like appendages fluttering, the moon shaped circles on each casting a faint gold glow on the ground under him as he lifted up. It was often a bit of a struggle to get into the air but once there flying wasn’t that difficult. As long as he kept focused he wouldn’t drop out of the sky like one of Jevin’s unneeded blocks tossed from a wall. Fighting the wind only slightly, he took a route to Python’s towers, glad he didn’t have to fly far to reach the other Hermit. Xisuma landed softly in the grass between the towers and just a glance he spotted the hermit he was looking for.

“Oh, hey Xisuma!” Python said cheerfully, setting a block in place before turning to face him.

“Look up.” Xisuma said in an unusually grim tone and Python did, indeed, look up.

“Oh… oh dear that doesn’t look good.” The red creeper man admitted before glancing back to Xisuma.

“Can you hear that sound as well?” Xisuma asked and Python fell silent a moment before shaking his head.

“Nothing unusual.”

“Alright. I’m going to investigate but I don’t trust whatever this is, I have a bad feeling. In the meantime if you could gather…” Xisuma fell silent a second, looking past Python as his mind focused on which hermits would be the best ones to act as anchors. Xisuma was oblivious to the way the light from his wings trailed across his entire body while he did this, his link to the very land allowing him to sense who would be unaffected by… whatever was coming. “Zedaph and Wels. Get them and meet me in the nether hub. I’m not sure how long it will take me to get back but this is urgent.”

“Consider it done.” Python assured him, his wasp wings spreading in the ready position to carry him in the air, their naturally red color glimmering in the strange moonlight.

“Thank you.” Xisuma nodded and kicked off the ground, his glowing wings fluttering as he carried himself up into the sky, flying the opposite way from Python.

----

The song was more enticing but still strangely melodiless as Xisuma landed on the pathway in front of DSD and a new game. He had to admit it looked a bit imposing with the giant skeletal hand draping over a massive black wall. Glancing to the left, just inside the DSD fence, Xisuma saw Grian dozing on a bed unceremoniously plopped there. Instantly Xisuma was sure that hermit had something to do with this, it wasn’t just proximity, he could sense something about the situation but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was yet. He approached the new stand, glancing from the chest on the left to the stack of them on the right to the lectern between. Something about the book settled there… it didn’t sit right with the Hermit Leader, still, it was his responsibility to investigate. The song gripped him as he approached the book, settling into the back of his mind like it belonged there, the strange rhythm seeming perfectly natural despite how much he knew it wasn't.

Xisuma placed his hands on either side of the lectern, leaning in to read the contents of the book placed there. It… seemed innocent enough… he thought. It was fifty diamonds to enter the game, then write his name down… in his own blood.

“Bit dramatic…” He muttered as he continued reading over the rules, brushing off the odd rule even though his judgment would normally be better than that. Somehow the rules of dying putting players on the ‘dead team’ didn’t stand out as odd to him, that traps would start getting set for the other living hermits. A small part of him, a small voice in his mind tried to warn him that something was wrong about this, dangerous, yet it just wasn’t strong enough to stand against what at that moment looked like a perfectly innocent game. Drawn in, Xisuma found himself wanting to play, without further consideration he took the required number of diamonds from his enderchest and placed it in the chest beside Grian’s bet. He then signed his name, cutting his finger with the quill pen before gliding letters onto the page.

No sooner was the last letter down did the strange song fall away, leaving Xisuma staring at the book with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, the feeling that something was brewing and he was now trapped within it. Unnerved, Xisuma set the pen down and turned away, walking quickly back for the nether portal, he needed to report back to Python, warn them to stay away from the minigames district and that book.

-----

It always felt like his wings had to work that much harder in the sweltering heat of the nether, this time was no different as Xisuma drifted down to the lower level of the hub. It was no small relief to let them go still once he touched down on the glass and he quickly glanced around to see if the hermits he’d requested to meet would be waiting. He was anxious to get what he’d learned passed on before the strange spell could alter his thoughts further, he was already disturbed by the trance he’d fallen into when he approached the book. He got the feeling that unsettling pull, that strange song, would only get stronger and ensnare more hermits.

He spotted the three milling about the market district portals and headed over, his expression grim, though only his eyes could be seen. His arms crossed and his pace quick as his mind quickly brushed over everything there was to consider, some of it felt oddly hazy, like it would be difficult to share.

“Ah, there he is. Did you figure out what the strange red sky was about?” Wels asked as Xisuma reached them.

“I did and it’s a bit disturbing. There’s a book in the minigames district and something is… something is off about it. Stay away from that area at all costs, understood? Once I was close enough I was left with no will of my own until I put my name in it.” Xisuma admitted, it was obvious from his voice alone that he was worried about all this.

“What kind of book is it?” Python questioned, concern lacing his voice.

“A book of rules, a place to collect the names of those who will enter a game. But it’s a game of life and death.”

“Wait, are you serious? It’s deadly?” Zedaph questioned, going pale at the thought, his blonde, batlike wings falling open and dropping to drag the floor as if pulled by a weight of dread.

“I had to find out what was going on and I did. Now, as best as I can tell you three have a better chance of avoiding the book’s call. What I need you to do is figure out if there’s some way to make whatever this is, stop.” Xisuma explained, dead serious.

“And if you die in the meantime?” Wels questioned, his tone was serious, his expression was that of the stalwart knight he was, but there was a slight twitch in one of his blue jay wings, a hint of anxiousness as he didn’t want such a fate to befall any of his friends.

“Then we find out what exactly death means in this game. No matter what happens to me, I need you three to keep looking, to find a way to free everyone this game ensnares.”

“Can’t we just… prevent anyone else from signing up?” Python asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, that would solve the problem, wouldn’t it?” Zedaph added.

“I don’t think you can, but give it a try.” Xisuma shrugged.

---

Grian strolled through the market district with a carefree air, a casual pace and while he had a purpose for being here, he was totally relaxed. It felt like he’d been on edge for so long but now, now he finally had peace as well as direction. It was a blissful feeling. As he meandered along the path he kept an eye open for any other hermits and a smile split across his lips when he spotted two inside of Scar’s shop. Without hesitation he headed that way, giving no heed to the two’s possible want of privacy, considering they were amid a somewhat heated looking makeout session. Grian had a message to share and he didn’t really care if he was interrupting.

Grian stepped into Cherry Computers and lightly knocked on one of the glass doors, startling Iskall and causing him to jump back from Scar, who had previously been pinned to one of the display tables. Both were as red as the dust Scar sold here.

“My my… looks like we have a scandal on our hands. A Sahara board member in bed with Concorp.” Grian said with a teasing, laughing tone.

“It’s not what… hang on now Grian.” Iskall started to argue but Grian waved a hand.

“I don’t care what you do in your spare time or who with, it’s fine.” Grian smiled.

“Wait, are you serious, you don’t mind?” Scar asked, surprised, Iskall looked equally shocked.

“Of course not, we may be rivals in business but we’re all friends at the end of the day and you and Iskall make a cute couple.” Grian said with the warmest, friendliest of smiles.

“Well… that’s a relief.” Iskall said, letting out a breath.

“I’m still going to tease you to no end, of course.” Grian smirked.

“I’m really not surprised by that.” Iskall sighed.

“That aside though, I’m glad I found you both, I have a new game in the minigame district, well, more of an event because you have to sign up. There’s a deadline.” Grian explained, excitement bubbling at telling the other two.

“Oh, sounds like fun, I’ll have to check it out.” Iskall nodded, as did Scar.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Hrmf. If you can get past Mr. Wels the Knight.” Came a new voice, disgruntled and Grian turned to see who had approached the shop, it was Keralis.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Grian asked, confused. The new hermit walked past to join them inside the shop, giving Grian a view of Keralis’ bee like wings, they were on the small side, almost not proportionate to his body. He hadn’t really spoken to Keralis much yet.

“I mean that meanie is hanging out in front of the signup booth not letting anyone near, not even this innocent gambler. He even yelled at me!” Keralis explained, quite annoyed and disappointed.

“Don’t worry about it, just come by and sign up later, alright? I’ll have a talk with Wels.” Grian assured him turning to leave, his earlier happy mood disappearing in a blink at the news. While he didn’t let it show the fact someone was blocking entry into the game had his feathers ruffled in the worst way.

-----

Stepping through the portal at the minigames district he spotted Wels right off, over by the demise board, kneeling in front of the lectern but with his back to the book. Grian could feel the dissatisfaction in the songless melody that rolled out from the pages. Setting his shoulders and making his posture as casual as he could Grian headed towards the knight. Wels had his sword stabbed into the ground in front of him, one hand wrapped around it’s handle, the other resting upon its pommel. The knight was down on one knee, his face downcast so Grian couldn’t see it at first. As he got close though, Wels looked up.

An easy smile slipped onto Grian’s face, seeing the state of the Knight, it was clear Wels was having to really fight to resist the book’s call like this. A bead of sweat ran down Wels’ face as his eyes met Grian’s own.

“Oh come on, why don’t you just sign up?” Grian asked with a friendly tone.

“I won’t be signing up and neither will anyone else. This book is something bad and I’m not going to lose anyone else to it.” Wels said firmly and Grian felt his smile fall away, whatever his expression became seemed to confirm something for the Knight. Grian watched as Wels’ determination seemed to redouble, stubbornly staying right where he was.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Grian said, his tone more threatening than he realized it could be but he turned away, walking down the path until he was out of Wels’ line of sight. After a moment’s thought he spread his wings and took to the air, heading for the Hippie camp. Sailing over it he saw there was still a community of Hipillagers living out their lives in peace, Renbob’s RV was gone though and Grian didn’t really give much thought to where the Hippie might have headed off to. He just landed in the vacant spot and glanced around, spotting the chest he wanted after only a moment. He went over, opened it up and sure enough, it was still loaded with crossbows and rockets intended for scaring foxes. Weapon in hand Grian slammed the chest with as much force as he snapped his wings, throwing himself into the air almost haphazardly but quickly gaining control of his assent. He made a beeline back to the demise board, landing atop the skeletal hand as quietly as he could. He knelt there, glad the sun cast his shadow behind him so Wels would have no warning as Grian took aim. They were weaker rockets, not intended to do much damage but Grian was hoping a direct hit to the back of the Knight’s helmet might be effective. Grian fired and grinned at the shower of sparks that sent Wels’ helmet flying. There was a clatter as the Knight collapsed on the ground beside his sword, motionless.

Grian hopped down, wings spreading to let him float gracefully down where he knelt beside Wels. The Knight was motionless, his armor made it impossible to tell if he was breathing or not but there were a few smouldering burns on the back of his neck and head. A wicked laugh escaped the builder as he stood, pulling Wels’ sword from the ground and flinging it at the river before taking hold of the Knight by the neck of his chestplate. He scooped up Wels’ helmet as well and dragged the unconscious hermit towards the nether portal. He couldn’t have anyone interrupting like this, it was unacceptable.

Chapter Text

“I really doubt it’s anything that bad.” Impulse said, waving a hand dismissively to Zedaph’s concerns.

“No I’m serious guys, please just sit this one out.” Zedaph insisted, blonde bat wings spread to block Impulse and Tango’s path.

“Dude there is a game to be played and diamonds to win. And the more of us that sign up the bigger the prize!” Tango laughed, finding Zedaph’s request to be preposterous.

“Please, it’s not as straightforward as it seems.” Zed continued pushing but Impulse shook his head.

“Seriously, it’s a game. You sit out if you want to and watch everyone else have fun.” Impulse said and pushed past Zedaph with Tango, leaving their friend behind as they passed through the nether portal. Impulse couldn’t figure out why Zedaph had such an aversion to this game, it was just a game after all and it sounded like a lot of fun the way Grian had put it. 

Together he and Tango made the trek through the nether once again, heading for Hermit Land as they had quite a few times this week, though Impulse had also started work on a minigame in the area, since Tango had as well they’d been over there a lot lately. Impulse couldn’t really put a finger on the sound he’d been hearing lately when in that area but he found himself excited to finally be signing up for the game. Playfully he and Tango bantered on their way back out to Hermit Land, the journey through the nether feeling far less like a hassle. As they stepped out of the other side Impulse caught Tango’s hand in his, generally enjoying the moment. The sun was high above, it was warm out and the games district was always a fun place to be. He didn’t let Tango’s grip slip from his own until they reached the book.

Together they peered down at the rules and somewhere in the back of Impulse’s mind Zedaph’s warning tugged, his eyes passed right over the warning of potential death as if it was no serious thing. He felt drawn to add his name to the list and somehow didn’t realize the inclination was not one of his own. Slicing his finger with the razor sharp quill Impulse added his name to the book, not quite able to even register the warning feeling at the back of his mind as he handed the quill over to Tango. He felt almost trance-like, unable to pull away from the lure of this unorthodox game.

“Looks like a lot of us are already signed up, Zed really is missing out.” Tango noted after signing his name and Impulse felt his mind clear a little. He glanced down at the list of names, so long now that Tango’s had ended up on the next page.

“Cub is going to be difficult to beat.” Impulse noted, reading through the names, Grian’s at the top of the list wasn’t surprising, Xisuma’s was a little though. Cub, Rendog, Stress, Keralis, Bdubs, False, TFC, Iskall and Scar had all already signed up.

“We just have to work together, the Vex can’t beat us.” Tango laughed, perhaps overconfident but Impulse didn’t really mind, he enjoyed Tango’s positivity and laughed with him, ready to face the world.

---

Doc sat on the edge of the fountain outside of the stock exchange with a quiet huff, pausing in his round of his shops to check his wounded hand. He was annoyed at unwrapping the bandage, considering he wasn’t going to get it back on as well as Rendog had it. As he examined the wound though, he realized he probably didn’t need to bother keeping it covered much longer. That in itself was a relief but still, he wrapped it back up, as he did, he heard someone approaching and glanced up. It was Python and he looked concerned.

“You haven’t signed up for demise yet, have you?” Python asked, tone dead serious, expression matching.

“No, that was today’s plan though.” Doc admitted, tilting his head a little as he regarded Python.

“Don’t.” Python said firmly. “Don’t even go back to the area.”

“What’s the matter man? I’ve never seen you this worked up.” Doc admitted, unsure if he should be concerned or if this was just part of the game. He hadn’t read the rules yet after all.

“That game is dangerous, there’s a book and hermits can’t resist it, not even Xisuma could deny whatever power it has. Wels went to stand guard and stop people from signing but now he’s missing.” Python explained and Doc found himself tensing up.

“That… is the kind of thing Area 77 was built for. If it really is a danger it needs to be locked up. I have to go confiscate that book before anyone else is drawn in.” Doc said, standing and starting past Python.

“No! You can’t get close to it Doc.” Python reiterated.

“I have to try.” Doc said firmly, leaving no further room for argument.

---

No sooner had Doc stepped through the portal did he catch a very strange sound, something that was felt more than heard, it made the segments of his wings rattle. He made his way towards the source, on edge as he felt it trying to entice him, a voiceless whisper, an intention that was not his own trying to ebb into his mind. He scowled, making his pace quick as he held his goal firmly in mind.

It was quiet in the area other than the strangeness radiating from the book, no one was around. No one would see him take the book, that was probably for the best. The pull of the thing was all the stronger as he reached it but Doc bit his lip and closed the book, removing it from the lectern. It felt even more like intrusive thoughts were trying to eat their way into his brain. He shook his head as if that would shake them loose, holding tight to his own intentions of locking the book deep underground. Turning back towards the path Doc nearly jumped out of his skin, startling him was no easy feat but, what stood before him was… not right.

Grian stood still as death, silent as the void. His eyes had a sort of large, empty hauntingness to them, like his mind had been rattled right out of his ears and his soul had been stolen away. His expression was blank, there was nothing to give away what thoughts he might have, but Doc felt uneasy looking at the usually expressive prankster. Something about his posture, the entire blankness of him made Doc’s skin crawl. It felt somehow worse than staring down a dangerous predator.

“What are you doing Doc?” Grian’s voice carried a chill, threatening with a forced, broken friendliness underneath.

“Nothing to worry about Grian, just carry on man.” Doc said dismissively, trying to dissuade the potentially deranged hermit. Everstill the book was calling to him, whispering, singing, all without words, without a voice yet impossible to ignore completely, compelling him to add his name to it.

“Don’t you want to play, Doc? It’ll be fun. Just think of all the diamonds.” Grian said, his voice taking a coercive tone, expression relaxing into something normal yet… sinister.

“I… I don’t need diamonds.” Doc muttered, his argument feeling weak, suddenly he was uncertain of his reasoning.

“It’s going to take a lot of skill, you’re smart though, if anyone is going to beat Concorp it’ll be you.” Grian practically purred.

“Con.. corp… is playing huh?” Doc asked, his purpose starting to slip, he grasped at it but already he had forgotten where he was going to take the book.

“Yep, everyone is. You should join us Doc. You don’t want to be left out, do you?” Grian asked, stepping closer, gently placing his hands on the book Doc was holding, Grian’s motions caring something akin to reverence as he opened the book. Doc found himself unable to resist reading the rules… they seemed harmless enough, he just had to wear weaker armor and just… live. He only needed to add diamonds to the pot, to sign his name…

Conveniently Grian held out a quill and Doc took it, letting Grian hold the book. Using the sharp edge of the quill Doc cut just a small line next to his healing wound before signing in his blood. As Grian put the book back in its place Doc put the required number of diamonds in the chest and only once he’d stepped back did something settle back in. The oddness of the situation, the creepy vibe of Grian, that soundless sound that had creeped into his very bones. He felt like he’d become a victim, that he’d failed to do whatever he’d set out to but he couldn’t remember what that purpose was. He felt tense as Grian circled back around him, smiling too wide to be genuine.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“No…” Doc said, turning away from him, suddenly having the urge to get away from this place before something else could happen. His wings still rattled so he just walked towards the river, trying to settle his heart, drawing in a deep breath. When he glanced back Grian was just gone like he’d never been there to begin with. That just added to Doc’s freighed nerves and he glanced back at the bubbling river as if it might hold some answer to what was going on. What he saw instead was the glint of a diamond sword.

“Wels went to stand guard and stop people from signing but now he’s missing.”

Doc swallowed against the rising lump in his throat and stepped into the cool water, letting himself sink down under its surface, scanning the riverbed for any clues but there was nothing but a sword stabbed into the sand. He took it and swam back up, stepping out of the water to study it closer and indeed, it was Wels’ there was no mistaking the weapon of the stalwart knight. Cursing under his breath he hurried back to the portal, rising a few blocks into the air once on the other side and zipping down the tunnel at top speed. He didn’t slow until he reached the branch leading into Xisuma’s portal, his eyes studying the sword as he passed through the glimmering purple magic. He struggled to believe what he felt this implied but he couldn’t shake a sense of dread that was seeping into his bones and latching down.

“Oh, hello Doc. What brings you all the way out here?” Xisuma asked as Doc stepped out of the portal into Xisuma’s geometric sea base.

“Look. This was in the river behind the demise signup and Python said that Wels is missing.” Doc explained, tense.

“Oh dear…” Xisuma’s voice held a level of dread that was unusual for him.

“Can you check on him? See if he’s alright?” Doc asked and felt his heart sink as the leader shook his head.

“That awful book, I think its song is blocking my powers. I can’t tap into them since signing it. Otherwise I would have done something about it by now.” Xisuma explained.

“That’s bad, what are we going to do?” Doc felt more uncertain now, worried but almost sure Wels must be dead. His name hadn’t been in the book though, so he couldn’t have been under its effects. What that meant for the rest of them he wasn’t sure.

“We play Demise.” Xisuma said grimly and Doc felt that chill seeping into his bones again.

---

There was a bounce to Cleo’s step as she left Falsewell behind her and headed for Hermit Land. Grian had told her of a new game and she was down for winning some diamonds. The game had a theme that sounded right in line with her entire existence, the name alone, Demise, it sounded like something a Zombie like her could excel at.

As she passed DSD by she noticed a familiar set of brown feathered wings and she couldn’t quite dismiss the smile that cracked her face. She crept up quietly as the other hermit signed the book and as soon as the quill was set down she tackled him in a hug.

“Cleo! Are you going to sign up as well? This game sounds enticing doesn’t it?” Joe asked, a smile in his voice that was clear and familiar enough she didn’t need to look to his face to see it.

“Yep, hope you’re ready for me to beat you.” She teased, letting go of him to go skim the rules before jotting down her name. Her blood wasn’t the easiest to write with considering how cold and still it was but it sank into the pages all the same. It was a weird but fitting detail so she didn’t give it much more thought.

“Oh I’m not going to go down easily, I can assure you of that. Like the strongest of towers or mightiest of forts my will to live is no small thing, my skills will be unmatched.” Joe bosted and Cleo laughed, looking over to him as he tossed his diamonds into the chest and she felt her eyes go wide. That was quite the prize already.

“You say that now but I’m not going to roll over and let you just win.” She said as she followed suit, adding her share.

“Wait… Cleo you’re cheating.” Joe remarked, causing her to frown up at him in confusion.

“Joe… I may be a pirate but-” She started to counter but he cut her off.

“You’re already dead. Can a zombie be on the alive team as it were? Does undead count like that because the rules state there will be a dead team.” He explained.

“Is… is it that specific? Huh. Well I suppose there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to cure myself.” She shrugged.

“Are you seriously going to do that? I thought you love the cold embrace of immortal unlife?”

“I do. But… that’s a lot of diamonds. I think I can win so it’s worth it. Besides, I can always contract zombism again.” She pointed out with a smirk and Joe stepped closer to pull her into a hug.

“Just be careful, I don’t want to see you get hurt, you won’t be as resilient as a human.” He pointed out quietly, honestly concerned for her.

“I’ll be fine, Joe.” She assured him as she returned the hug a little tighter and stepping back when he let her go to meet his gaze. He looked from her to the book and back again.

“Good luck.”

---

Curing herself was no small task and she felt herself become a bit nervous as she opened the chest she’d tucked away in the corner of her cabin. She removed the false bottom and took the two items from it she hadn’t thought she would ever need to use. With a deep breath she uncorked the potion and downed it, trying not to flinch too hard at the pain and horrible taste. The empty bottle fell to the floor and she coughed, shaking her head a little before bringing the golden apple up. She already felt weak from the potion but she managed to eat the powerful little fruit. She felt light headed, the world spinning, her consciousness already wavering in and out as something started to rumble in her chest, the sound rattling unbearably through her ears.

Stumbling she assured herself she was fine, she stepped out onto the deck, wanting to feel the warmth of the sun again for the first time in ages, as she should be able to right? But then suddenly it was cold, and she was drifting and everything was dark.

--

“Come on Mumbo, you’ve got to join in!” Grian said cheerfully from his perch on top of Mumbo’s storage system. Mumbo didn’t mind much, as long as Grian wasn’t chucking potatoes or chickens into things he wouldn’t break anything… hopefully.

“I fully intend to, I just haven’t been over there lately.” Mumbo noted as he dug through one of the chests beneath where his prank loving boyfriend was sitting.

“There’s a deadline Mumbo, you’re going to miss it.” Grian pointed out, causing Mumbo to glance up at him.

“You’re taking this quite seriously, aren’t you?”

“I just want everyone to play!” Grian said, throwing his hands in the air. There was something about Grian felt ever so slightly off to the redstoner as he studied him silently for a moment. He was normally high energy and giggly when he was up to something and this was no different but there was just an edge of something Mumbo couldn’t quite place in the air around Grian. Something just wasn’t… right .

Unsure how to feel about that Mumbo let the chest fall closed as he spread his wings, snapping the scale coated appendages down hard to push himself off the ground and another took him just high enough to land on top of the storage system beside Grian, who was looking at him questioningly. Mumbo studied those eyes quietly, searching for some clue as to what seemed so… so strange.

In a very spontaneous and thus much more Grian like fashion the builder leaned in close suddenly, closing the distance between them without warning and kissing Mumbo, not that he minded one bit. That move almost assured him that Grian was fine and whatever seemed so off must be his imagination but then, then something else was wrong. As Mumbo returned the kiss it occurred to him that just some little detail felt lost… that was it, something was missing from the builder. It was like a flying machine missing it’s slime blocks or a hidden door missing pistons, some vital part that should be obvious was just… gone. The question was… what was it?

“Grian… are you alright?” Mumbo asked quietly once their lips had parted.

“Of course I am.” Grian smiled but as close as Mumbo was, as well as he knew Grian he saw right through this little ploy, the smile didn’t sit quite right, it didn’t reach Grian’s eyes. It was like he was wearing a paper mask, like the happiness he presented wasn’t genuine, that there was just a cold emptiness within the builder’s soul.

“I… I don’t believe you.” Mumbo muttered after a moment, leaning back as much as he could on the precarious space.

“What? Why?” Grian asked, seeming astonished but there was again that strangeness, what his eyes betrayed was more of an urgency.

“Ever since you started this game you’ve been acting a little strange, let’s be honest now. I think maybe you should step back from it for a bit. It’s getting into your head I think.” Mumbo said, concerned.

“No way, don’t be ridiculous Mumbo!” Grian laughed and Mumbo noticed that void again, same as with the kiss Grian was missing… his passion perhaps? Mumbo waited for the laughter to subside, for Grian to focus on him fully again before he spoke.

“I love you.” It was a simple phrase but Mumbo meant it, he’d heard it in reply from Grian a thousand times over but this time was different.

“You too.” Grian said, closing his eyes and smiling. There weren’t words to describe the chill that sent up the redstoner’s spine. That broken smile, eyes now unreadable and disingenuine reply it… it was all wrong. Mumbo felt his blood go cold, it was like he was looking at an imposter, it was his lover and yet… it wasn’t.

“On second thought, I don’t think I’ll be signing up. I have other things I need to do and I just don’t have time for a… game… right now…” Mumbo said but words caught in his throat as the chill he’d felt run down his spine redoubled. The happy, chipper act, the friendly mask just melted off of grian like snow under the scrutiny of a torch. Anything kind or caring, fun or lighthearted just slid away, leaving behind a strange threatening emptiness.

“What did you say?” His tone had a razor edge and Mumbo felt his wings tensing for a quick escape. It felt more like staring into the face of a charged creeper than meeting Grian’s gaze.

“You’re not yourself… I really just don’t feel comfortable playing whatever game has you so… so not-” Mumbo didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as Grian moved forward to grab him, taking his suit jacket by the lapels but their balance on the storage system was tentative at best. Startled Mumbo attempted escape, his wings flapping awkwardly and it only made things worse, they were falling…

Mumbo didn’t remember hitting the ground, everything just went black. The only memory that clung to him was the madness driven intensity in Grian’s otherwise empty eyes.

Chapter Text

Midnight of the deadline day and Xisuma could feel a shift in the very air, watching the new moon above in the red tinted sky he felt something so unbearably wrong in the very aura of the world around him. It bit into his bones and made his blood run cold. There was death on the horizon if there wasn’t already blood spilled as it was. He still hadn’t been able to find Wels, alive or otherwise and just hours ago Iskall had reported Mumbo missing as well.

He was frustrated with how powerless this deadly event had left him, leaving him unable to protect the hermits, the very people he’d sworn to lead and look after. What kind of plague had Grian brought upon them? Xisuma wasn’t sure just how at fault Grian was, considering that cursed book seemed to have a mind of its own. Dread settled firmly into place of what the future would bring, none of it could be good but Xisuma wasn’t going to live in fear, he didn’t want this event to take the joy out of what might turn out to be his last days. Besides, he had missing hermits to find the old fashioned way. Lost in thought Xisuma set about gathering supplies for the search, not sure how far he’d have to travel or how long it would take but he had no intention of giving up on the missing hermits. If they were still alive they very well could be in danger. If they weren’t alive… then well, they at the very least deserve proper burials.

Xisuma paused, shaking his head, he didn’t want to think about the worst outcome, not yet, not until there was no room for doubt. He took a deep breath and glanced at Wels’ sword, carefully tucked out of the way. Wels was not easy to best in a fight, he also wasn’t one to carelessly drop his belongings so for as much positivity as Xisuma clung to, he knew he also had to be prepared to face whatever it was that had overcome the Knight.

Before leaving the hermit leader left a lectern with a book, writing a quick note on the first page for anymore any news hermits came to report just be written down there. With no more preparations coming to mind Xisuma’s wings fluttered, raising him into the air and he was off to begin his search.

He checked places he felt would be obvious first, quickly but found nothing and his search spanned out from there, checking under every build and inside every mine with Hermits he was certain weren’t behind the disappearances on high alert.

Still, weeks went by and the Xisuma came up empty handed in his search, his hope draining with each day that went by that neither hermit was found. Xisuma hated that he suspected any of his hermits of foul play but there was no denying that Grian was likely somehow behind the disappearances and it made Xisuma sick at the thought of the two missing hermits buried in some unmarked graves somewhere. That book had to have influenced the builder, Xisuma was sure, there was no way otherwise Grian would ever turn on Mumbo. Surely…

Xisuma took a deep breath, mulling over as he returned to his base like he’d done once every few days since the beginning of his search. His wings were sore as they went still and Xisuma looked between the lectern and his bed with serious debate. Several weeks he’d been on the search with very little sleep and it was wearing on him. Still, he headed over to the lectern first, checking for any updates from the other hermits… what he found was troubling.

Raggedly scratched into the pages, sometimes taking up an entire page was the same phrase over and over again, a total of twenty one pages coated with the same message:

“You will never find them.”

Xisuma gritted his teeth as he flipped page after page of that, the worry gripping his heart more than he could bear but finally he found a cleanly written page.

“I’ve added a minigame to demise, it’s across from the Demise board, I hope to see you there at your earliest convenience, you’ve hereby been challenged.”

Xisuma let out a long breath and closed the book before hobbling off to bed.

---

Demise had been active for several weeks now yet to Doc’s knowledge no one had fallen yet, well, no one who signed up at least. He was worried about Wels and Mumbo but he suspected it may be too late for them and Doc felt the shadow of impending doom on his heels ever since signing that damnable book. He tried not to focus on it too much as he knelt to feed Hanz and Franz, the adorable attack foxes giving him some reprieve in what felt like increasingly dark times. Part of him still wanted to corner Grian and demand answers, but he got the very strong feeling the deranged hermit would either have none or bring Doc to a swift end.

The cyborg shook his head, trying to chase the thoughts away again as he petted Franz, keeping an eye on the two while they gobbled up their breakfast. With Scar having wandered off to work on other projects and Rendog focused on his racetrack Doc often found himself in Area 77 alone, which made him glad for the company of the foxes. While scratching Franz behind the ear with his cybernetic hand Doc noticed a burning in his other hand and glanced at it.

While the wound he’d sustained there was healed at this point it had left an obvious scar. He hadn’t had any trouble with it thus far but suddenly it was burning and he frowned at it, unsure exactly what was causing the pain. It grew intense quickly, consuming his awareness as an intense, burning but sharp pain then as suddenly as it had started… it stopped.

Doc found himself unsettled in the pain’s absence, he got the distinct feeling of something being very very wrong. Like something had just happened that was incredibly bad but he had no idea what it might be. Silently he rubbed his scarred palm, thinking back to how he’d gotten the scar, his fight with Rendog, grabbing the other hermit’s sword blade to make a point was probably not his smartest move…

Ren .

The fox guardians of Area 77 weren’t quite done licking their bowls clean when Doc started hurrying them into their kennels, barely making sure the gates were latched before he darted out of the hanger. Doc took to the air in a rush, fear swelling in his chest at the potential implications of the strange pain.

---

The instant Xisuma laid eyes on Grian at his new game the hermit leader decided he probably should have slept longer. The mischievous, or even now, the deceptive hermit sat upon the ender chest at the back of his little game. Walking past a tank of water and a tube of lava Xisuma was getting an idea what this was about.

“Welcome to Demise Dares.” Grian said with an almost spooky grin.

“Trying to get the ball rolling, are you?” Xisuma asked, already suspecting as much and more than a little aware that he might die here.

“You could say that. I’ve tested all of these though, they are survivable and if you do survive there’s fifty diamonds in it for you.” Grian said as if that was the most tantalizing prize. Was that really the worth of a hermit’s life? Xisuma supposed that had already somewhat been established considering that’s what each Hermit had wagered against their own lives to sign up for this madness.

With a sigh Xisuma reached up past Grian and flicked the lever on the dispenser, catching the piece of paper it spat out and only briefly taking his eyes from the envoy of Demise to read it.

“Void jump… That doesn’t sound too deadly.” Xisuma noted, looking back to the hermit who’s smile had twisted into something eerie.

“Let’s head to the end then.” Grian said, standing and for the trip there Xisuma didn’t turn his back to the builder, too unsettled to trust the hermit fully. He could see a definitive change in Grian since the game had started, he hardly seemed like the same person. It wasn’t until there was endstone under their feet that Xisuma spoke up, walking with Grian towards one side of the island.

“Do you know where Wels and Mumbo are?” Xisuma was careful with his tone, making sure it was level and free of accusation.

“So the goal of this is to jump into the void, like the dare says. You’ll fall until just before the pressure of the void can start to crush you. Then you can use your wings to fly out but not before.” Grian said, launching into the explanation as if that was what Xisuma had asked for. It sounded like such a natural response that Xisuma had to wonder if Grian had actually heard wrong, or lost his mind.

“And you’ve tested this?” Xisuma asked as they stepped onto a wooden dock overlooking the vast emptiness. He didn’t like the strange dismissal of his question but he figured there wasn’t much use, clearly Grian wasn’t… wasn’t present anymore. Xisuma wasn’t sure he quite qualified as a hermit anymore… he belonged to this game now. He was just unsure if Grian was a thrall, or a willing priest. Either way it seemed the result was the same.

“Of course, I survived without an issue.” Grian said, sounding like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Of course not, with your wings.” Xisuma pointed out, spreading out his own dragonfly appendages.

“Oh, true. Good luck.” Grian said, seeming vaguely surprised but then completely unconcerned. Xisuma contemplated Grian for a moment more, worried deeply by this twist in personality but accepting that if it was that book’s influence than there was nothing to be done right now. Finally Xisuma stepped to the edge of the platform, wings folding firmly against his back as he turned to face Grian again. He could walk away from this… he should and yet at the same time he found himself compelled to complete this dare.

It was a smooth movement as Xisuma stepped backwards off the platform, letting himself fall. Above he saw Grian come to the edge and look over to watch. Leaning into the fall Xisuma flipped slowly in the void, falling head first but leaning further soon he was parallel with the ground if there’d been any below. He kept this movement until he was falling feet first, at which point he was getting close to the limit, he could feel the pressure closing in on him like a noose. He lifted and spread his wings as the deadly zone loomed nearer and as he started to feel pain from the pressure his wings flitted into motion, slowing his decent but he was falling fast enough that it didn’t immediately reverse it. The pain quickly grew intense as Xisuma’s body took damage from the intense pressure, the crushing force making it nothing short of hell to focus on flying. He wasn’t exactly sure once he was free of it again, as the damage was done and he was hurt severely. Still he fought valiantly to climb out of the void, to claw his way free.

Xisuma rose well above the dock before he fully registered that he’d passed it by. It was difficult to breathe now, his entire body screeching in pain, there was a hitch in the movement of his wings, he could feel the strain. Slowly he descended back down, landing rougher on the dock than he would have liked for how badly he was hurt and he collapsed onto the wooden planks.

“You did it! Impressive.” Grian congratulated, coming over to kneel next to Xisuma. The hermit leader cast Grian a look, that upbeat tone didn’t sound as dissapointment free as it honestly should. Xisuma started to reply but the effort was a bit more than his body could put up with and he coughed instead, blood spilling over his lips. He was left to raggedly gasp for air for a moment and if not for the wet sound of it his helmet would have hidden the sign of weakness from the envoy. Had Xisuma hit the platform any harder he wouldn’t have survived, he was sure, had he spent a single second more in the void, he would have been a goner as well, that much was clear.

It took longer than Xisuma would like to admit to recover enough to stagger to his feet again, not accepting Grian’s offered hand. He didn’t trust the entranced hermit not to pitch him back into the void. Xisuma made his way back to more solid ground and set down an ender chest so he could retrieve a couple of healing potions before he could pass out. He dropped next to it with potions in hand, pulling his helmet free and setting it beside him, not bothering to look at the bloody mess he knew was inside. He downed the potions as quickly as he could without choking on them, anxious to repair the damage he’d suffered, though some of it would likely take days to heal properly.

Grian came over while he was doing that, getting into the enderchest and once Xisuma set the last empty bottle aside Grian held out the prize diamonds. Xisuma accepted, eyeing Grian silently.

“You fell a lot further than was necessary.” Grian noted, looking the wounds over with something that looked a little too close to fascination for Xisuma’s comfort.

“Wings.” Xisuma pointed out and coughed, luckily not spitting blood this time.

“I suppose that’s fair.” Grian noted, looking Xisuma’s wings over thoughtfully, actually considering the difference this time it seemed before speaking again. “So how about another dare? There’s three more you could do.”

“No. I’d rather see you shut this dare thing down.” Xisuma stated, giving Grian a pointed look.

“Oh, good actually I’m about out of diamonds anyway, Ren and Stress nearly cleared me out before they demised.” Grian said offhandedly.

“They what? ” Xisuma tensed, not wanting to believe what he’d just herd.

“Oh, yeah they did these dares before you did. Ren did one successfully and died on the second one, Stress got a few before she failed and splattered all over the ground. You’re smart to quit while you’re ahead.” Grian said with a grin, and it was clear that death was not a concept that meant anything to him anymore.

“So… they’re on the dead team then.” Xisuma muttered, trying to figure out what that would mean, as the book had made it sound like death either wasn’t actually necessary or somehow cheated. After that moment in the void he was fairly certain cheated would be the way to categorize it.

“Yep, that’s right. I think they are in the graveyard now. It was strange, watching their corpses evaporate into black ashes.” Grian noted and Xisuma frowned at him, that detached fascination evident in his tone. Black ashes though, that most certainly wasn’t normal and now Xisuma had to really wonder what kind of nightmare they were living.

“And you didn’t find that at all troubling?” Xisuma questioned but Grian just shook his head, of course he didn’t. With a heavy sigh the hermit leader pulled himself to his feet, his body responding considerably better, still in pain but functional. After gathering his ender chest and helmet Xisuma headed for the portal, keeping an eye on Grian over his shoulder as he went but the builder seemed to have entirely lost interest in Xisuma.

---

Speedy pines was eerily quiet as Doc flew over it’s track slowly, searching the trees either side as he went. This was his third pass of Ren’s most recent build and concern was no longer a strong enough word for what Doc felt. He’d been to Ren’s base and back again, the hermit hadn’t been there either, False nor Tango had seen hide nor hair of Ren. It wasn’t like him to just vanish and the feeling of dread had all but moved in to stay at this point, a constant weight on Doc’s shoulders that grew only heavier the longer Ren remained missing.

The sun began to set and Doc found himself watching it alone, sitting on the roof of part of the building adjacent to the track. He couldn’t shake the feeling he’d lost the one hermit he cared about most. It was a strange mix of grief and uncertainty and he was none too fond of it. More than anything he just wanted Rendog to walk in, right then perfectly fine and show Doc his worries were all unfounded.

There was only a chill breeze as the sun’s rays vanished under the horizon and mobs started to dot the forest. Doc breathed a heavy hearted sigh, unable to see any potential bright side to this, it was hard to be positive when it was so likely Rendog...

Doc’s hand started burning again, drawing his attention back to the scar on his hand. He ran the thumb of his other hand across it, frowning at the sensation. It grew steadily stronger but didn’t become overwhelming like it had before, not leveling off until he heard the rustle of wings beside him. The sight that greeted Doc when he looked up was not one he was prepared for.

There stood Rendog, but it was evident something had happened to him, that he had demised. His skin was a cold gray, his posture was rigid, his hair had gone black, as had the fur of his wings. Speaking of them those batlike appendages looked painfully dry and cracked, mummified, they creaked as Ren folded them back. The ragged black robes the undead hermit wore looked like they’d been affixed from a burial shroud. Doc starred in stunned silence for several long beats, stubborn denial not allowing Doc to accept that what he was seeing really was Rendog.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Rendog’s voice was wrong . It echoed with an ethereal edge, sounding entirely unnatural and otherworldly. He loomed over Doc like the very shadow of death, threatening even without a weapon in his hand.

“No…” Doc muttered, turning and pulling his legs back up on top of the building so he could stand, meeting Ren’s ghastly white gaze. “This… it’s not real, you can’t be-”

“Silence! I do not have time for your mortal concerns, there is work to be done.” Ren’s voice snarled, sounding near demonic. Doc flinched, not something he did often, he couldn’t remember the last time he had actually and Ren certainly seemed to notice as when he spoke again his voice had a softer, almost human tone. “Go home Doc. If you want to talk tomorrow come to the graveyard.”

Doc took a step back, still reeling as he took in the sight before him. He didn’t want to trust his eyes, his ears. He just wanted this to be a joke, even as mean of one as this would be that would be preferable to actually losing Rendog to the dead. Ren seemed to grow annoyed at Doc’s continued hesitance as his momentary calm fell away, his wings snapping open with a painful sounding crack.

“I said go!” That unnatural tone was back and Doc quickly found himself springing away on instinct, a trident having appeared in Ren’s hand it was clear Doc had overstayed his lack of welcome. He didn’t push his luck further, taking off to Area 77 as his mind tried to wrap around what just happened. The further he got from Ren the more the pain faded from his hand, it did seem to have something to do with the now… now undead hermit.

Doc’s chest tightened painfully at the thought, the slow acceptance allowing grief to settle in like a thick fog. He landed outside the hangar where Hanz and Franz’ kennels were, going in to let the two out as he very much did not want to be alone. Doc felt strangely numb as reality settled in on him like thousands of gravel blocks. His heart ached for Rendog, wanting nothing more than to hold the hermit close and tell him how much he meant to him… but he couldn’t. Stumbling to the back of the hanger Doc found a bed to fall into, pulling both foxes with him and holding them tight, they made worried noises at him, seeming to read his mood. He petted them but it didn’t do much to lighten his pain.

Rendog was dead. He had demised. Silently Doc berated himself for all the lost time, for not being able to bury that accursed book. His mind mulled over what he’d seen, how Rendog had acted, Doc’s heart twisting as he tried and failed to find any hope in the exchange. Rendog had said to meet him tomorrow in the graveyard… that seemed rather dangerous the more Doc considered it but he decided he would go. If there was anything of the Rendog he knew left, he’d find out, though he wasn’t sure how much it would matter now.

Chapter Text

“Xisuma if you don’t get some rest we will tie you down.” Iskall said, his tone actually sounding somewhat threatening. Scar was a bit surprised by that but then, they’d found Xisuma wandering the nertherhub in this condition and nothing short of dragging him to his base had worked. He wasn’t listening to reason.

“I have to find them.” The hermit leader muttered, sounding out of it, he was hurt as well which didn’t help matters and Scar felt more than a little anxiety rising at the state of Xisuma.

“Please, you have to rest or you’re going to die. You’re hurt, you won’t find anyone if you join the dead team, I mean maybe you will but are you sure you’ll even still be you?” Scar said, pushing lightly on Xisuma’s shoulder and much to the builder’s relief their leader conceded, laying down.

“I can’t… give up on them.” Xisuma muttered, exhausted and delirious.

“We’ll find them.” Iskall said firmly and looked to Scar. “I’m really worried about Mumbo, I was going to look for him anyway.”

“Should we split up? We could cover more ground that way.” Scar suggested.

“It may not be the safest idea.” Iskall pointed out.

“But we can’t have Cub catch us together.” Scar frowned, uncertain.

“Why? You’re helping look for a missing hermit, we are all in this together.” Iskall said with a resolute tone and Scar had to agree to that point, still he hadn’t told his business partner about his relations with one of the founders of their rival company and it worried him ever so slightly. He didn’t want to hurt his closest friend if Cub saw it as a betrayal.

“Have to… find them.” Xisuma muttered, bringing Scar back to the issue at hand.

“Someone needs to stay with Xisuma, he might try to take off on his own again before he’s healed.” Scar noted quietly.

“True, alright that first. You wait here and I’ll try to find one of the non-demise players to babysit.” Iskall sighed and headed for the nether portal. Scar watched him go with a small nervousness before just sitting down beside Xisuma, resting a hand on the hermit leader’s arm.

“Please just rest Xisuma.” Scar said soothingly, honestly very worried, Xisuma looked like he had a foot in the grave already. He wasn’t even sure what happened to their beloved leader, but it seemed from the injuries he’d been partially crushed. The way they were healing Scar could tell Xisuma had already drank as many potions as he could handle… but he’d likely pushed himself again after. It was panic inducing to see their leader pushing himself to his limits like this, it brought a whole new gravity to the situation they were in. He’d thought demise was just going to be another fun game… but things had taken an even more serious turn than the Area 77 shenanigans, what with Wels and Mumbo going missing.

“You’re going to search for them?” Xisuma asked a short while later, drawing Scar from his thoughts.

“Yeah, you need to take a break and recover.” Scar said insistently. Xisuma nodded a little and pointed to one of his shulkers.

“Maps of everywhere I’ve already looked.”

“That will help.” Scar nodded, watching as Xisuma laid back again and went still. For just a moment he almost feared the persistent hermit had perished right then and there but he’d only fallen asleep. Scar let a breath go he hadn’t realized he was holding and waited quietly for Iskall to return, trying not to worry and luckily he didn’t have long to wait.

“Yeah, I don’t mind, I’ve been out searching too so I should probably rest a bit before we trade off again.” Zedaph said after he and Iskall appeared through the portal.

“Good, with any luck we’ll be back with those two before you get restless.” Iskall said with optimism that felt like it should be in short supply in this situation. Scar stood, scooping up the shulker on his way over to Iskall and together they took the time to pour through the maps and find a place to start. That decided they bid Zedaph farewell and set out through the open roof of Xisuma’s base.

--

Doc took a deep, steadying breath as he looked out across the swamp before him, across the half trampled pumpkins and soggy ground. Ahead was the church that Joe had built nearly a year ago now, somehow it looked even creepier now, coated in moss and more spider webs than had intentionally been put there. Quietly, cautiously, Doc picked his way across the dilapidated path, minding his steps as he was aware traps could be anywhere. Honestly, Rendog requesting him out here could be a trap in and of itself but part of him still wanted to believe that his Ren was still in there somewhere. He quickly found himself glad he hadn’t come alone, as he neared the church he felt like he was being watched from everywhere at once. As soon as he reached more solid and more easily trapped ground he set his prize foxes down. During their training Scar had questioned the point of training one to sniff out redstone and the other to find gunpowder. Now though, Doc was glad for the decision, his only concern would be more rudimentary traps. Carefully, he picked his way around the side of the building, stepping through the threshold of the graveyard and the instant he did he felt a chill run up his spine. His eyes swept across the area, some of the graves looked recently disturbed and he had the unnerving feeling that something could burst free to grab him at any moment. It didn’t help when Franz suddenly let out an alarm bark, signifying the presence of redstone and causing Doc’s heart to nearly leap out of his chest. Looking to the fox he saw Franz following protocol, frozen in place and gaze affixed in the direction of the redstone, effectively pointing it out. Following his furry companion’s attention he saw a redstone torch. It wasn’t set in a place it could be linked to anything though, likely there for eerie lighting. Doc let out a breath before the command of dismissal so they could carry on.

Not a few steps more did Doc’s hand start to faintly burn and he cast a glance at his scar, Rendog was close. Following the intensity of the pain allowed Doc to quickly pinpoint Ren’s crypt. He had to tell Franz to dismiss a couple more redstone torches on the way while Hanz hadn’t picked up any scent of TNT, much to Doc’s relief. To the left of Ren’s crypt Doc took note of rows of undug graves, each spouting a sign with a hermit’s name, he only glanced at a couple and from the number of them he assumed that it was everyone wrapped into this twisted game. He stepped into the small stone structure, noticing the coffins empty but ready and the ladder down, his scar burning stronger still, so Ren must be below. Glancing back, he gave the command for the foxes to wait on high alert, they didn’t seem keen on following him into the musty smelling place anyway.

That done, he descended the ladder.

---

Mumbo drew in a sharp breath, it made his head spin and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. He felt sick, he wasn’t sure if it was from the spinning, the pain or if he was desperately hungry. Slowly he blinked his eyes open but he was somewhere dark, it was cool but not cold and he could hear water. He remained still for a moment more, listening a bit harder but all the sound was distant water and that was all. He sat up but had to take it easy, his head spinning if he moved too fast, his hands held firmly to the stone slabs he’d been laying on as he got his feet settled on the floor. With the way it squished under his shoes it was most likely carpet, which would explain the distinct lack of mobs in such darkness.

Trying to stay calm he searched his pockets but he had nothing, none of his belongings, no torches, nothing. It was disturbing and Mumbo wasn’t sure how he got to this place, his last memories were hazy, but he did distinctly remember that crazed look in Grian’s eyes and that alone sent a shiver down the redstoner’s spine, even without context. Carefully Mumbo pushed away from the slab table and with his hands out before him he searched for anything , any clue as to where he was.

Very quickly his hands brushed against smooth walls and he sighed softly, following the wall along around, counting the corners of the box containing him until  there was an open space, a one by two hall and cautiously he walked it, keeping a hand on the wall, a hand in front of him and shuffling his feet. The hall wasn’t long, it had one turn and a single stair before he reached an iron door. Nearing desperation he searched the walls, ceiling and floor for a button or switch but he found nothing so he turned back to the door and called out.

“Is anyone out there? Hello!?” His voice held an edge of fear as it echoed right back at him, suggesting the space beyond the door was closed off.

---

The scene awaiting Doc as he turned away from the ladder wasn’t too different than he might have assumed. The lower level of the crypt was eerie, there were mob heads mounted on the walls and on pikes, spider webs and the like but what he hadn’t quite expected was the map spread across the far wall, it showed the market district. Studying that map was none other than Rendog himself and it took Doc longer than he’d like to admit to build the nerve to actually get the undead hermit’s attention.

“Hey Rendog… you busy?” Doc tried to keep his tone light, attempting to bury how unnerved he felt. Ren turned unnaturally slow, affixing Doc with a sinister expression before silently creeping forward a few steps.

“Always, there is no rest for the wicked.” Ren’s ethereal voice reverberated off the stone walls in the most chilling way possible and Doc had to actually tense his muscles to keep from shivering.

“A better question would be if you have a moment to talk then.” Doc amended, watching Ren’s face carefully but it was so deathly expressionless that it just drove home the grief that had kept Doc awake all night.

“I can spare a moment now, what do you want Doc?” Some of the threatening edge faded as the Grimdog tilted his head a little. That did nothing to ease Doc’s nerves though.

“I wanted to know what happened Man. I got the worst vibes and then you turned up demised.” Doc pointed out, working hard to sound as casual as possible.

“I… don’t really want to talk about that.” Ren mumbled shuffling back a bit and looking away. “Do you have anything else to talk about? It’s rather bold of you to risk coming all the way here to the land of the dead.”

“Well, I was thinking about it on the way here and, I’ve got an idea. How about you help me win this thing and we split the diamonds-”

“SILENCE!” Ren roared, ethereal voice near demonic again as it rattled off the walls, cutting Doc off and leaving him dead quiet, too focused on not jumping or reacting too strongly. “I care nothing about you’re mortal trippings. All that matters to me now is souls. Bring me souls and I will consider helping you.”

“Souls? What do you mean souls?” Doc questioned, relieved his voice didn’t squeak with as intimidated as he felt.

“Hermit souls. I want to revel in death and destruction. There are a few targets I cannot actively chase however, but you Doc. You can. Zedaph, Python and if you can find them, Wels and Mumbo. Their names are not in the book, I want you to hunt them down and remove them by any means necessary. Bring me any of their heads and we can bargain.” Rendog explained as if it was a perfectly normal request.

“Wait… wait you want me to kill them? You want me to murder Hermits who aren’t even involved in this?” Doc questioned and annoyance seemed to fill the otherwise motionless features of the hermit before him.

“Yes, precisely.”

“But, They’ll die, won’t they? For good? If they aren’t part of this they won’t come back like you have, twisted as you are.” Doc pointed out and had to actively force himself not to flinch under the glare Ren leveled on him.

“That’s the point you fool.”

“I… I can’t do that. I won’t. I can’t believe you’d even ask me to!” Doc snapped, gaining courage from his own outrage. He glared at the thing in front of him that was clearly no longer his Rendog, this… this was something entirely messed up and he wasn’t having any of it. It made the loss of the hermit he loved sting all the more, the realization that this sick shadow would dare ask something so hainus of him.

Ren’s posture changed in an instant, suddenly far more imposing, looming. Above Hanz and Franz started letting out a cacophony of warning barks, the sort to warn other foxes of approaching danger. They’d barely let out a few barks though, Doc barely having time to register before Ren was practically flying forward. Doc wasn’t prepared for the sudden attack as he would have thought he was, he was knocked from his feet, pinned back against the wall. Ren’s grip was like a cold vice, his trident stopping just shy of digging into Doc’s throat.

“Then your life is forfeit. Any last words?” Ren snarled, but there was something else, just an edge of struggle. Ren’s hand shook ever so slightly, as if fighting himself about the positioning of the trident and Doc recognized it then, the tiniest, faintest sliver of the real Rendog, still there, fighting for an excuse not to kill Doc. It was minute but it was there and Doc latched onto that faint hope, not hesitating to give his Ren something to hold onto, even as the sharp edges of the trident drew little trails of blood to trickle down Doc’s neck.

“Ich liebe dich.” Doc’s voice was smooth and genuine as he spoke, not an ounce of hesitation but deep emotion laced the three simple words, giving them weight and merritt. Doc held Ren’s eyes as he spoke, making it clear he wasn’t lying or just trying to escape. In that moment he saw that faint flicker of the real Ren grow just a little stronger, the features of the undead hermit softening ever so slightly.

“Doc…” The trident slipped from Ren’s fingers to clatter on the floor almost faster than the ghostly edge dropped out of Ren’s voice. That same voice was heavy as he spoke that name, sounding almost human but still slightly distant. Above them the foxes calmed down, going quiet.

“I’m right here.” Doc said firmly, not letting the emotion slip from his voice as he gently brought his hands up to hold Ren’s arms, his eyes holding that ghostly white gaze, trying desperately to bring that flicker of humanity back to the surface.

“You aren’t safe here…” Ren almost sounded dazed as he spoke but steadily he focused more on Doc, his body relaxing out of some of that dead rigidity. His eyes getting the faintest shadow of what they once were returned.

“I don’t give a damn. I’m here for you , Ren. Come back to me, you aren’t the cold monster this ‘game’ is trying to twist you into.” Doc’s tone remained unwavering, as did his gaze, watching as Ren seemed more himself, despite still being very much dead.

“I… it’s too strong Doc… I can’t fight it completely.” Ren said shakily and it was clear enough it was true, Doc could see the literal war within the undead hermit as he fought to be himself.

Huffing at that Doc leaned forward, pressing his lips to those icy cold ones of Ren, not allowing this nightmare to steal one last kiss from them. Ren relaxed further, almost melting in Doc’s grasp as he returned the kiss. Even as unsettling as it was with the cold rigidness of Ren, Doc didn’t regret the choice, they both needed this. As they finally parted again Doc could see Ren’s eyes, while colorless they weren’t entirely white, they were as normal as they were going to be he figured. Still, it was enough, he felt like he’d given Ren at least a temporary reprieve from the forces trying to claim his mind.

“You really do need to get out of here. I can’t protect you without anything substantial to justify it.” Ren explained, his voice normal, heavy with the inner frustration of his limitations. “I can promise though, that I won’t come after you directly. I will try to warn you about the traps I set. Be careful Doc… but get out of here before I’m forced to change my mind.”

“Alright… but you know my stance, don’t forget it. Hold on as tight as you can and I’ll do anything I can in the meantime, if I have to win this or if I can fix it… I’ll find a way.” Doc swore as he let go of Ren who backed off to let Doc up.

“ Just go. ” Ren urged, looking like he was struggling again. With a nod Doc climbed the ladder quickly, finding two shaky foxes at the top. He couldn’t blame them for being afraid, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been scared. However he’d had faith in his love for Rendog, even if it had been his last real chance.

Scooping the two canidae into his arms, Doc took a few long strides out of the crypt so he could lift into the air, flying over the roof of the church. He couldn’t help the sadness that crept in as the pain faded from his hand, knowing he was leaving Rendog behind.

----

“So why are we checking here? I did before.” Iskall asked as they swooped in towards Mumbo’s base.

“It’s what you checked that caught my attention, you only looked in places Mumbo would normally be right?” Scar questioned, having to give his wings more than the occasional flutter to keep up with Iskall’s smooth glide.

“Yeah, why would I look somewhere else?” The restoner asked, confused.

“If you want to hide, or hide someone, you do so where someone isn’t going to think to look.” Scar pointed out.

“Oh…. I see well I suppose that does make sense.” Iskall admitted, seeming surprised and casting Scar a look of ‘well done’ that made Scar’s heart do a little flip in his chest. Quickly they reached the water above the entrance to Mumbo’s old underwater base and Scar quietly crossed his fingers that there was still an active conduit, he really didn’t want to deal with wet wings. Much to his relief when they splashed down it the water it was comfortable, he could breathe and see, his wings able to pass through the water without being heavily affected by it. He did have to swim normally though, unlike Iskall who’s draconic wings propelled him through water as easily as air, just with slightly different movements.

Together they swam through the mouth of the underwater cave Mumbo had built ages ago. It was evident how long it had been since anyone had been down there from the height of the seagrass and kelp. Iskall plowed through it, breaking some as his wings shoved the plants out of the way to get deeper into the cave, which made it a little easier for Scar to follow. Soon they were in the main chamber and it looked about as abandoned as they might have expected, there was even moss clinging to most surfaces now.

Most but not all, Scar spotted two suspiciously clean blocks on the wall, the moss smeared to either side like something had brushed against them. He got Iskall’s attention, pointing the blocks out and they swam over to swing pickaxes in on stone. Those broken away there was a layer of obsidian behind, sharing a glance first they set to breaking those next, between teamwork and Mumbo’s nearby beacon the blocks didn’t last long. Beyond they could see a short tunnel with a door at the end, an iron door. Cautiously Iskall went first, motioning for Scar to hang back. He was worried but did so, holding the edge of the entrance and watching as Iskall stepped free of the water and peered through the window of the door. The redstoner checked for buttons but finding none he tore down the door instead, again, the beacon meaning it didn’t last long. On the other side obsidian made way for smooth stone blocks and Iskall placed down a torch. He walked a few steps more, then a few more, placed down another torch and Scar could see Iskall peering around a corner before he motioned for Scar to join him.

Scar didn’t need to be told twice, on edge as it was as this was strangely unnerving, Scar hurried to join his boyfriend in the close quarters of the dark hallway. It was quickly becoming less dark though, as Iskall continued putting down torches as they went and soon a room opened up before them. It was small and there was a single slab table in the dead center but it was empty.

“Ach, who's there?” came a rough, weak but familiar voice and Iskall stepped into the room and turned. Scar followed his gaze and sure enough there was Mumbo, slouched against the floor and squinting against the light.

“Oh thank the Vex, you’re alive!” Scar breathed, deeply relieved they’d finally found one of the missing hermits.

“You okay Mumbo? Are you hurt?” Iskall asked, clearly just as worried for his friend as he knelt beside him.

“I think so… I’m absolutely starving though.” The dapper redstoner admitted and Scar scrambled to get his shulker box of food out and grabbing whatever was closest at hand to give the famished architect. Mumbo accepted the food graciously with shaking hands.

“How did you end up here like this?” Iskall asked once Mumbo had a moment to stuff himself.

“I… I think it was Grian. Don’t trust anything he says or does, he’s not himself.” Mumbo said quietly, sounding deeply hurt, betrayed and worried.

“Noted, I’ll watch my back around him but for now we should get you out of here. Can you stand, more importantly can you swim?” Iskall asked, looking Mumbo over but from what Scar could see their friend didn’t appear to be hurt.

“I think so.” Mumbo agreed and let Iskall and Scar help pull him to his feet. Scar gathered his boxes and led the way back out into the water. It wasn’t long before the three of them were in the air, though they flew somewhat slowly, Mumbo having not recovered yet.

“We’re going to Xisuma’s base. He’s hurt and we need eyes on him to keep him from going in search of Wels, he should relax a little with you found though.” Iskall explained as they went.

“Wels is still missing?” Mumbo asked with concern and the look that crossed Iskall’s face was quite telling.

“I… I’m pretty sure he’s dead dude.” Iskall’s voice was heavy and Mumbo looked away, shaking his head a little. Scar’s heart sank as well, he had a lot of respect for Wels, he was a good friend. But Iskall had reason to doubt, he’d been missing longer and if he’d been locked up without food like Mumbo had he’d have starved to death by now. That was assuming he hadn’t been worse off somehow.

“This is only going to get worse…” Mumbo predicted, tone heavy. “We need to stop this thing, it’s not a game, it’s a trap and Grian needs to be… needs to be stopped before anyone else gets hurt.”

Chapter Text

“This is proper evil isn’t it?” Stress asked softly as she stared up at the map on the wall of Ren’s crypt from her spot sitting on the ground.

“Having second thoughts?” the first demised asked her, voice only mildly ghostly but she shook her head.

“Of course not, I just… I’ve never done this sort of thing, it’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” She looked to him as her question hung in the air and from the look of him he had to think about that a moment.

“We’re dead, Stress. This is the way of things now.” He said finally with a shrug. She sighed, wrapping herself in her oversized owl wings, holding the white feathered appendages tight to herself but they did nothing to chase away the chill she felt now. Even as fluffy and regal as they appeared, as well as they had worked as a cloak while she was alive, she couldn’t escape the chill that emanated from her now.

“I guess that’s true, so what should we do? I… I feel like I should be doing something.” She explained, studying the map again.

“Well… how about we set some traps then?” He asked and she couldn’t ignore the thrilled chill that went up her spine at the thought. Without an ounce of hesitation she nodded, pulling herself to her feet, her disheveled feathers brushing at the frost that had formed on the floor where she’d been sitting.

It took longer than she would have thought to gather up everything they needed for a trap but once at the market district she found herself anxious to set one up, it was like a craving that nothing else would satisfy. With a bit of deliberation they decided the nether portal in front of iTrade was a prime target since it was used so often. Stress found herself absolutely giddy with the plan once it was in place. It was simple, passive, but it would be very effective she was sure.

As soon as the trap was hidden though, Stress felt the need to set another, itching to leave more potential death in her wake. She started glancing around, considering other locations that might work.

“Hey Stress, Ren… are you two shopping for stuff to spruce up the graveyard with?” Grian’s voice snapped Stress from her thoughts and she spun, wings pulling back, ready to propel her forward in a blink. She instantly felt agitated, aggressive at the sound of his voice but she held herself still, not lashing out at the hermit responsible for her demise.

“That is none of your business, you filthy warmblood.” Rendog growled, his voice sounding unnaturally deep and echoing despite being in the open air. Stress cast a quick glance at Ren and sure enough he was just as tense.

“Well, you don’t have to be so harsh about it.” Grian said, scoffing as if insulted but there was no emotion in his eyes, she could tell he was more going through the motions than actually reacting.

“I have absolutely no reason to be civil with the likes of you . I would say I will take your soul but that’s already gone so I’ll just have to settle for stealing your bones instead.” Rendog said in a disgusted tone, practically spitting the words.

“Okay…” Grian said, backing away a step. “I think I'll just… leave you to whatever you were doing.”

Ren huffed, turning for the portal behind them but Stress was frozen in place, eyes locked on Grian. She watched him back away a few more steps before he turned his back on her. She felt one wing twitch, then the opposite hand. She felt every bit like an owl watching a mouse scarper away and with the thought of losing her prey she could hold herself back no longer. There was thunderous flap from her wings and she let out an ear-splitting screech as she flung herself forward, barely a block off the ground. Grian broke into a run but he wasn’t fast enough, she reached her hands out and--

The world went dark for just a moment, her neck suddenly in pain along with her face as she’d collided into something with a clatter. Whatever it was had some give but then pushed back, sending her to the ground on her bum. She shook her head and blinked trying to shake the shock and the scene before her was almost as unexpected as the collision. Standing between her and her chosen prey was none other than Tango, he had a shield on his primary arm, his wings rose and half folded, framing his figure.

Stepping into her line of sight to Tango’s left was Cub, an interesting duo to be sure but together they blocked her path to Grian. Cub had a crossbow in his hands, which he leveled right at her.

“This one looks dangerous Tango.” Cub’s voice was cold, as was his expression, he was looking at her like… like she wasn’t a hermit anymore.

“ This one ? Excuse me but I have a name you know.” She snapped at him, getting back to her feet and that crossbow stayed trained on her unwaveringly.

“You aren’t the Stressmonser we knew, you’re just Monster now, I guess.” Cub said with a shrug.

“Don’t talk to it Cub, it might get ideas or something.” Tango said, giving Cub a sideways glance. Monster, It? . That stung more than she expected and she felt her lips pulling back in a snarl, her wings shuffling back again, dragging through the frosted grass. She could feel the rhythm of Demise, that voiceless whisper egging her on as the tension tightened between her and the living hermits. She drew her sword, unable to think of anything but slashing these insufferable fools to bits. She flung herself forward again, arm winding for a swing, Tango rose his shield and her sword gouged into the wood. She attempted to twist the blade to pull him closer but she was shot in the side by Cub, bold of him to fire so close to Tango, but he was a good shot. She snarled, pained, trying to twist her blade free for another strike Tango took the opportunity of her entanglement to stab her in the abdomen, twisting the blade before pushing her back. She screeched and slashed with her free hand, cutting several long scratches in his forehead, it was satisfying to draw blood at last.

Hurt but not down, she was still standing as Tango withdrew, her sword coming free as his did. She ignored the blood and pain, following his retreat with another swing. Again she clipped his shield but that was followed by something else and this time she was nearly knocked to the ground. A trident buried into her chest, staggering her back a step. She’d forgotten about Grian. She would have had the wind knocked out of her if she still needed to breathe but this was mostly just shock as her body grew weak despite her silent protests at it. She’d taken too much damage too quickly she realized, the trident ripping free to return to it’s master only adding to that damage. She felt her unnatural cold intermingle with a burning sensation, Stress felt her body beginning to break apart as she slipped into blessed darkness.

---

“I am feeling considerably better, I don’t think I’m going to drop dead.” Xisuma said, sitting on his bed and cleaning the inside of his helmet.

“Maybe not now but you gave us quite the scare, Xisuma.” Mumbo pointed out, leaning against a shulker nearby. He was glad their leader had survived but he still worried with him being part of demise. Mumbo watched Xisuma as he spoke again, it was unusual to see the other hermit’s face, it almost didn’t look right without the soft glow of the lights in his helmet, seeing all of it made him seem so much more… more mortal.

“How about you? Are you doing alright after your imprisonment?”

“Quite, I think I’m probably the lucky one in all this.” Mumbo admitted.

“Maybe somewhere in that demise addled brain of Grian’s he still cares.” Xisuma offered, glancing over at Mumbo.

“I’m not so sure.” Mumbo said, not bothering to keep the weight of his heart out of his tone. It hurt to doubt Grian but he did, with what he’d seen he was fairly certain the builder he knew and loved so much was gone.

“Don’t give up, Mumbo.” Xisuma said softly, turning his attention back to scrubbing blood out of the inside of his mask. Mumbo didn’t say another word though, not really having the will to argue on the matter. He had already given up on Grian while sitting in the darkness, starving and betrayed.

Finally Xisuma seemed content with the cleanliness of his helmet and he set the rag aside to settle the helmet back in place. Now aside from the damage to it and the rest of Xisuma’s attire the hermit leader looked normal again. He stood, looking towards Mumbo.

“I don’t suppose you know if Wels was found?” There was a tense, tentative little hope in the leader’s voice and Mumbo hated to be the one to sever it.

“Xisuma… He was missing longer than me, we’ve searched so much I don’t think we’ll be finding him.”

“We can’t give up on-”

“If his body was dropped into lava there would be nothing left to find.” Mumbo pointed out sharply and his heart twisted painfully at the way the other hermit flinched at the thought. Mumbo let the silence drag on a moment more before he continued. “Wels wouldn’t want us to waste our energy and time on a pointless search when there are other lives on the line. You know that.”

Xisuma let out a long sigh and it looked like he aged ten years in that moment, the way his shoulders slumped and he sank back down to sit on the bed again. “I… I know.”

“We need to figure out if there is a way to put a stop to this.” Mumbo pointed out, hoping to pull Xisuma on task. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t grieving for Wels, but there was no time for grieving now, not with the dead rising to drag them all into graves.

“You’re right… Well, where better to look than the source? I’ve already been influenced, it will probably be safe for me to read it.” Xisuma theorized.

“I don’t like it but you’re probably right there.” Mumbo admitted, pushing himself up to his feet as well.

“While I do that you go find Zedaph and Python, touch bases with them and see what they’ve found out so far. We can reconvene here at sundown.” Xisuma suggested and with a nod they both headed through the nether portal, parting ways on the other side. Mumbo glided down to the lower level of the hub once he reached it, heading for the portal leading to Python’s base. Stepping out of the tower housing Python’s nether portal Mumbo spotted the hermit he was looking for as Python was sat with his back to a wall, a stack of books to either side and one in his hands he was reading.

“Find anything?” Mumbo asked as he came over, drawing Python’s attention.

“Not really anything substantial. The villagers have a few myths and legends but nothing fits as far as I can tell. How’s Xisuma doing? Is he alright?”

“He’s back on his feet and has gone to see if he can learn anything about this mess from the Demise book itself.”

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” Python questioned, concern mounting.

“He’s already been close to it, he figures that’s the safest bet and I have to agree.” Mumbo admitted and with a sigh Python nodded.

“Well, I guess we better see if Zed has learned anything.” The wasp-winged hermit muttered, gathering the books he hadn’t read yet and piling them into a shulker for easier transport.

“Let’s go.” Mumbo nodded and the two were off.

----

The warmth of the sun, the smell of the sea, the faint sound of waves crashing against a wooden hull. These were the things that greeted Cleo as she rose from the pit of unconsciousness that had held her. For how long she didn’t know. Near her she heard the ruffling of a page and her eyes fluttered open, there was sunlight filtering in through her windows as she expected from the warmth on her skin. She was in her cabin, she recognized the red curtains hung around her bed. Glancing over a little further still she saw a lone figure seated beside her, reading a book.

“Joe?” She muttered, her voice sounding groggy. The book snapped closed and the figure turned to face her fully, it was indeed Joe.

“Cleo! Oh thank the stars above, you’ve been out so long I feared you’d be a victim of this nightmare too.”

“Nightmare? Victim? What’s going on?” She asked, confused as much as concerned.

“This game, Demise, it’s well… Murphy's law, anything that can go wrong will go wrong? Yeah, that. Everything has gone terribly and horribly wrong. The game twists those that die into undead far less pleasant than you were, it has driven Grian insane I think, he’s, well he’s certainly not himself. Mumbo and Wels have both gone missing and are probably dead. To top it all off last I heard Xisuma was very badly injured and fighting for his very life. Things are bad Cleo, very bad. So the longer it took for you to wake up the less hope I had for anything good to ever happen again.” Joe explained in his rambling, roundabout way that she so adored him for.

“I see, sounds like an average tuesday... well I woke up so you can stop worrying about that.” She noted, looking herself over. Her skin was the proper, living color again, and she was wearing clean, undamaged clothes. Sitting up she twisted her neck and back while lifting her wings so she could get a look at them and sure enough color had returned to them. At the top they were a deep blue but that faded to a rich purple, then shifted to a sort of pink and then a vibrant orange across the bottom, causing her wings to look like a sunrise through panels of glass.

“They’re beautiful.” Joe noted and she had to agree.

“They were just orange the last time I was alive.” She noted quietly, fascinated.

“Perhaps the blue is for surviving Zombisim?” Joe suggested.

“Could be, I never would have guessed it would have that kind of affect.” Cleo admitted, looking back to Joe but he was fidgeting with something to his side she couldn’t see until he turned. He presented it to her, a new flower crown, the flowers were yellow and blue. A warm smile spread across Cleo’s face and she bowed her head a little so he could settle it in place. She felt his fingers gently brush her hair behind her ears and trace her face as she lifted it up, meeting his gaze.

“There are not words to express how glad I am you are okay.” Joe said softly, the depth in his voice speaking to just how worried he had been. Gently she reached up to wrap her hand around his, leaning into his touch as she realized how much more vividly it registered.

“I’m not going to get killed in the process of bringing myself back from the dead. You can’t lose me that easily.” Cleo assured him, it was odd, feeling her heart beat again but almost stranger still to feel it flutter with emotion. She found herself really savoring the moment, the rush of sensations that had been stunted and dulled by being dead.

“Like I said, Murphy's law.” Joe sighed, resting his head against Cleo’s and she, the ever opportunistic pirate queen she was, took that chance. She closed the remaining distance simply tilting her head upwards, pressing her lips to his without any warning. While he seemed surprised at first he didn’t pull away out of her reach and as soon as his mind had a chance to catch up he returned the kiss. This was a line they’d dared not cross before, what with her being a zombie an all, it was just a bit too strange for Joe to handle, as much as he deeply cared about her. She knew it, she’d respected that up until now but since she was no longer a member of the undead, since she had a pulse...

----

Xisuma was on edge as he walked the path towards the demise board, even from here he could see the masks hung on the black wall, the skeletal hand now turned the other way, it’s palm filled with a pile of diamond blocks. What was almost more unsettling was the silence, he’d expected to feel or hear the book’s song but it was silent, which he found more unnerving. He hesitated at the intersection of the path, staring silently at the daunting black board.

“Xisuma.” The deep, ghostly, unnatural voice nearly sent Xisuma out of his skin and he spun, coming face to face with Rendog. The undead hermit was startling to say the least, his appearance ragged. This was the first time Xisuma had seen him at all since he had demised and Xisuma felt a mix of primal fear and deep grief at the sight.

“Hello Ren…” He wasn’t sure what else to say, or how on guard he should be but the hermits were his friends and that included Ren. He wanted to be able to trust his friends, even if they were undead. Besides, looking Ren in the eyes he noticed that the diggity dog seemed to still be himself, unlike Grian who wasn’t even dead.

“Oh good you didn’t just up and run away.” Ren said with a sigh of relief, his voice sounding a little closer to normal.

“Has… that been a problem?” Xisuma asked, frowning at the idea of the hermits being that afraid of each other.

“A bit, I seem to just scare everyone off.” Rendog admitted, sounding disappointed by that.

“Well you are on the dead team to be fair.” Xisuma pointed out.

“I know that but I’m not trying to demise anyone right now, I just need help with Speedy Pines.” Rendog explained, pointing over his shoulder in the general direction of the game.

“Wait… you’re still working on that?”

“Why not? Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I should give up on everything.” Rendog pointed out, and Xisuma had to agree, it must be a little like getting a second chance, at least, that’s how Cleo seemed to treat her Zombisim.

“Good point. So what do you need help with?” Xisuma asked, relaxing a little, seeing the dead weren’t as dangerous as he might have feared after dealing with Grian. Who again, wasn’t even dead.

“The finish line timer.” Rendog offered without hesitation.

“Oh, I suppose you can’t be in two places at once now can you?”

“Nope. Would you mind giving it a test? You can have a lap around the track, I can confirm that is quite a bit of fun.” Rendog offered with a smile, it looked out of place on his grim vestige but Xisuma chose to trust that Ren wasn’t as driven mad by demise as Grian was.

“Sure, it sounds like fun.”

----

“I think we should split up, we’re a bigger target together and we’ll be too busy trying to protect each other to think clearly.” Cleo noted, watching the sunset, Joe was sat beside her, one wing wrapped around her and holding her hand. She wished she hadn’t needed to break the silence, hadn’t needed to bring this lovely moment to an end but they were sitting ducks here.

“I see what you mean, we are more efficient survivors independently. We will be actively hunted now though.” Joe pointed out quietly, giving her hand a squeeze that betrayed his nerves.

“I know, but as long as neither of us does anything stupid we should be fine.” Cleo said confidently. Joe nodded, sighing heavily, looking to her with a whirlwind of uncertainty in his eyes, she supposed that was her doing, she only felt a little guilty though. She knew damn well if she hadn’t taken the chance she’d have always wondered what could have been.

“Cleo… what happens if the game comes down to just the two of us?”

“We steal the diamonds and claim victory as a team.” She said with a nod, not sure if that would work or not but sure as hell ready to try it. Either way it seemed to make Joe feel better as he relaxed.

“Alright, then we split up and look after ourselves until that point. Is there a place we can rendezvous to discuss any future plans? Or a place for a dead drop perhaps?” Joe asked thoughtfully.

“Well… we need to be careful of being seen by other hermits or where traps may crop up, but I doubt anyone would expect us to operate right under Grian’s nose. He’s got that abandoned project in Hermit Land, the haunted mansion game he never finished.” Cleo pointed out.

“That will work. Cleo… Don’t demise.” Joe said softly, leaning into her space as if asking permission.

“I’m not going to Joe, but you better be waiting on me when it’s time to swoop in and claim victory.” Cleo smirked before leaning the rest of the way and granting him the kiss he desired. Even if they couldn’t win, she’d have no regrets about this moment.

---

Xisuma got settled in the boat on the ice track. He’d started to feel a bit unsafe with the amount of pressure plates Rendog had used around doors and such but Ren had gone first on these things, surely he didn’t want to risk destroying so much hard work. Xisuma was certain he was safe, this would be alright, fun.

Rendog called a start and Xisuma was off, zipping around the track as quickly as he could go while keeping his boat steady, with the ice exposed it was easy to tell where the faster lanes were and with no other players to bump him around he only had the slippery nature of the track to contend with. It was something that took a good deal of skill or a stupid amount of luck to do well with but he was deturmined to give it a good, honest shot. Especially being one of the first timed if Rendog’s redstone was working flawlessly. Even if it wasn’t though, he intended to help Ren get it running smoothly since he did know a bit about timers.

The corners were rough, it was near impossible to stay on course when he didn’t have a good feel for the track but it was also decently sharp, causing him to drift into a wall and lose a decent amount of speed. Xisuma didn’t let that discourage him though, he really was having fun with the track and found himself looking forward to future races with other hermits. Rounding the last corner he could see the thin stripes of red concrete that showed a count of how many blocks were left to the finish, though he didn’t know the intervals they were set. The finish line was also ahead, he was almost there. It was lined with pressure plates on a similar red band, which made perfect sense for both stopping the boat and triggering the timer to stop.

His boat gave a soft scrape sound as it weighed down on the stone pressure plates and came to a stop, but rather than normal redstone triggering, the sound that greeted Xisuma was the hiss of TNT being ignited.

“No! Ren!” Xisuma stammered, panicked and betrayed he tried to scramble free of the boat but there wasn’t enough time to escape. Xisuma’s awareness was claimed by heat and pain, by thunderous noise and blinding light. His ears were still ringing when he found himself dazed in a dark pit filled with water. He was tangled in tripwires tethered to more TNT, his body was screaming so many signals of damage at him he wasn’t sure just how bad he was hurt. Rather than waste time taking stock of himself, he knew he was doomed, he found himself looking up through the hole he’d been dropped in through. There looming above, watching with menacing silence, was the Grimdog himself. Xisuma hadn’t thought of him like that until now, but somehow the name came to mind with the faint rhythm of Demise’s call.

Xisuma found himself almost relieved when the second blast went off, as that explosion spiraled him into painless darkness after the blinding brightness faded. Sending him into cold silence, a peaceful contrast to the nightmare he’d just suffered.

----

Hours had passed, night having long since fallen and the three hermits not playing demise were still sitting silently in Xisuma’s base, one watching the portal and the other two watching the entrance through the ceiling but there was no sign of Xisuma. What there had been, was an intense wave of dread all three had felt a couple hours ago. That feeling hadn’t faded, it still loomed over all of them and combined with Xisuma not making it back…

“He shouldn’t have gone alone.” Zedaph broke the silence first, clearly riled up.

“I’m not sure any of us could have helped him. If… If something, someone, got him.” Mumbo muttered glumly.

“This is getting us nowhere and fighting will do worse. We need a new plan.” Python cut in sharply, ending an argument before it could start.

“Got any ideas?” Zed asked, deflating and looking depressed. Python looked unsure though and Mumbo sighed.

“We need answers and I think I know where to get them. It might be risky though.”

“Then we’re going in together, no more splitting up!” Zedaph said in a tone that left no room for argument. Mumbo nodded his agreement.

“You two will have to stay hidden but an ambush is exactly what we’re going to need.” Mumbo admitted.

“Go on.” Python encouraged.

---

Cold, damp dirt gave way under Grimdog’s shovel as he dug away at Xisuma’s recent grave, intending for it to be a little easier to break free of when he woke. Ren had done this for stress as well, since clawing his way through the deep dark ground had been perhaps the most terrifying part of his reawakening. He was just about to remove the last few shovels worth he was going to bother with when suddenly there was a gut wrenching pull and the world around him blurred. It was like using an ender pearl but unexpected and much more unpleasant. He’d been through this twice already, once yanked out of his own crypt to see Stress die, the second time pulled only a half dozen blocks to watch Xisuma be vaporized by TNT.

He really didn’t want to think about the state the first line of TNT had left the hermit leader in, it had been a gruesome sight. Instead he turned his attention to getting his bearings, he knew he didn’t have long before he saw another Hermit demise. He spotted Mumbo’s massive sphere base when he looked behind himself and looking down he realized he was standing on the roof of one of the cityscape buildings on a smaller island, the buildings were overgrown but the build looked quite impressive.

Looking ahead Grimdog finally spotted what he’d been drawn to this place for and a wicked grin pulled at the edge of his lips. In the sky, flying that way was Jevin, the Hermit with wings that looked like kites made of blue, hardened slime was distracted. Grimdog had to really wonder how foolhardy or overconfident one had to be in order to fly while reading. A heavy ocean breeze swept out over the waters and it rustled Grimdog’s robes but it also blew Jevin off course. The hermit didn't pay it any heed, just tilting with the gust then leveling out again without looking up. Perhaps he’d flown over this little island a dozen times or more before Mumbo constructed this building and Jevin didn’t actually know it was there, that was all the reaper of a hermit could figure as Jevin flew into his completely avoidable death. Jevin hit the wall hard, shaking the windows of the structure and an audible splatter sound followed the impact. It was different from Stress hitting the ground as well, and looking over the edge of the roof, there was nothing left but a wide blue splash on the side of the wall.

It had been so ridiculous that Grimdog couldn’t hold back the wave of laughter that overtook him, it wasn’t quite wicked either, mostly just surprised and amused. Once the fit faded though he worked his way down the side of the building to gather up Jevin’s dropped belongings, figuring the hermit might want them back. He chuckled on and off all the way back to the graveyard, the dark laughter making him more unapproachable than usual.

Chapter Text

They were going to get caught… Scar was torn between not caring and being terrified, causing this little meeting between he and Iskall to be all the more thrilling, the stakes felt high, the potential for his entire life to fall apart in the blink of an eye. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop as Iskall pressed him harder against the wall, the way Iskall’s lips pressed against his, then pulled away, causing the builder to have to chase them. His own fingers digging into the green suit jacket to keep Iskall from getting away. Scar would forget to breathe if Iskall didn’t pull away for just that reason, leaving them both flushed and gasping. It was almost frustrating how Iskall was quicker to recover, pulling at the collar of Scar’s shirt so he could leave a line of almost-not-gentle kisses down Scar’s neck. The redstoner drawing gasped whimpers from the talented builder. So lost to the pleasure of Iskall’s presence Scar almost didn’t hear a voice echo through the volcanic cave.

“Oh, hi Jellie, aren’t you a good girl? You are, look at you.” Cub’s voice was just loud enough to hear but even if he hadn’t he would have known something was up from the way Iskall pulled away suddenly, springing back like a startled cat. 

Quickly Iskall started adjusting his suit jacket and putting effort into looking neutral but Scar struggled to recover anywhere near as quickly, especially with the taste of Iskall’s lips still on his.

“Oops. Did, uh, did I interrupt?” Cub asked as he walked into sight and Scar’s heart sank. He searched Cub’s expression for any clues as to what the shrewd businessman was feeling but he didn’t look at all troubled or upset. There was something but Scar couldn’t place it, it wasn’t what he was expecting making it harder to discern, there was no hurt, jealousy or anger though.

“Uh, listen, Cub. You see, um…” Scar stammered, not sure how to even react to Cub’s lack of reaction.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s not like I didn’t already know. Was kinda funny seeing how long you guys thought you could hide your romance from me, though.” Cub laughed, amused. The way his posture and expression were held, again there was something there but clearly he’d had time to think things over, he was a level headed hermit. He’d accepted this romance between his friends without any fuss.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be upset.” Iskall said, letting go of a long breath of relief.

“You’re… you’re okay with this?” Scar asked softly, still trying to figure out what it was he was reading in Cub.

“Of course! I love you both, seeing you find happiness in each other’s arms… I know you’ll both be alright. It’s a relief really.” Cub said and Scar felt he knew exactly the words the other Vex had omitted, It’s a relief because you made my choice for me. Scar could see it now, Cub had been indecisive, torn and now he’d been left out. Scar understood because he’d felt the same way, it was Iskall who’d made the first move.

Glancing at Iskall he could see his boyfriend seemed to be on a similar train of thought, with the way he was looking at Cub.

“Well, er, anyway. Scar when you have a minute drop by the office, I have some things I need to show you.” Cub said, rubbing the back of his neck while looking at neither of them, like he felt like he’d let on a little more than he’d meant to.

“Uh… yeah, I’ll be by soon.” Scar said, trying to recover from the whiplash.

With a nod Cub turned and headed back the way he’d come, but Scar didn’t watch him leave as Iskall got his attention, pulling him over. Scar cast Iskall a curious look and the redstoner returned it with a serious one.

“I mean… there’s no reason the three of us can’t be happy together, is there?” Iskall asked quietly and Scar blinked at him, taken off guard all over again.

“Wait… you mean..?” Scar asked, trying to keep up with the rush of thoughts and feelings flooding him at that moment. Iskall nodded and then tipped his head in the direction of Cub, who hadn’t quite made it out of the cave yet.

With an excited smile Scar darted after Cub, catching his hand and causing the other Vex to turn in surprise. Surprise that Scar had no doubt deepened when he moved forward just a bit more to catch the other hermit's lips with his own. There was an uncertainty in the way Cub returned the kiss, considering the Vex knew Iskall was standing just blocks away. Scar smirked at the color dusting Cub's face as he stepped back again and before Cub could quite formulate a question Iskall was tapping his shoulder from behind him. Cub tensed as he turned, possibly expecting to get punched, that's not what happened though. While Iskall did grab Cub it was only to pull him into reach for another kiss. Scar grinned like a giddy idiot as he watched Cub's confusion evaporated, the other Vex relaxing and returning that kiss, too.

"Well... this changes a few things." Cub chuckled softly once Iskall let him free with a quick wink at Scar, Cub's smile became one of real, genuine happiness and it made Scar's heart dance.

----

False took a steadying breath as she entered the graveyard with a shulker carefully tucked under one arm. She was nervous, walking into the territory claimed by the dead but that was far outweighed by her worry for her demised friends. That nasty book had pulled the wool over her eyes when she signed up but now, now that hermits were falling under its power, she could see it for the sham it was. She knew everyone was on edge about it and after almost falling victim to a trap Cub and Tango set for Ren without warning her, she realized that the dead weren’t even being respected.

Quietly she glanced around, reading the names scratched into each headstone and above the entrances to the crypts. Finding Rendog’s she headed inside and carefully descended the ladder there. She ignored the map on the far end, looking for and quickly pinpointing the stone sarcophagus. False set the shulker down and removed a bundle of flowers from it, bringing the lovely boquete to lay across the stone top. The flowers and foliage she’d chosen for Ren were those that reminded her most of him, roses, ferns and sprigs of spruce.

After a few kind words quietly aimed at the demised hermit, whether he heard them or not, False retrieved her shulker and headed back up and outside. She turned her attention now to the graves and noticed one was mostly dug out, that one being Xisuma’s. She felt a bit unsettled looking at it but set her shulker down next to it anyway and reached in to grab the bouquet she’d made for the fallen leader. Cornflowers and orange tulips, as blue and orange were his favorite colors, these paired with a few sprigs of acacia leaves did make her think of Xisuma.

She was quietly contemplating where to set the bouquet when she heard a noise from within the grave and froze, gaze falling to the thin layer of dirt on the coffin there. That dirt slid away with a scraping sound as the lid was pushed open by a gray toned Xisuma, all the color having leached from everything but his helmet, the vizor was now tinted green. He glanced up and spotted her instantly, he looked somewhat dazed, like he hadn’t fully realized what was going on yet. Silently she passed the flowers down to him, not sure what else to do or say, though her expression was probably easy enough to read.

“Oh, are these for me, because I’m dead?” he asked and False nodded, watching as a smile reached the dead hermit’s eyes before he looked back at them, pulling his helmet off with his free hand so he could smell them. “Thank you, these are lovely.”

“I couldn’t just do nothing.” She said, there was a comforted tone to the undead hermit’s voice and that somehow brought her a bit of comfort as well. “Do you need a hand out of there?”

“Oh, yes thank you.” He said, hastily shoving his helmet back on before reaching out to take her outstretched hand. Her grip was firm and she was smart about her balance, giving Xisuma enough leverage to climb out of the grave.

“It’s really kind of you to drop by, False.” The unnatural echo to Rendog’s voice was somehow not threatening and she glanced over to where he was leaning on another gravestone, the bouquet she’d left in his crypt now in his hands and his attention on it.

“Hey, you killed me.” Xisuma said in an absolutely nonchalant tone. False was almost startled by how unbothered Xisuma sounded but then, there wasn’t much point in being fussed when it was already too late she supposed.

“Welcome to the dead team, brother.” Rendog said with a dark chuckle, clearly not having any regrets for whatever he did. False didn’t care to ask, instead picking up her shulker and heading deeper into the graveyard. She must have quipped the curiosity of the other two as they followed her.

Again she repeated the process with the shulker but this time the bouquet was laid down on untouched grass, the undug and empty grave that had been laid out for Wels. She heard Xisuma let out a depressed sigh behind her and she had to agree with the sentiment. He’d been the actual first to fall to all this madness, without his name in the book he was truly lost to them.

Still, there was nothing to be done about it now, depressing and painful as it was. With a heavy sigh she stood, turning to find Rendog looking off at another dug up grave.

“Jevin should be awake soon.” He noted in his ghostly voice and Xisuma tilted his head.

“Jevin? Who got him?”

“He got himself, it was hilarious.” The Grimdog chuckled darkly.

“Poor Jevin…” False muttered quietly, saddened all over again. She set to making another bouquet for him, bringing the blue and white bundle of flowers over to his grave and kneeling beside it. There was no sound or movement though so she ended up just setting the flowers down beside the hole, standing and glancing around for any indication of Stress. One of the other Crypts was coated in ice with icicles hanging from it’s roof, there was no doubt who it belonged to so False made her way below. It was frigid, suddenly not feeling anything like the swamp. Snow crunched under False’s feet as she looked around, then freezing still at what she saw. Perhaps she just wasn’t ready to see Stress like that, or perhaps the absolute stillness of the other hermit was chilling when compared to the two above but False felt very deeply upset by seeing Stress as she was. Quietly the shulker was set down and flowers were retrieved yet again, aliums, white tulips and with those in hand False stepped into the smaller chamber.

Stress was laid out on top of the lid of her stone sarcophagus, hands folded on her chest, wings carefully folded under her. Her eyes were closed, as if she were only asleep but she was as still as the stone on which she lay. The state of her stood out the most, she honestly looked dead with her color drained and her body still showing evidence of her fall. Gently False lifted one of Stress’ hands, it was icy to the touch and stiff but did lift up from the ice queen’s chest. Gingerly False set the flowers down against the motionless hermit and rested her hand back in place over the stems. The bouquet was coated in a layer of frost right before False’s eyes. Part of her wanted to hope that this meant Stress would rise a second time, but she’d heard Tango bragging, she knew what had happened and she wasn’t sure how the book would treat those who failed.

False didn’t notice her own tears until they fell to land on Stress’ shoulder, freezing instantly to leave further mark that False had been here. False remained there for a while, head bowed and grieving.

---

Tango sauntered into Impulse’s base with a big grin, looking around for his lover without calling for him and soon enough he found the other hermit, sat on the glass floor that looked down into a slime farm. Impulse was entirely absorbed in what he was doing, a half dumped chest of string beside him and a net spread out across the floor. The other redstoner was working tirelessly at tying knot after knot.

“What’cha doin’ handsome?” Tango asked, pausing at the edge of the net to look it over, it was already quite big and the knots looked really tight, the string twisted into a sturdy but light rope.

“Making a net.” Impulse said, as if that wasn’t already obvious. Tango tensed when Impulse looked up to meet his gaze, there was a strange sort of emptiness to his eyes, like, the lights were on but no one was home. It was spooky, unsettling and Tango found his reply dying in his throat. With a couple of blinks though, Impulse suddenly seemed perfectly normal if not mildly confused. “Hey handsome, what are you doing here?”

“Uh, oh right! So me and Cubby started this whole Breath over Death thing and I was gonna see if you wanted in on it.” Tango explained, grin finding its way back into place.

“Sounds cool, yeah, let me see what I’ve got to contribute…” Impulse smiled, standing he glanced at the net in his hands and looked absolutely bewildered by it. With a shrug he slung it against the chest of string and headed for his nearest storage system. “I think I’ve got some potions that will be useful for staying alive… some golden apples I can spare.”

Tango held a shulker while Impulse fished things from his chest and handed them over, there was nothing out of place about his lover now so Tango shoved the odd moment aside as unimportant. As a shulker was filled up Tango would swap for an empty one and after a few were filled Impulse grabbed a few more supplies and turned.

“Let’s go set up some stands where anyone alive can get some.” Impulse suggested and Tango nodded his agreement.

“I love the way you think.” Tango smirked and stepped in close for a sneaky kiss and escaped before Impulse could react.

“Hey! I’m gonna get you back for that one.” Impulse laughed, falling into step behind Tango.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” Tango winked at him over his shoulder and loved the reaction that brought. Together they started setting up stands anywhere useful they could think of, outside of iTrade, in the nether hub, the mall and so on. By the time they’d installed the last of the barrels Tango was quite happy with the aid his beloved had offered towards keeping hermits alive.

“Hopefully that will help someone out.” Impulse said as he leaned against the posted barrel.

“I’m sure it will, this was a brilliant idea. The question is, what do we do next?” Tango asked, resting his face against the side of his fist to hide the smirk he could feel pulling at his lips. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what Impulse would have in mind.

“If you don’t have any other plans…” Impulse smirked, pushing off the barrel and grabbing hold of the tactical vest Tango had on, pulling him close. “I think I owe you some payback.”

“Now you’re talking.” Tango grinned, not complaining when Impulse kissed him then started dragging him back through the portal. Just before Hermitville blurred from sight in the purple haze he caught sight of something. It was Rendog, landing on the platform from the roof, just dropping into place and then looming.

Then he and Impulse were in the nether and Impulse was dragging him back down the tunnel. He was a bit more distracted than he would have liked, constantly checking over his shoulder as they returned to the main island.

---

“Welcome to the bunker, boys.” Cub said, holding his hands out wide to present the room before them, just below Top Gunpowder.

“This is brilliant, well done Cub.” Iskall said, looking around and clearly approving of the build style.

“I feel safer already.” Scar laughed, running out across the bridge to have a look around.

“There are multiple hidden exits including the painting at the end of the canal, it’s a basic trick but it works.”

“It does indeed. Alright this seems like a good choice. What is it you have on your mind?” Iskall asked and Scar pulled his attention off of Cub’s fine work to focus on the conversation.

“Demise. We need a plan.” Cub said, patting the palm of one had with the back of the other.

“Good point, I was originally considering making a resort that I could rent to the other living hermits… but as soon as one dies the place won’t be secure anymore. Someone is bound to get caught in a trap if they are away from the place.”

“Yeah, that would pose a problem.” Scar nodded, crossing his arms as he considered the issue.

“I’m fine with abandoning the project in favor of helping one of you.” Iskall offered.

“Well, I am trying to get Cherry reopened, there is a lot of building to be done but that might be a bit of a conflict of interest?” Scar frowned, worried about Iskall helping his rival company for no apparent reason.

“I don’t see why considering Iskall still has his mercenary services available, if I’m remembering correctly.” Cub pointed out.

“Oh true, if there’s a contract then there will be nothing for the rest of Sahara to complain about.” Iskall noted thoughtfully.

“Same goes for the ConCorp board.” Cub nodded.

“This works out perfectly then!” Scar said cheerfully, loving this plan.

“We are going to win this thing, together.” Cub said, pulling Scar and Iskall into a tight hug, resting his head against both of theirs. Scar wrapped his arm around both his boyfriends as Iskall did the same, in all honesty Scar couldn’t be happier. Moments like this meant more than he had words to say and made the dangers of Demise worth standing against.

---

Mumbo took a long, deep breath, doing his best to keep his nerves from showing as he circled the Sahara meeting table. It was his own fault he didn’t have a chair to sit in but he hoped that was at least enough of an excuse to be wandering around in circles. He knew he shouldn’t be so worried, he, Python and Zedaph had planned this out carefully. He wasn’t alone, those two poised on top of the terrarium, hidden with invisibility potions.

Mumbo glanced nervously to the hole in the window, knowing Grian should arrive any second, at least, the thing that was wearing Grian. The memory of the look in Grian’s eyes still haunted the redstoner, terrified him. It had been so empty and twisted, it made Mumbo wonder if he’d ever see the real Grian again, or if the builder was gone forever. The redstoner didn’t have any longer to contemplate that though, as he glanced to the window again he spotted a figure flying that way. Drawing in another steadying breath Mumbo leaned against the table and waited.

Grian landed, even his movements seemed strange, the way his wings snapped closed and folded out of the way seemed so threatening in and of itself. Worse was the way his posture shifted as he did so, then turned to Mumbo.

“Where’s Iskall?”

“Couldn’t make it, we can worry about downgrading his chair in a minute, there are important things to discuss.” Mumbo said, brushing aside the entirely uninformed hermit as least suspiciously as he could.

“Huh, I see… What about you, Mumbo? How ever did you get here?” Grian asked, his tone cold as he circled past Mumbo towards his own chair.

“Oh, right, well, I flew, like you did.” Mumbo said, dancing around the question carefully.

“Oh Mumbo Jumbo, my sweet spoon. You know what I mean.” Grian practically purred, each word void of the normally sweet tone and now dripping with venom. Mumbo turned to face him, arms crossed as he considered his next words carefully.

“Maybe I do, maybe I’m trying to leave it as water under the bridge. Give you a second chance.” Mumbo said, eyeing Grian closely to see how he’d react.

“Well… aren’t you the forgiving one.” Grian noted under his breath before rising from his chair. He stepped up on the table and walked over, crouching beside where Mumbo was leaned.

“Are you still in there somewhere?” Mumbo asked softly, searching those deranged, dark eyes for any sign of the mischievous builder he knew. There were none though, only a darkness that threatened to pull Mumbo in and rip him to shreds.

“You should have joined in when you had the chance… we could have had so much fun.” Grian all but hissed, reaching out with lighting speed to grab Mumbo’s hair, pulling him down before the poor spoon had time to respond. Still, Mumbo had enough wits about him to raise his arms and he managed to deflect Grian’s Trident as it came for his throat, stabbing into the glass table instead. Mumbo’s arms trembled as he fought against the surprisingly strong builder, not that Mumbo was weak he just hadn’t fought Grian before. He’d had no reason or want to do so.

After what seemed like too long of a struggle Grian was pulled off of Mumbo, kicking and spitting insults. Mumbo sat up and looked over, seeing Grian get tied up by seemingly thin air as his wings and hands were bound tightly behind him.

“I dare say you could have moved a little faster.” Mumbo said exasperatedly, glancing to his arm, which was bleeding from the trident strike.

“Sorry, he moved faster than we expected.” Python said distractedly, he and the other still invisible hermit forcing Grian into his ridiculously large chair.

“Are you okay?” Zedaph asked.

“I’m fine.” Mumbo assured them, physically that was pretty much true, emotionally though, he was a simmering mess that was barely staying in the pot.

“What is this? ‘How to catch a Grian’? What is it you are trying to accomplish?” Grian questioned darkly, staring Mumbo down like a caged bear.

“What are you?” Mumbo asked, standing and walking across the table, towering over Grian, leveling Grian’s own Fork of Friendship at the builder.

“I’m a hermit.” Grian answered, tilting his head.

“You aren’t Grian, so you aren’t a hermit. Now answer me. Who and what are you? ” Mumbo demanded, puffing up as much as he could, trying to sound as threatening as he could.

“I’m Grian, a Hermit.” Grian repeated, almost sounding himself, relaxing his face and almost managing to look afraid. His eyes were still empty though. “What’s going on? Why are you guys doing this to me?”

“ Don’t you DARE pretend to be him!” Mumbo snarled, more worked up than he’d ever remembered being in all his life, bringing the Trident even closer to Grian’s throat.

“Are you the book? The demise book?” Python asked, slowly coming back into sight, he was sitting on the table next to where Mumbo was standing.

“No, but I am what Demise needed me to be. I am its Envoy, its voice, its hands. I was Grian, I am what Demise sculpted Grian’s mind to be. He was weak, easy to drown. I am Grian now and I am here to stay. Now. I’ve told you all I am willing too, let me go.” Grian said with an empty, haunting tone, not sounding anything like himself.

“Let him go!” Mumbo snapped, furious.

“Oh come now, Mumbo, I may not be the same but I can still be the ladle to your spoon. I have his memories, I know how to make you happy.” The Envoy said, voice taking an alluring tone that was also wrong for Grian, it sent a chill up Mumbo’s spine.

“No. I don’t like possessed soup in my ladle, thank you very much.” Mumbo said firmly, but inside he was a mess, his heart ached, he was terrified. Was Grian truly gone? Was the Grian that Mumbo knew and loved… dead?

“Well. You can’t say I didn’t offer.” The Envoy that was once Grian huffed, tone going cold again as he sat back in his chair.

“How do we stop demise?” Zedaph asked finally, now in view again as well, his arms crossed.

“Like I’ve already said, I’ve said all I’m willing to say.” The possessed hermit said and tilted his face to the ceiling, refusing to give in. “Now your choices are to let me go, or kill me.”

---

Building was easily one of Scar’s favorite things to do and it showed, he knew. He couldn’t work the redstone wizardry that his boyfriends could and that was fine. He was happiest when building, it had a therapeutic effect on the mind and with Iskall stationed just outside of the Cherry Warehouse Scar could properly relax. Even with demise on, he was safe and he appreciated that.

Finally he stepped back to admire his work… and take note of what supplies he still needed to finish the floors of the second wing. After some quick calculations he bounced over to his enderchest and fished out the last three loose diamonds he had, all the rest were tied up in the hourglass over Cherry. With that he hopped out the door to where Iskall was sitting on guard.

“Is this enough to get a couple stacks of bone blocks and some food at Sahara?” Scar asked, holding the diamonds up cheerfully.

“Yes, those are a stack per.” Iskall nodded, standing.

“Perfect!” Scar smiled brightly, spinning on his heel to head for the nether portal.

“Oh, nonono, you hold up and wait right there.” Iskall said sternly and Scar could practically hear the finger wiggle from Iskall’s voice.

“Oh-okay.” Scar laughed, stopping right where he was as Iskall headed for the ender chest and returned with a fire resistance potion.

“Drink that. Until there is a proper portal in place with a tunnel you aren’t leaving here without doing so.” Iskall said firmly, taking his position as bodyguard seriously.

“Your wish is my command.” Scar said with a wink and accepting the potion. It wasn’t the best tasting thing in the world, but he could feel it’s effects kicking in right away.

“Alright, now we can go.” Iskall said with a nod, to which Scar grinned, looping one of his arms around one of Iskall’s and practically prancing to the portal. Iskall laughed and pranced with him, amused. Once on the other side of the portal Scar was considerably more careful and he scanned the open nether for any nearby threats, Iskall doing the same then quickly they headed along the bridge of netherrack.

It didn’t take long to get to the main hub and Iskall glided and swooped out into its large space. Scar admired him but was nowhere near as flashy a flyer as that, he swooped sharply down to the portal he wanted to use and stepped into it.

“Sahara has its-” Iskall called but Scar was already through before his boyfriend could finish the sentence.

All at once Scar regretted his decision, on the other side of the portal was nothing but darkness and before he could even attempt to get his bearings he found himself falling. He let out a startled cry but his descent stopped suddenly. A hand grabbing his arm, the sound of a pickaxe screeching on obsidian above him and leaving him hanging over what sounded like water full of pufferfish. Scar was quick to grab hold of who he assumed was Iskall, clinging for dear life as he looked up. In the faint glow of the portal he could see Iskall, straddled over the hole Scar had fallen into. Iskall’s pickaxe was barely buried into the obsidian beside him, one foot on that wall as an added brace but his other foot was barely holding the ledge of the portal frame.

“Don’t you dare let go.” Iskall said, strain evident in his voice and Scar tightened his grip but he could hear a slow squeal as the pick started to slide. Scar wasn’t light, he had his fair share of muscle and as strong as Iskall was this looked too precarious to recover from with his own added weight. Thinking fast Scar gave his wings a few quick flutters but his wings were too big in the tight space, all he did was make Iskall’s balance more precarious.

“Well, this is quite the scene.” It took a second with the depth and reverberations to it but he recognized Rendog’s voice, carefully perched on the edge of the portal frame, smirking at them. “It would be so easy to give you just a… little push.”

“Don’t.” Iskall snarled protectively, trying to heave Scar upwards but it was no use, he didn’t have nearly enough leverage. Scar could see it, he could tell Rendog was just toying with them but had every intention of pushing Iskall in. Scar realized then, he realized he was a dead hermit either way and with a steadying breath he spoke up.

“Iskall, I love you. Tell Cub I love him too and… I hope you can both forgive me.” Scar said, his heart wrenching at the thought of the pain he was about to cause, but he was going to give Iskall the best odds he could. He let go of Iskall’s arm and twisted his own, forcing himself free.

“ SCAAAR! ” Iskall screamed, Scar could even hear it as he splashed down into the water. Instantly he was assaulted by numerous angry pufferfish and despite instinctively trying to swim to keep his head above water there were too many of the furious fish, his body quickly stopped responding and he slipped under, he could hear someone screaming but he wasn’t sure if it was himself or someone else. Either way water was rushing in to replace the air of his lungs and the pain was intense, he wasn’t sure which would kill him first. Then another sensation started, a burning, it felt like his very body was breaking apart but finally, everything went dark, silent, painless.

---

“ SCAAAR! ” Iskall screamed, never in all his life had he felt such panic, watching as Scar plummeted into the dark water below, screaming and thrashing and then… so quickly, it was silent. “No… no nonono!”

“You could just dive in and join him, us.” Ren said darkly from next to him and while the undead hermit had a perfect opportunity to knock Iskall in he hadn’t done so, but it was clear he was thinking about it. Iskall wasn’t going to give him any more time to contemplate, kicking off the wall and swinging his pickaxe hard at the other. Rendog was fast to back into the portal but Iskall felt the axe get a solid hit and Iskall was right on his tail on passing through the portal. He saw Rendog take to the air and went right after him, draconic wings beating hard to catch the agile reaper.

“You could have helped us! You could have saved him!” Iskall roared after Rendog, chasing him with a vengeance.

“Why would I let you out of my own trap?” Rendog called back, working hard to reach the second level of the nether hub.

“You BASTARD!” Iskall screamed, throwing his trident at the fleeing grayskin. His hit was right on the mark, sending Rendog crashing into the archway of one of the tunnels. Iskall’s trident returned to his hand and he was fast to tackle the monster, seeing nothing but red as he raised his trident again.

The tines of Rendog’s trident caught Iskall’s on the second swing and it became a struggle to get either one free enough for a hit. The scuffle that ensued was violent and Iskall took a few hits but he didn’t care. Iskall was not dissuaded, drawing a sword in his offhand rushing in close to stab his opponent squarely in the chest.

Iskall watched with a sickening satisfaction as the hermit who he’d once trusted with his own life, who he’d once been dear friends with, broke apart into black ash, smoldering at their edges until… he was gone.

Chapter Text

It was late when Cub heard someone enter the bunker, quietly he set his book aside and stood from bed, grabbing his sword on the way. Only Iskall and Scar should know where the bunker was but then, Joe had found it on accident during its early construction. He was fairly sure he’d deterred that particular hermit from coming back but, it was best to just be prepared. At first glance on seeing who had arrived, Cub almost thought he might be dealing with a member of the dead. He saw a battered hermit leaning on the wall of the stairwell, he was covered in blood, his head was down but as he lifted it Cub realized it was Iskall. There was still color to his skin, but there were also tears trailing down one side of his face. A cold sense of dread settled in as Cub realized what this likely meant.

“I… I failed.” Iskall said, just barely loud enough to hear before his sword clattered to the ground. In all honesty those words cut deeper than even that sword could have, the pain that surged through Cub’s heart was worse than anything he could have imagined. He closed his eyes, having to take a minute to let that sink in, that Scar…

There was another clatter and Cub looked back up to see Iskall had collapsed to the floor, there was blood smeared on the wall where he’d been leaning and more on the ground than Cub was comfortable with. With as much pain as he was in, he had to set his grief aside for the moment, rushing over to Iskall’s side. He was wounded badly, trident jabs and sword slashes, he’d been in one hell of a fight, that was for sure.

Gently as possible, Cub pulled Iskall back to his feet, draped Iskall’s arm over his shoulders and wrapped his other arm around Iskall’s back to carry more than lead him to the brewing room. Carefully he set Iskall down on one of the work spaces to lean on the wall.

“He… he… wanted me to tell you…” Iskall muttered.

“Save your strength and tell me later.” Cub barked sharply, rushing about the room getting everything needed and returning to simply cut the ruined shirt off. “You’re bleeding out, I’m not losing you both tonight.”

Iskall fell silent and Cub worked fast, working with precise and practiced hands Cub quickly got Iskall patched up. The bleeding stopped and potions drank, the other hermit looked a little less like he could drop right into his grave at any second.

“I’m sorry…” Iskall whispered, still shaking but Cub could at least be certain it wasn’t from injuries.

“If there was anything to be done, you would have. I have full faith in you on that, Iskall.” Cub assured him softly, wrapping the other hermit in a gentle hug. Iskall rested his head on Cub’s shoulder,

“I…  I failed him. He… he let go. He didn’t want Rendog to have the chance to take us both down, I think.” Iskall’s voice was shakier than Cub had ever heard but it made perfect sense, he wasn’t sure what exactly had happened aside from Scar’s death, but it had to have been horrible.

“I know you did everything you could have. Stop blaming yourself.” Cub insisted, it already hurt losing Scar, but hearing Iskall tear into himself for it was more than he could bear.

“I made Rendog pay, at least.” Iskall muttered, sounding somewhere between exhausted and sick. “And Scar he… He wanted me to tell you, he loved you.”

“I never doubted that.” Cub admitted, his voice cracking ever so slightly and Iskall hugged him a little tighter in response. Cub remained there for a while, not bothering to fight his own tears as he held Iskall close. Finally Cub took a steadying breath and adjusted his grasp on Iskall, guiding him back out of the room silently. He went slow, careful not to let Iskall twist any of the healing wounds, making the sluggish shuffle back to the bedroom. Once there he paused to catch Iskall’s eyes, it was easy to see Iskall did not want to be alone and honestly neither did Cub. They still had each other at least, it was more than either would have had if not for that fateful meeting in the volcano.

Cub got settled beside Iskall, gently wrapping an arm around him and being wrapped in a wing in kind. It wasn’t long before he heard the shift in Iskall’s breathing that signified he’d fallen asleep, exhausted he was sure. Cub just held him, head rested against his, the pain in his chest not fading, the idea of going on without Scar hurt more than anything he’d known in his life. He was fairly certain if not for Iskall, he would have simply followed Scar into the grave, the world had a lot less color now.

---

False was settled beside Stress’ resting place, bundled in an extra coat and reading aloud from a book. She still didn’t know if the dead could wake a second time around but she was holding out hope. As she paused in her speaking to turn the page she heard the cracking of ice and froze, it came again so she stood, turning to face Stressmonster, the ice that had formed over her in a thin sheet was cracking and falling away. Gently False started pulling some of the little chunks of ice away and once enough of it was cleared Stress sat up, silent, not breathing, not opening her eyes, just sitting up.

“Stress?” False asked softly and finally Stress’ eyes flitted open, the undead hermit turning her head to regard False silently.

“Are you okay?” Fasle asked quietly, honestly concerned.

“Well I’m dead if that’s what you mean.” Stress said flatly, her normal cheerful tone nowhere to be found.

“Not quite, your physical state is obvious enough. I’m worried about you. ” False explained.

“You shouldn’t worry about a monster like me.” Stress said bitterly, looking away.

False sighed, wrapping Stress in a tight hug despite how much cold the undead hermit radiated now. Holding her tightly, as if she could chase some of that cold away.

“False…” Stress muttered, sounding a bit less irritated.

“I’m here for you, dead or not I still care.” False assured her.

“That’s more than some… You have no idea how much this means.” Stress sighed, hugging her back.

“I know that demise probably wants you setting traps but… why don’t we go play some games instead?” Stress asked.

“That sounds brilliant, I’m not very good at setting traps anyway.” Stress admitted, pulling out of False’s grasp enough to meet her gaze. False could see the troubled look there, it was clear Stress wasn’t all that comfortable with her fate.

Giving stress a reassuring smile she took the dead girl’s hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “I’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, False.” Stress smiled, comforted.

“Come on, let’s go have fun!” False said cheerfully, heading for the ladder and pulling Stress along with her. Once up the ladder False took Stress’ hand again, exiting the crypt together.

“Stress! You’re awake!” Jevin exclaimed on spotting them, relief clear in his voice.

“Jevin, you’ve died too?” Stress blinked.

“Yeah, me and Xisuma both, also, Scar’s grave has filled in.” Jevin explained, pointing to it.

“He’s so clumsy, somehow I’m not surprised.” She sighed.

“Yeah, but Ren usually digs the graves up apparently and… he’s unconscious in his tomb like you were.”

“What happened?” False gasped.

“I don’t know.” He admitted.

“Well… I guess we better do his part for Scar, in case he doesn’t wake in time.” False noted, taking a shovel and heading for the grave. She felt a little odd digging up a fresh grave but she figured this had to be better than Scar trying to dig his way out from underneath. Jevin took shovel to dirt as well, together they made quick work of the dirt and False raided her flower box yet again to leave a bouquet for Scar.

That done she turned back to Stress who had stayed a few steps back to keep from freezing the ground. Taking Stress’ hand in hers they made their way back out of the graveyard, calling farewell to Jevin on their way.

---

With a shulker of foodstuffs packed for a specific villager living below Area 77, Doc headed for the containment hanger, his pace slow as his mind lingered on other things. He was still trying to sort through the pain of basically losing Rendog… but the hermit still being around. It was a strange situation, usually when someone died they didn’t rise again, Cleo was previously the only exception.

Doc was snapped from his thoughts as he stepped into the large hanger, instantly something felt off. He couldn’t see anything amiss from the entrance but he wasn’t going to doubt his instincts right now. He backed back out of the hanger, just a step and let out a long low whistle that pitched up at the end. He didn’t have to wait long before Hanz and Franz came running, both skitting to a stop as they reached the hanger. Doc watched as both foxes went from excited to on edge in a blink, their ears pinning back and both going tense. Drawing his trident he proceeded cautiously, pausing to peek under shelves and listen closely, in S1 though, he could only hear the wind outside whistling into the hanger door. Neither fox let out any warning barks, both investigated with him, slipping under the shelves to sniff and generally working their way through the hanger a few steps ahead of him.

Drawing in a breath as he weighed logic against instinct Doc continued deeper into the hanger, watching for traps as well as clues. He gave the command for the foxes to stay close to him and kept a keen eye out for pressure plates or tripwires. What he spotted instead was a blood coated feather. He paused to examine it, it was large enough to belong to a hermit’s wing but it was so drenched and now dried that he couldn’t guess the original color, it could have belonged to any of the feathered hermits.

Now even more on edge he continued his cautious sweep of the upper level, seeing nothing amiss with S3 but as soon as he set foot into S2 he spotted a trail of blood leading towards the secret door to S4’s elevator. Scar hadn’t been back in some time and no one else was supposed to know about that entrance but Grian, Rendog and Impulse certainly did. That was just enough that, with demise being what it was and how strange Grian had acted, left him more than a little uncomfortable.

Doc slipped through the doors into the decontamination chamber without issue, everything still functioning as it should but there were more little splotches of blood leading to the elevator. Hanz and Franz fussed a little at the decontamination chamber but that was normal, they’d never liked it much and they were anxious to exit it. Doc couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that rose as he peered down the shaft, the floor below was darker than it should be. With a steadying breath he steeled himself, scooped up the foxes and stepped off the ledge, drifting down to land lightly on the floor below, immediately dropping into a crouch. Both foxes were growling before he set them down and they stuck to his sides like glue once he did, whatever had happened or was down here had them more on edge than he’d ever seen.

The hall beyond was mostly dark, what little light remained cast a tainted, brown glow across the floors and walls, occasionally brightening for a split second as a damaged endrod flickered. There was a faint, foul scent to go along with the dried blood but it wasn’t quite strong enough to identify yet.

Trident in hand, Doc stalked slowly down the hall, his wings producing a subtle red glow in the darkness though that did little to combat the weight of the shadows. Right down the middle of the wing there was a trail of blood, smeared in long lines this time, drag marks. He followed these until he reached a large stain, what had been an alarmingly large pool of blood that was now dry. Doc had the sinking feeling whoever had been brought down here against his knowledge was probably dead, he didn’t like the idea of someone turning Area 77 into a crime scene under his nose.

Following the larger dragmarks down the next wing of S4 the foul smell grew stronger, it was rancid and Doc finally placed it. It was the smell of death and decay, of rotting flesh, of a body awaiting discovery. Doing his best not to breathe too deeply Doc continued on, walking beside the long smears of blood in the darker hall. The foxes stayed so low to the ground they were practically crawling. Quiet growls and soft whimpers speaking to their discomfort as they stayed just out from underfoot. His nerves were frayed, his grip on his trident was tight, not trusting the oddly quiet darkness.

Ahead some of the badly damaged endrods flickered to life briefly and Doc’s eyes caught movement in the air ahead. He froze, watching that direction, waiting. Several long beats dragged by before another endrod decided to try and produce some level of light. It was brief, just a flash, but it enough. There was a rope suspended from the ceiling, a figure hanging from it by the neck, one wing visible in the silhouette and what little hope Doc had of finding this victim still alive was vanishing fast.

He lifted into the air and headed for where he remembered the rope to be suspended from. Carefully he cut it, easing the body down slowly, though it was lighter than he expected he wasn’t sure if he should be more concerned or not. He landed next to it and placed down a couple of torches so he could see what he was doing. He wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of him.

The ‘body’ that had been hanging by a noose was an armor stand. However the armor it wore was unmistakably that of Wels. However, the wing… the bloody, severed wing, also belonged to Wels. There was no sign of the rest of the Knight, however, only his wing and Doc’s stomach twisted into knots as he was forced to wonder just how many pieces his friend had been butchered into. As much as he didn’t want to, Doc had to investigate further, the wing had been roughly stitched and tied to the armorstand after being threaded through the back of the armor, causing it to hang limp the way it had. The cut was also messy, it was hard to say if it had been fast or slow, but it looked purposefully painful.

Unable to stomach any more of the gruesome scene or the rancid smell, Doc stepped back and looked at the floor with the added light he’d put down. It was only now he noticed large letters written in blood.

‘Don’t resist the call.’

Doc snarled under his breath at that, now more certain who or at least what was behind this. Looking around further he didn’t see any more clues at a glance but he was going to be thorough after this. He was not willing to miss anything important.

With the aid of Hanz and Franz, each cell was checked in turn, Doc was expecting to find more pieces of the stalwart knight scattered around S4. It wasn’t until the last cell to be checked that there came a rise out of the foxes, pawing at the door and whimpering. Even with him braced for absolute horror… he wasn’t prepared for what he found in Villager Grian’s containment cell.

---

Reverently, Cub placed a fresh cake in the gauntlet, taking a few steps back to kneel, raising his wings up behind him and bowing his head. Already he sensed the vex magic stirring around him.

“I seek guidance, I seek wisdom. O mighty Vex, how do I return our fallen from the grave? What task must be completed to return Scar from the dead?” Cub asked, his voice heavy with respect. Steadily the magic sturred around him, creeping in on him, light of blue and white wrapping his hand for a moment and when it dissipated there was a totem of undying left in his hand. He remained perfectly still as the magic danced through his wings, like a tiny gale that existed nowhere else. It caused his vex gifted wings to chime and hum as the feathers brushed against each other. Through this he could hear the voice of the Vex.

‘Walk the brink without fear, laugh in the very face of death itself.’

All at once the wind died away, the magic going dormant again and leaving Cub with the totem and his own thoughts. Without any hesitation he took to the air, flying out away from Concorp to somewhere remote and unlit. He scanned the ground below until he found what he was looking for and swooped down, landing beside a Creeper. It turned, approaching him instantly and he didn’t resist, walking over to give it a hug. It exploded, sending him flying in a shower of green and yellow orbs, however there was just a blinding blast, he didn’t see anything to actually laugh in the face of.

Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy he realized, drinking a potion before returning to the air, as soon as he was in the sky again another totem appeared in his hand.

---

“Just tell us.” Mumbo insisted yet again but Grian remained silent, not looking at any of them.

“I mean, what have you got to worry about, if you are so sure Demise will succeed than why don’t you humor them?” Someone asked from the window and everyone turned to look that way.

There stood Keralis, not quite in the room.

“Keralis… what are you doing here?” Mumbo asked almost sheepishly, this couldn’t look very good for the company…

“I came to check Sahara Now and heard the scuffle.” Keralis explained and then looked to Grian. “So how about it big, bad demise Envoy, why don’t you just answer their questions, if we are all doomed anyway? Or do you have less faith in this game than you claim?”

Grian glared Keralis down, if looks could kill Mumbo was fairly certain Keralis would have disintegrated.

“Chicken?” Keralis taunted, making chicken noises.

“Tch, fine! Enough of this nonsense. I will take you to the place the book rested until recently. Perhaps you will find your petty answers there. You best stock up, it is a long trip, especially if you don’t untie my wings.” Grian growled at the lot of them. “But not you Keralis, you stay here and play with the others.”

“Aww, but I like trips.” Keralis pouted.

“I have made my conditions clear.” Grian snapped at them.

“Fine, meanie.” Keralis huffed and took off out the window. Despite how odd the interaction was Mumbo was quietly thankful for Keralis’ help, he wasn’t sure anything else would have broken the stalemate.

“I suppose we better get ourselves sorted.” Zedaph sighed.

“I will stay here and keep an eye on him.” Mumbo offered.

“Alright, we will be back soon then.” Python said, standing, he and Zedaph leaving.

“You know what I miss most? The nights we spent just up late chatting about nothing in particular.” Grian said once the two had gone, his voice sounding very much his own, sending a chill down Mumbo’s spine. He looked back to Grian, those eyes still not right.

“Stop.” Mumbo said firmly.

“Why are you fighting this so hard? Things could go back to normal if you let it.” Grian said in a soft, soothing tone.

“No, it can’t. You admitted it yourself. You aren’t the Grian I fell in love with.”

“Is your heart really so fickle?”

“You tried to kill me dude, twice! You may look like Grian, you may have his memories, but that’s not what I loved him for and I’m not going to waste my time on a pale shadow. Whatever you are, you aren’t him and you’ll never stand up to the greatness that was Grian.” Mumbo said firmly, not even realizing he was frustrated to tears until he felt them slipping through his mustache.

“Aww, did I make the Mumbo cry? How terrible. ” He taunted.

---

Doc stood in stunned silence, the inside of Villager Grian’s containment cell was stark in contrast to the rest of S4, untouched with the villager safe, but he wasn’t alone. Sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet hanging into it was the missing Knight, his head hanging a bit low, his one remaining wing carefully folded against his bare back. Doc wasn’t sure how to react, he’d been so prepared, so braced to find Wels dead that seeing him alive was enough relief to nearly knock him over. Quickly Doc pulled himself together though, hurrying that way.

“Wels!” Doc called out in a tone he thought was cheerful, still, Wels jumped, he was on his feet and facing Doc in a blink, fists up, feet in a fighting stance. Even as injured as he was, it was clear it would take more than what he’d already suffered to bring the Knight down. This drew a growl from Hanz, both he and Franz tensing, waiting for a command that Doc wasn’t about to give. With open palms Doc patted the air in front of him. “It’s alright Wels, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Oh… hard to tell these days.” Wels said, relaxing his stance but he still looked prepared to snap Doc in half if need be.

“I know, it’s a mess out there. What happened to you though? How did you end up in here?” Doc asked and with the air going calm between he and Wels, his foxes calmed as well, laying at his feet.

“I’m not entirely sure. I was guarding the demise signup to try and stop hermits from falling into its trap. Grian tried to get me to sign up, I refused and a short while later it all goes black. I want to say it’s him but I don’t have much in the way of evidence. My wing was removed by I don’t know who, I’d rather not go into details about it and then later I woke up here.” Wels stated firmly, doing his best to gloss right past what had no doubt been an agonizing moment in his life. Just the confirmation that the knight had been awake for that kind of tourture made Doc feel ill.

“I’m sorry Wels, and I’m sorry I haven’t found you sooner, I never would have guessed someone would trespass and hide a prisoner here.” Doc said calmly and sighed, shaking his head.

“You weren’t involved, that’s enough.” Wels said with a dismissive wave.

“Let’s get you out of here, there’s a lot going on to catch up on.” Doc sighed.

---

Cub took a steadying breath, clutching the totem in his off hand and folding his wings tight against his back he stepped off the edge and plummeted down into the ravine below. He felt the sharp impact, showered in the orbs again as the totem spared his life. Still though, she saw no vestige of death to laugh in the face of. As a new totem formed in his hand his thoughts spun, trying to discern exactly what the Vex wanted of him. With a slow breath he got back to his feet and rose up into the air again, returning the way he’d come. He found himself wandering after he left the cave system, lost in thought as he tried to think of some way to get into death’s face.

There had to be something, surely. He would figure out what the Vex meant and he’d get Scar back, of that he had no doubts. He could do this, he knew.

---

“Hello? Is anyone out there?” Scar called from the dark place he was lying, he could feel that the walls were close. “It smells like pine in here… Where am I?”

After a moment he decided to push upwards and the coffin lid lifted, showing the night sky above. He was in a grave, his grave. He was dead, he remembered now.

“Oh, right.” He muttered to himself, the memory of his death chilling his already cold spine. What was perhaps more troubling though, was Iskall screaming out his name and that sent a wave of worry through the builder. He didn’t know if Iskall had actually survived. Pulling himself up Scar climbed out of his grave, finding a bouquet someone had left for him. No sooner had he picked it up though, did he spot a creeper heading right for him. With a terrified squeak Scar darted for the first structure he saw, finding a ladder he hurried down, hoping the creeper wouldn’t follow. After a few minutes of tense staring at the hole in the ceiling he figured he’d given the creature the slip and looked around.

He was in a crypt, that much was evident but there was also signs of recent activity, there was a map on the far wall, the location of the nether portal he’d died in was pinned. There were a few other locations as well but Scar didn’t linger on the map, glancing to the right of the ladder there was a smaller chamber, inside a stone sarcophagus with its lid askew. Curious, Scar moved closer to peek inside. Lying within was Rendog, still as death. Scar wasn’t sure if the other undead hermit was sleeping or if something had happened to him but it would be rude to wake him if he was just sleeping so Scar crept back out of the room.

Waiting until the sun rose before leaving the crypt Scar finally had a chance to look around the graveyard. He realized every hermit had a grave assigned to them but most had undisturbed grass, this included Iskall’s, to Scar’s relief. With a small sigh Scar looked around, not sure what to do, there weren’t any other Gray Skins around and he didn’t exactly know what their plans were. With that in mind he decided it would probably be fine if he added a new crypt to the graveyard, he needed supplies, though, so he set off for the nether portal.

The Nether felt strange, the usually oppressive heat seemed muted which Scar supposed could count as some kind of bonus. The hub was quiet and Scar found the weight of just how alone he was weighing in on him, he wondered where the other hermits were, what they were doing, alive or dead. Building traps or places to hide, he suspected, glancing around the main area of the second level as he stepped out of the tunnel. Still he was all alone and peering down to the area below he found it equally void of life. With a small sigh he fluttered down, though he moved faster than he expected and on landing he looked his wings over. They weren’t in any pain, but they looked like they should be. Both wings were filled with small tears, two large rips in his left wing, and one in his right wing. He was relieved they still managed to carry him at all in this shape but decided he’d best be a bit more careful.

Brushing that aside he headed for his base, stepping out onto black sands island a few minutes later, his massive volcano dominating the view before him. It felt strangely vacant as he made his way to the caves beneath and for a moment he worried Jellie might have wandered off… but then there weren't many places for her to go since it was ocean all around. Still he needed to check on her before gathering supplies. Dead or not, Jellie still mattered. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out either, she might be quite hungry and on realizing that he picked up his pace.

Jellie was hanging around in one of the rooms inside the volcano, but she wasn’t alone, Scar noticed right away that someone else was there. He paused in the doorway, silently watching the two, Iskall seemed lost in thought, petting Jellie while she ate. Scar was glad to see she hadn’t been neglected but worried about Iskall.

“Hey.” Scar said softly and in the blink of an eye Iskall was on his feet, weapon drawn and angled Scar’s way.

“Scar…” Iskall said tensely, clearly torn. Seeing that doubt and uncertainty… quite honestly it hurt.

“It’s okay, I just came to check on Jellie… thanks for looking after her.” Scar sighed, taking a step back. He would have simply turned and left then had it not been for Jellie noticing him and hurrying over. With a cheerful ‘mrrf’ sound she all but slung herself against his leg and started purring. That brought a bit of warmth back to Scar’s still heart and he reached down to scoop her up and cuddle her.

“I couldn’t forget her, she’s too important to you.” Iskall pointed out softly, drawing Scar’s attention back his way. Iskall had relaxed, his weapon put away again.

“So are you, you know.” Scar pointed out.

“But.. you’re dead.” Iskall countered.

“So?” Scar questioned.

“Well it’s a bit weird, don’t you think?” Iskall asked uneasily, trying not to offend Scar but clearly very disturbed.

“Yeah I guess I can see where you’re coming from on that.” Scar sighed, hugging Jellie a little tighter and looking away from Iskall.

“It’s just a lot to take in… normally when someone dies they don’t come back. This isn’t some kind of miracle second chance either, I know that book has plans for you.” Iskall stated and Scar could hear the grief in his tone.

“Yeah, I can’t say it’s a preferred way of life… unlife… I feel like I’m supposed to be doing something, but I don’t have the right set of skills.” Scar admitted, scratching Jellie under her chin. “But that’s alright, I know I’ll be able to help, I’ll be the muscle.”

“Yeah, you do that, I’m going to focus on staying alive.” Iskall said uneasily.

“You could just join us.” Scar said before he could catch himself and he didn’t like the way Iskall backed away from him, it was a mix of irritation and regret. The irritation wasn’t his and he did his best to stamp it back down.

“I rather prefer being alive.”

“I know.” Scar said in an apologetic tone, still he didn’t want to risk slipping further under whatever that had been a moment ago so he simply walked away. He didn’t want to hurt Iskall. With Jellie in his arms Scar headed for the island still buried under shulkers to get supplies, giving Iskall ample chance to escape.

---

“Are you sure about this, Cub?” Tango called down from the pillar of stone he was crouched on, an anvil barely balanced beside him.

“I’m sure, just drop it and you’ll see what I’m talking about.” Cub called back up and Impulse could only shake his head. He was sitting well out of the way, mildly concerned for Tango and not sure if he was about to witniss a murder.

The anvil came loose of it’s precarious perch to slam down right on top of the convex but in a shower of green and yellow orbs, Cub walked away from the weaponized lump of iron. With a roar of laughter Cub turned to face Tango and threw his arms wide.

“See! I can’t die! I am Mr. Invincible!” Cub boasted, sounding half crazy.

“You might just win this thing if that’s the case.” Tango noted as he glided down to the ground.

“We’ll see. There are more experiments I need to run, tests I must undertake to see how true this really is.” Cub pointed out, crossing something out in his journal.

“Good luck with that, but uh, really try not to die.” Tango encouraged and Cub laughed at him.

“I’ll be inviting you to see more of these stunts before it’s over.” And with that Cub took to the air and headed off, leaving Tango shaking his head as he came to plop back down beside Impulse.

“I think he’s lost his mind.” Impulse noted, wrapping an arm around Tango, leaning against him.

“Hey if he takes himself out that’s one serious amount of competition less to worry about.” Tango pointed out.

“True.” Impulse chuckled, kissing Tango, just barely brushing Tango’s lips with his own before leaning away again but Tango gave chase, pinning Impulse down in the grass.

“Oh you can’t escape that easily.” Tango said slyly before showering Impulse in a rain of fast, light kisses all over and the redstoner would be lying if he denied enjoying every bit of the attention.

After all, the only thing that mattered was Tango, no one else, nothing else. Just spending these moments with the hermit he loved most, more than anything, even life itself.

Chapter Text

Swinging his left leg around behind him, Doc changed his stance just in time to miss Wels’ incoming fist, but Doc had to stay alert as the seasoned Knight followed that strike with another that Doc was fast to block, catching the other hermit’s arm and snapping forward fast to strike Wels in the chest and knock him back a step. They reset, squaring off again and this time Doc stepped in fast, swinging his fist for Wels’ face. Wels caught Doc’s fist, pushing it off course and slammed his other hand down on Doc’s elbow, causing it to buckle and the doctor to stumble. Doc recovered quickly but took a strike to the ribs in the process. He came back swinging, this time a feint followed by an uppercut that staggered Wels, who tried to use his wings to balanced himself. Of course, he was missing a wing and went tumbling in the direction he had the most weight.

Doc stepped over and held a hand out to the sweaty and now dirty shirtless Knight. Wels took it, letting Doc pull him back to his feet.

“Good fight.” Wels huffed.

“Agreed, you figure out what you needed?”

“Yeah, my balance is way off now. I’ll learn to compensate for it.” Wels assured him, dusting off his pants.

“You’ll have to learn all over again if I make you a replacement.” Doc noted.

“Maybe so but we don’t have time to worry about that right now. Hermits are dying and there’s a book of necromancy trying to corrupt our very minds. I’d say there’s larger concerns than whether or not I can fly.” Wels said dismissively.

“What makes you so sure it’s necromancy specifically?” Doc asked, tilting his head a little.

“It literally rises the dead. Doc that is the definition of necromancy. The power over life and death is a powerful and corruptive one. I heard it trying to get into my head to get me to sign, you did too, I highly doubt it’s anything else.” Wels pointed out sharply.

“When you put it like that it makes perfect sense.” Doc admitted, a little annoyed at himself for not coming to that conclusion.

“The trick now is figuring out how to stop it but it has to be possible. Every spell has a reverse, every curse has a way to be broken. We just have to find it.” Wels said, determined.

---

When Grian- no he wasn’t Grian anymore, when the Envoy had said it would be a long trip Mumbo hadn’t realized just how serious he’d been but from the amount of supplies they’d needed to pack it was clear this was no joke.

Finally though, they were setting out. Mumbo had to admit it felt immensely strange to be tugging what looked like Grian along on a rope. Yet that’s what he was reduced to doing, having to trust the corrupted creature giving directions but not giving it any chance to escape. Of course, he wasn’t the only one with a rope tethered to their prisoner, Python held the other.

“You’ll probably die before we get there.” not-Grian drawled as they walked out of the market district.

“What gives you that idea?” Python questioned.

“We’re walking there. This will take an age and a half. Of course, I shouldn’t complain when you are giving me a better chance of winning.” He said with a dark laugh.

“Yeah you just keep chattering nonsense all you want. We will put an end to this game.” Zedaph said firmly, not the least bit amused.

“Oh what’s the matter Zed? I thought you liked games?” The Envoy teased.

“I don’t like watching my friends die, your game isn’t any such thing it’s just a glorified murder tornamant.” Zedaph shot back harshly.

“That’s still a type of game.” not-Grian scoffed.

“Enough.” Mumbo snapped, already tired of the conversation, sick of hearing the imposter use Grian’s voice. This being was sick, twisted and generally maddening to listen to, though it was likely trying to twist their nerves and get them fighting with each other. For the best then to just ignore him or see to it he stays quiet.

Once they’d reached as far as they were getting on land they loaded the Envoy into a boat, making sure he was secured enough not to send whoever rode with him to a watery grave. It was tense, as likely the entire journey would be. Mumbo opted to be the one rowing while the other two took boats of their own flanking them. It really would be faster to fly but unless they could track down Joe and convince him to help that wasn’t happening and Joe had purposely vanished.

---

“Oh, this one is closed!” Stress huffed as she and False reached the doors of RUN.

“I wonder why.” False laughed, nudging Stress and pointing out some of the other signs and on seeing the repeated ‘there are no more prize’ ‘Keralis seriously stop’ she found herself cracking up.

“Okay fair enough, let’s see what else there is.” Stress said cheerfully, almost feeling like herself again thanks to False, able to relax for the first time since all this started. False took her hand and they were off again, debating games as they passed them by and trying to decide what to play. Some required more than just two players so those were out but in all honesty Stress was enjoying the walk and debate easily as much as whatever game they’d eventually decide on. She was happy to be there with False, to not have to worry about traps or death or any of that such nonsense at the moment. She could be herself for a little while and that meant more than she could put to words. That unsettling urge to kill was still there but she found it much easier to ignore with False there with her, she wasn’t going to let it turn her against False, she refused.

“How about hide and seek?” False suggested as they came to the edge of Scar’s game.

“Oh perfect!” Stress agreed, bouncing along the path down to the entrance, looking over the rules.

“Do you want to seek or shall I?” False asked, resting her chin on Stress’ shoulder. Stress found herself somewhat glad for being dead as she knew she’d be blushing but her body was too cold and colorless to let that show. Even as still and cold as her heart was, it was still riveting to have False’s face so close to her own. It took every fiber of Stress’ will not to turn ever so slightly and smooch the other hermit and so distracted was she that she nearly jumped out of her skin when False spoke again. “Stress?”

“Oh! Uh, yes.” Stress said with an almost frantic nod, not even remembering what the question had been and trying to hide her flusterment from her face, which she apparently failed to do with the way False laughed at her.

“Alright, I’ll hide first then.” False said, pushing the button to start the game’s timer and heading for the gate. Stress just managed to nod before stepping into her waiting place and as soon as the door was closed, she covered her face and quietly screamed into them. If she could die of embarrassment she was fairly sure she would have then and there.

 Dropping her hands from her face she shook her head, she had to stop this. If she’d been unsure about how False might feel about her before she died it had to be obvious after. In all seriousness, no one would want to be romantically involved with a dead girl, besides, False had more class than that even if that was a line people were willing to cross.

By the time the signal went off for her to start her search she had managed to recompose herself and set out in search of the other hermit. She really was having fun spending the day with False like this and she wouldn’t trade it for the world. The thought of what could be plagued Stress as she wandered through the old west town however, she found her mind dragged back to the feeling of False’s face so close to hers. She found herself wishing that kind of closeness could be more common between them. As she searched around hay bales and armor stands she had to remind herself that wasn’t going to happen. From the barn to the saloon Stress wrestled with her own feelings, it was so much harder not to acknowledge them while she was alone, which in turn meant she really wasn’t searching all that thoroughly. However as she reached the back of the building she heard a thud and then running feet outside. Instantly those owl-like hunting instincts were triggered and she was on the move, following the sound. As she honed in on it she realized she could hear False’s breathing, her heart rate as well.

Stress zipped along behind the buildings, wrapped up in the thrill of the hunt much more quickly than she could have realized was possible, her wings working in tight snaps to propel her forward, lengthening her stride. The world around them fell away as Stress’ focus fell on her prey, just as her hands grabbed hold of jacketed shoulders.

‘Prey… no.’ Stress had to shake the thought away, refusing to let herself think of False that way and when she focused on the hermit in her hands False was all smiles, no evidence of fear or nervousness. Stress wasn’t sure if False was just that trusting or if she was purposely being reckless.

“Good job, my turn to find you!” False said happily, clearly having fun and Stress felt herself relaxing further at that and she let go of the other hermit so they could reset the game.

-----------

This… this was a lot of TNT and Bdubs meant it, it was a motherlode of the stuff and to his experience this much TNT tends to be a bad idea, a really bad idea, a crater leaving bad idea. However Bdubs was not the kind of hermit to deny another hermit’s dreams. Even if those dreams would likely be of vaporizing catastrophe. If Cub wanted to blow himself to the moon then by George, Bdubs was gonna support his friend and cheer him on.

From an obsidian box… really far from the explosion. But he’d be cheering alright.

“Should I fall today, during this act of science, all I ask is my legacy be carried on.” Cub said, hand on his chest and sounding oh so noble as he did.

“Don’t worry, I will.” Bdubs said firmly, trying to match Cub’s regal stance but it wasn’t easy, still if he was about to inherit Concorp he had to try. With a salute Cub turned for the tunnel within the giant cube of TNT and Bdubs sprang into the air, his disheveled grackle wings carrying him up and away to the obsidian viewing box already prepared and got settled within. Bdubs watched with bated breath as the entrance of the TNT bomb was sealed and for several long beats there was nothing, there was silence…

Then, all at once those two TNT started flashing and Cub surged forth, running as fast as his legs could carry him but Bdubs seriously doubted the redstone savvy businessman could escape the blast. Speaking of Bdubs ducked into the corner of the box, closing his eyes and covering his ears to protect himself from the massive blast.

In a grand chain reaction all of the TNT detonated, leaving Bdubs with a ringing sensation in its absence. As the ringing died down he finally turned to look out the window, which was showered in sand.

“Well he’s probably dead.” Bdubs noted, leaving the box to take a look at the area below. There was indeed a crater but also a lot of surface damage as so many of the TNT had been blasted out wide. To his surprise he spotted a lab coat wearing form laying in the sand below, Cub hadn’t been vaporized. He didn’t even appear injured as he pulled himself to his feet. Bdubs landed beside the other hermit as Cub through his arms into the air and roared with deranged laughter.

“Is that all you’ve got death!? I am Mr. Invincible! I cannot die! Bring it on death! Face me!” Cub roared, his laughter taking a manic edge that made Bdubs a bit uneasy. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling there was more to this little stunt than there appeared but Bdubs was too afraid to ask what it was he was missing.

“I’m uh, going to go now.” Bdubs said as the laughter died down and Cub glanced over at him.

“Oh, yeah sure thanks for coming to watch.” Cub said, friendly but tired, the manic air seeming to have abated for now.

“Oh, anytime, I love seeing history unfold.” Bdubs assured him before scarpering back off to the safety of his castle, under construction as it was it was certainly safer than being out in the open like this.

---

Wels kept low to the ground, tense and listening to every sound, Doc was doing much the same but it appeared the cost may be clear. Slowly they crept out away from the nether portal in Xisuma’s base. It was dark, which didn’t aid matters any and Wels was more than a little irritated that Xisuma was already dead. Being unable to trust their own leader put a whole new edge on everything and the Knight found himself despising this wretched game.

Cautiously they made their way towards Xisuma’s storage system, there were a few loose shulker boxes strewn about but it really didn’t seem like the hermit was home. As they neared he could see his sword leaning against one of the geometric walls, carefully propped out of the way. With another glance to make sure the coast was clear, Wels slipped over to scoop the enchanted and finely crafted tool up. It felt good to finally have his blade back in his hands, it really wouldn’t have been worth trying to replace it.

Before he could return the sword to its place on his belt the door beside the storage system opened and Xisuma stepped out, a look of shock filling the grayscale features of the leader.

“Wels! You’re alive!” Xisuma exclaimed, sounding surprisingly happy.

“And you aren’t.” Wels stated, not putting the blade away but not leveling it at Xisuma just yet.

“Unfortunately no, I was tricked. That’s neither here nor there, though. I am so glad to see you alive… wait, what happened to your wing?” The smile fell from the Hermit Leader’s voice as he looked Wels over and realized something had happened.

“Looks like Grian cut it off.” Doc spoke up, keeping an eye on Xisuma.

“Oh, that’s dreadful! That book though, it wants us to do dreadful things. It really is in his head more than anyone else's so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m sorry, Wels. It was my fault you even ended up there.” Xisuma said, sounding honestly remorseful.

“I’m the one who did exactly what you cautioned against.” Wels reminded him. “Don’t hold it against yourself.”

“I can’t completely absolve my responsibility in this. You two need to get out of here though. Doc, you aren’t safe here and I can’t say for certain how long I can resist blowing you to smithereens.” Xisuma looked to Doc and it was apparently not a joke though his tone was nonchalant.

--

“How about Ravager’s Run?” Stress suggested offhandedly as they walked.

“Sure.” False smiled, she had no qualms against seeing the tamed creatures up close again and a race sounded like fun. Really, as long as it brought a smile to Stress’ face that’s what mattered. Seeing the hermit she adored the most all monochrome and cold was more than her heart could bear.

Together they headed to the entrance of the game and read over the rules, apparently Cub had updated the system to include a single player mode. Trading a look they set that up, deciding to work together instead of against each other. It just seemed more appealing since it was an option. Shields in hand, False took the door furthest on the right while Stress took one toward the center. False caught herself staring at the other hermit, watching her quietly as she peered through the door.

There was something very special about Stress, she was strong, even rivaling Cleo, being able to keep pace with the undead was impressive in its own right. She was also creative though, her ice castle was stunning and False honestly held so much respect for her, she looked away though, before she could get caught. She didn’t want to upset Stress or make her uncomfortable and now with her dead and False herself alive… that made ever gathering the nerve to tell her how she felt all the more of a faint dream.

“Ready?” Stress called after a moment more.

“Yep!” False called back, attention snapping to the door and then they were rushing through. Stress charged forward, drawing attention and kiting the Ravagers nearest the doors away. False took the opportunity to charge ahead and look for the building they needed to find. The ravagers were tame but also trained to bonk the red or blue shields, two bonks on the shield and a player was out. As soon as a shield was put away the ravagers would lose interest, entirely docile to players near them. False wasn’t exactly sure how Cub had managed to tame them, this many of them for that matter, but she respected the effort and time it had to have taken.

False darted into the first color coded building she needed just before one of the Ravagers could use her for a pingpong ball and she took just the briefest of moments to breathe. She couldn’t give herself long though, knowing Stress was still out there acting as a distraction so quickly False was on the move again. She grabbed up the colored block and burst back out the door, breaking into a dead run. She could hear a ravager right on her tail and didn’t dare look behind her. The way ahead was clear though so she didn’t slow, dashing hard down the street and all but slamming into the door before it could open.

It was undeniably satisfying to slam the block into its place on the scoreboard and she leaned against it a moment to catch her breath again. Before she’d quite recovered she heard the door and then another block slammed into place. Looking up she was met with the sight of Stress, disheveled but looking proud, a big grin on her face and in that moment False would have given anything to just step over and kiss the other hermit.

“One left!” Stress said, not sounding as out of breath as she normally would and False guessed that being dead must have some advantage. False nodded and they headed back in, repeating their previous tactic of Stress kiting the Ravagers, she didn’t draw them all though and False had to pick her path carefully, dodging the oversized bulls with agile skill. She heard the ravagers shatter a shield not far away and she realized Stress was out, she was on her own now. Not about to let the other hermit down, False made her way to the target building and darted in, grabbing up the last block and making her way back out again.

The street was filled with ravagers who were quick to notice her shield. Even though the creatures were tame it was still daunting to see and with a single steadying breath she darted down the next street, trying to make her way around. As she rounded the corner back towards the main road she was met with a ravager and barely brought her shield up in time to block it but she used that momentum from it’s headbutt to make a break for the main doors again. With a cracked shield on her arm and an adrenaline rush False slammed the last block down into place.

“You did it!” Stress cheered as she exited the arena.

“Couldn’t have without you.” False pointed out with a smile and wrapped Stress in a hug once she was close enough, all but sinking into the cool sensation of the undead hermit.

“Oh, you got really worked up.” Stress noted, rubbing False’s back gently and False could have died happy right then and there.

“I hope you two weren’t planning a second game.” False didn’t miss the way Stress tensed suddenly, a very quiet growl escaping the other Hermit at the sound of Cub’s voice.

“I don’t think I could manage another round.” False admitted, lifting her head and turning slightly to follow the voice. Cub stood in the middle of the ready area with a shulker in hand, he was giving Stress a suspicious look.

“Alright good-”

“Why? You have a problem with the dead playing your game?” Stress snapped, cutting him off, False could feel Stress’ hands shaking against her.

“No, it’s time to feed the ravagers.” Cub stated, nothing about his expression or posture speaking anything friendly.

“Please, there’s no reason to fight.” False said gently, glancing between the two.

“As long as she controls herself we’ve got no issue here.” Cub assured her, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Stress.

“You attacked me before.”

“Only because you assaulted Grian.”

“He killed me!” Stress pointed out sharply, tone high in pitch from the level of insult. Cub patted the air.

“Fair enough, but all we saw was someone dead attacking someone alive. I’ll stay out of it next time.” Cub assured her and Stress finally started to relax.

“Good, you’d better.” Stress sounded a bit more level as she calmed a little more. Cub glanced from the two of them to the entrance of Ravager’s Run and back again.

“You two want to help feed these guys?”

“Wait, really?” False asked to which Cub nodded and she looked to Stress.

“That… might be fun.” Stress admitted, still seeming unsure how to feel about Cub himself.

“Great, come on then.” Cub said, motioning for them to follow and heading inside. False moved to follow and Stress stuck close to her, she noticed the hermit was still tense so she took Stress’ hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Stress flashed her a smile, comforted by that little gesture.

The Ravagers made quite the fuss as they followed Cub, almost squishing False and Stress in their attempt to tag along. Once they reached the little plaza within the false city Cub set down shulkers and waved the girls over. Together they spread the food out in long lines and False was surprised that the diets of the creatures seemed so heavily plant based. Somehow she’d expected them to eat meat, but they didn’t. With the food all spread out the ravagers had calmed down, focused on their meal now and standing still enough to be petted. After watching Cub pet one of them for a minute False dared to do the same with another, the creature didn’t seem to mind and was surprisingly soft.

Glancing over, False was glad to see Stress also petting one of the ravagers and that the creature didn’t seem to mind her radiative cold aura. Even though a bit of frost built up on its fur where she wasn’t petting. She did notice though and was careful not to pet any of them for too long. False couldn’t help but watch her, the way she moved from ravager to ravager to pet each one gently in the fading light. Everything was cast in a soft orange glow as the sun set, the false buildings casting long shadows across the plaza.

“Are you alright, Cub?” Stress asked, drawing False from her own thoughts and she glanced over to their friend. Cub looked a little withdrawn but he glanced over to Stress as he answered.

“Just a lot on my mind… Scar is on your team, you know.”

“Y-yeah, I know. It’s… it’s really not that bad, being dead.” Stress assured him, though she looked uncertain if that was the reassurance he needed.

“Maybe so…” Cub muttered, absently petting another ravager and sighing. “Anyway, I’m going to be performing a few stunts after sundown. You two are welcome to come watch if you like.”

“Sounds like you’re having second thoughts.” False noted quietly.

“No one is forcing you to do anything stupid, are they? I can attest to that being a bad idea to just… agree.” Stress pointed out, sounding honestly worried.

“No one is putting me up to this but me… it has to work this time…” He muttered.

“What does?” False asked but he shook his head.

“You’ll see if I succeed this time… anyway, I should get going, it’s almost time.” He said, stepping away from the Ravagers then taking to the air.

False glanced to Stress who shrugged before following suit and with one last pat to one of the ravagers False kicked off into the air as well.

--

The sun was already dipping low as they chose a place to camp, they’d only barely reached land again and Python wanted to keep going but he knew they all needed rest. Even the Envoy looked worn out, reminding Python that while it was a monster before them it was still limited to the same mortality as they were, it was still Grian’s body. It was depressing to see the builder in this state, Grian hadn’t been a bad person, chaotic sure but that had led to a lot of fun. This thing that had taken his place though...

Zedaph got a fire going while Python helped Mumbo get Grian tied securely into place. The hermit tried not to let his thoughts run away with him, he’d managed to keep a level head through all of this but now that it was quiet and they were waiting for the night… now his questions were a bit louder in his mind. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest if he didn’t at least ask.

“What did you do to Wels?” He just needed an answer, needed to know if it was a grave he was looking for.

“I put him somewhere safe… and made sure he could never leave.” The Envoy replied, tilting his head a little and smiling wide, as if enjoying the memory.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Python snapped at him, creeped out and sure he wasn’t going to like the answer when he did wrench it free.

“It means he won’t be getting in my way.”

“Why not?”

“Because I dragged him to the depths of darkness and ripped him apart. He will never touch the sky again, he will never see another sunrise.” not-Grian practically purred, leaning against the ropes to sneer at him.

“So… you killed him then.” Python felt sick muttering the words and felt mocked as the Envoy laughed at him.

“He was still breathing and bleeding when I left. He could still be alive, but he also might not be. He’s like a cat inside a box. An enigma until you open said box.”

“So where’s the box?” Python demanded, hating this but again this was laughed at, however no answer followed, just that sneer. Python started to demand more answers when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking over he saw Mumbo.

“You’re going to let him drive you mad. Stop.” Mumbo said firmly, it was clear from the look in his eyes he understood the pain and he knew Mumbo was right, this wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He still had just as many questions as answers.

--

Cub would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, this was his largest stunt yet, but that was why it had to work, it had to. He had two more lined up but he was really leaning on this one to do the trick. He just needed to look death right in the eye and laugh . That was it, how could something so simple have become so impossible to accomplish? He supposed though, if it was an easy feat more people would be brought back from the grave more often. Still. He had to try, for Scar.

He landed in front of the bleachers he’d laid out earlier, looking to see who’d come to watch the spectacle he had planned. False and Stress were just landing as well, having followed him over from Ravager’s Run. There as well though, was Tango, Xisuma… and Scar. That was a lot more members of the dead team than he was really comfortable with, but what could he do? It felt like a bad omen to have them around, like vultures circling in the sky above, but running them off might prove more deadly.

“Welcome everyone! Thank you for coming. Today you will witness the amazing tenacity of Mr. Invincible. Aka, me.” Cub said, covering his nerves as he held his hands out wide, filling his voice with a deep theatrical tone.

“Man, what are you doing?” Tango questioned, crossing his arms.

“Like I told you man, I can’t die.”

“So you keep pushing it? What happened to Breath over Death?”

“If I don’t die I’m still part of the movement, am I not? For science I have to see how far this goes.” Cub insisted, though in the back of his mind he acknowledged that wasn’t the case.

“Alright man but I hope you’re right. Kinda spooky with these Gray Skins hanging around.” Tango said, giving the dead a judgmental sideways glance.

“Yeah I know, I was kinda hoping they wouldn’t show up.” Cub admitted.

“Seriously? No respect, none at all.” Xisuma scoffed.

“Oh come on, Cub, being dead doesn’t make that much of a difference.” Scar said but there was an unsettled, hurt edge to his voice.

“You lot are just chomping at the bit for an excuse to kill us, you’re murderous monsters.” Cub said sharply, still not trusting what that vile book had done to them. His suspicions felt validated a split second later when Scar lunged at him, springing from the bleachers, his eyes having gone entirely black like pits of the abyss. Cub didn’t have nearly enough time to escape, seeing that face filled with unbridled rage just before Scar’s cold hands wrapped around Cub’s throat and he was falling backwards.

“You won’t be showing so much disrespect when you’re one of us.” Scar snarled, not sounding anything like himself. It was terrifying, the sweet, docile builder was suddenly a killing machine and Cub was fairly sure he’d made the gravest mistake in all his life. As air became impossible to draw in and he heard shouting around him Cub was certain he’d finally get his chance to look death in the eye but he worried he’d have no breath to laugh at it.

Then, like some miracle sent from the Vex themselves, Cub could breathe again, the vice like grip removed from his throat. Coughing, Cub sat up, someone there offering their support but Cub’s gaze was searching for his would-be murderer. Scar was just a few steps away, black eyes still locked onto Cub with a rage filled vengeance. Holding him back were Stress and Xisuma both. Stress had put herself between him and Scar, one hand on his chest, one on his shoulder and her feet set in a strong stance as she leaned and pushed Scar back. Xisuma had an arm around Scar’s other arm, his feet set in a strong stance and pulling against the berzerked Gray Skin.

“Stop right now.” False said, stepping between Cub and Scar, her attention on the builder and Cub had to admit, he couldn’t have found the level of bravery she just showed. “This isn’t you, Scar, pull yourself together.”

“F-false?” Scar muttered in a confused tone and Cub watched as the two holding Scar back relaxed, he couldn’t see Scar though.

“I’m right here, everything is okay Scar, you can calm down.” False said, her stern tone making way for a soothing one.

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right.” Scar said, sounding dazed but allowing the other two Gray Skins to pull him back to his seat. As they did False spun to face Cub, pulling him to his feet and pulling over whoever had been beside him, Tango he realized.

“You two had better learn to show some respect or your going to end up very dead!” False said in a low, harsh tone.

“Uh… yeah.” Tango muttered, startled more by False than anything else it sounded like.

“I… won’t make that mistake again.” Cub assured her and with another sharp look aimed at both of them False nodded and let go, returning to the stand. Cub took a steadying breath as Tango too, returned to the stand, once everyone was settled Cub brought his best announcer voice forth again, somehow managing to continue hiding just how nervous he felt.

“This first stunt will be a fall from build height to four slime blocks set to explode on contact, should I survive that I will bounce across two more to the finish line.” He explained and with a doubtful sigh from False and a cheer from Tango, Cub turned for the scaffolding. It was a long climb, he had to get that over with before the others could get bored, or one of the dead decided to knock the scaffold out from under him… he hadn’t considered that possibility.

As he climbed, hand over fist, up and up, he glanced now and then at the bleachers, to those watching and after he was about a hundred blocks up, he noticed someone he hadn’t seen before, sitting with the other dead team members… it was Rendog. He looked so dreadfully spooky but… he also looked almost transparent and no one else had reacted to his presence that Cub could tell. He could tell the undead hermit was watching him, that dead gaze locked on him and it sent a chill up his spine. Somehow… Somehow Cub felt he knew he wasn’t going to survive this stunt.

The show had to go on and Cub wasn’t going to get spooked out of doing this. Remembering the blackened eyes of Scar… even if he fell here he had to at least try to free Scar from this curse he was under. It made his stomach churn, the thought that this ‘game’ had twisted the builder so thoroughly. To see someone so sweet and so kind turned into a cold blooded killer, it was worth every bit of risk to try and save him.

At the top of the scaffolding was a strange level of calm. The only sound was a faint breeze blowing through the scaffolding, the night air crisp and the world so far below he couldn’t quite see it through the faint haze of clouds. This, this was his last chance to back out, to preserve his life but that wasn’t what he was going to do, the thought not even crossing his mind. Instead he clutched the totem tightly, his thoughts focused on the task before him.

“Show yourself, death.” He muttered into the empty air, folding his wings tightly against his back he dropped forward, falling. Wind filled his ears as the ground rushed up to meet him. All too quickly the pool of lava and blocks of slime came into view and he braced himself, knees bent he was ready to hit his target and bounce up again. He struck it, dead on and was propelled back into the air, the first group of slime exploded behind him as he struck the second, launching him up again. Just as he touched down on the smaller target those behind him exploded… then after one more bounce he came to a stop, he’d expected the momentum to carry him further but… he was alive. He laughed, throwing his hands out wide theatrically. This wasn’t it though, this wasn’t close enough, there was no vestige of death to be laughing at.

Looking to his audience Cub realized one of them was missing… Suspicious he spread his wings, glancing around in time to spot Xisuma luring a skeleton his way. Oh no… Cub launched himself into the air, fully intending to just fly clear of the death pit he was standing in the middle of but the skeleton was a sharp shot, Cub felt an arrow burry into the shoulder of his left wing and that was very quickly followed by intense pain all over. He was in the lava faster than he could register he was out of the air. He flailed to reach the edge, to pull himself out, he felt it as the damage was healed at cost of the totem but… it wasn’t enough.

Burning enveloped everything, the heat consumed everything leaving him with the feeling of both sinking and being melted alive. He felt his body being broken apart, as if unraveling… then he saw it. He could see death before him, right there, close enough to touch but Cub had no voice, he had no breath, he had no way to laugh at it. As darkness engulfed Cub’s very existence he couldn’t find the will to even mentally laugh at death. The very last tangible thought to pass through Cub’s mind…

Was that he, too, had failed Scar.

Chapter Text

With the last block of glass settled into place Cleo’s untrappable base was set and ready. She looked it over approvingly, the water sandwiched between layers of glass, pillars of water suspending the base high in the air. She hated the height but she didn’t actually intend to use this place. Dubbing it untrappable, when she let the information leak about it, would make it impossible for the dead to resist, she was fairly sure. If they were busy trapping this place then they wouldn’t be hunting her down, at least that was her logic. With a final glance around she was satisfied that the place was ready and a final nod was what she commended her own hard work with. She leapt from the edge, her wings fluttering softly as she flew out towards the land.

She had to admit that being alive again had its perks, even with the stress that came with it. Her wings for one, they felt a lot stronger and more reliable than she’d ever remembered them being. It didn’t quite chase away her discomfort with heights but she at least felt a little more capable flying on her own, which was good, considering she had no idea where Joe was. That was for his safety and hers though, as he didn’t know where she was either. If either of them died, they wouldn’t be able to target each other.

Still, she found her mind wandering to the hermit she cared about most, hoping he was doing alright but unable to shake the worry he might end up in some strange situation or another. He was on the move, but would that really be enough to protect him? Or would he end up running head first into unexpected traps? With a heavy sigh, she pushed the thought from her mind, landing softly on the ground. She turned, looking back up to her dummy base, it did look rather majestic up there, so she could be proud of that much.

Now though, it was time for something else and she was not going to sit in any one place for very long, at least not out in the open. She kept alert as she traveled but she was mulling over where to go, she knew she needed to find somewhere secure to rest, even if that place changed periodically.

--

With one more swing of his sword to cut away the thick overgrowth, yellowed and dry as it was, their apparent destination was ahead. Mumbo found himself frozen in place from the sheer wrongness of this place. The land before them, in one huge clearing was blackened, not quite burned looking but there was no vegetation within the dark circle. It felt like the place was tainted, or stained, like some horrible event had taken place here and it left a feeling of trepidation unlike any other.

“Ah, here we are.” The Envoy said in a nonchalant tone, entirely unbothered, but of course he wouldn’t be. Mumbo shot the bound, possessed hermit a scowl before trekking out into the open, Python and Zedaph following suit.

“This is where the book was?” Python asked.

“Below, there, see?” The Envoy clarified, pointing to a stone slab that was easily missed, just as blackened as the dirt around it. In the center though, was a hole.

“Well that doesn’t look perilous at all.” Zedaph said dryly.

“Oh don’t be such a sissy.” Not-Grian said with an eye roll, continuing forward and jerking against the ropes still holding him.

“Is it trapped?” Python demanded, digging in his heels and allowing the anchor needed to definitely stop the other.

“Does it matter? Are you going to back out now after all this?” The Envoy questioned, giving Python a threatening look, like an agitated polar bear about to strike.

“Enough, let’s go.” Mumbo cut in, yanking the Envoy around to face the way they were going. “You lead.”

“My, my, my. Is Grian disposable now?” The creature that had stolen Grian’s body snickered, clearly amused.

--

“So you don’t have any idea where they’ve gone, then.” Wels frowned, crossing his arms.

“I’m afraid not.” Keralis shrugged.

“But at least we know they’re looking for answers.” Doc noted.

“I hope they find them. We have to put this madness to an end.” Wels added, still concerned.

“Until then though, Doc could I get your help with a tiny little bit of redstone?” Keralis asked, sounding overly sweet.

“Of course, just lead the way.” Doc said cheerfully, seeming happy to help.

“It’s in the village.” Keralis said, turning towards the road with no regard to Area 77’s fence. Wels fell into step with them, not really wanting to either be alone or leave his one current ally undefended. Not that Doc couldn't defend himself, Wels just didn’t trust much of anything at the moment. For all he knew Keralis could be leading Doc into a trap. He hoped that wasn’t the case but he’d seen first hand how insane this ‘game’ had driven some of the Hermits.

“You know Doc, this is an incredibly inefficient barrier.” Wels noted as the three hermits and two foxes passed through the fence.

“It is just for decoration.” Doc defended weakly but Wels could tell it was intended to be a fence from the way the rest of Area 77 was designed. Still, the Knight just shook his head and let the subject fall, walking with the other two to the road leading to New New Hermitvill, which he hadn’t actually seen yet. He was delighted when he did however, admiring the hard work of Bdubs with the fine medieval style of the buildings. Keralis was explaining the plan for having the place be a tourist attraction as they crossed the bridge, it sounded a little hairbrained but seeing the town itself he had to admit it would be worth paying to see properly at some point. It was only half built for now though and Keralis led the way to a quaint little house, explaining that it was Bdubs and Wels could definitely see the builder’s style to it.

“We just need to uh, flush ourselves here…” Keralis continued as he stepped into the house.

“Wait…” Wels frowned, glancing around the interior of the house after following Doc inside. Right away he saw where Keralis was indicating and Wels had to let out a long, annoyed sigh while Doc laughed.

“Not many people would look for an entrance there, well, I can think of someone who did this in the past. I missed it for ages.”

“See it’s the perfect plan.” Keralis grinned before stepping into the composter used for a latrine and Wels just sighed again and shook his head.

“I’ll just… wait outside. Open wounds and all.” Wels said, having no desire to go through that particular hidden door.

“Yeah, probably for the best. You keep an eye out for trouble above ground.” Doc nodded and Wels turned back for the door, stepping out. He found himself appreciating the fresh air all the more.

Glancing up to the sky, to the puffy white clouds floating out there he felt a restlessness stir within him, the urge to fly, it made his remaining wing twitch and he had to just close his eyes, silently remembering the sensation. He could almost still feel his severed wing, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it, he did. As he opened his eyes and looked back to the sky though, he felt a sober sort of acceptance settling in. Even if Doc could replace the wing, it wouldn’t be the same and that was only if they all survived this demise fiasco. His fists balled and he scowled at nothing in particular, he had a few choice words for Grian if and when their paths crossed again.

That reminded him though, that Python was traveling with Grian right now and that brought a whole new level of worry to the Knight’s mind. Python likely still thought he was dead, as most had assumed as much from what Doc said. He had to just hope that Python wouldn’t do anything reckless, he was fairly sure he wouldn’t but then… there was very little that seemed certain at the moment.

--

Impulse couldn’t remember what he was doing here… he’d come to the nether hub for some reason right? His mind felt foggy, heavy, almost like something had been chewing on it, like it was full of shadowy worms. He shook his head, trying desperately to clear it but the oppressive heat of the nether really wasn’t helping matters much. He halfheartedly considered leaving but half the portals were trapped on this side, he didn’t care to find out what kind of traps might lie in wait on the other side. Cub’s maniacal laughter from somewhere in the hub above didn’t instill Impulse with much confidence either.

“Impulse!” Tango, his voice was like a wave of cool water, giving Impulse something to focus on, something to anchor his mind with and pull free of the strange haze he’d found himself in.

“Hey handsome!” Impulse smiled, turning to face his lover.

“We need to talk.” Those were words one half of any couple never wanted to hear and Impulse could feel his shoulders slumping. He found himself frantically trying to think of what he could have possibly done to upset Tango but he came up empty handed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, worried he might have done something, that didn’t seem to be the case however.

“Someone trapped my portal! This demise stuff is going too far, especially with Cub and Jevin running around just, slinging traps everywhere .” Tango half ranted, the light hearted streak keeping Tango from sounding angry.

“It… seems like maybe we should step in and put a stop to this.” Impulse admitted, brows knitting with concern.

“I agree completely.” Tango said with a sweeping motion of his arm. “I found a safe portal, come on, before Cub finds it.”

Impulse nodded, catching Tango’s hand then letting his beloved drag him along. Once they’d passed through to the pirate district he let go so they could both take to the air. He flew alongside Tango, the familiar view coming into sight soon enough. It had changed a bit over recent days though, there was a tower now with a twisting outer shell. Impulse couldn’t wait to see exactly what Tango was up to with that, he hadn’t asked, wanting to be surprised by that creative mind of Tango’s. Swooping down through the opening in the middle was a bit trippy now, with the spiralling colors.

He followed Tango’s glide to the storage section of his base, already hearing the clicking of a broken redstone contraption. Impulse frowned, creeping up to the portal with Tango.

“Sounds like it’s already been tripped.” He noted, trying to crane his neck enough to see the ceiling in front of the portal frame.

“Yeah, but what if it’s a decoy for a deadman’s switch.” Tango pointed out.

“That would be really devious. We can’t just leave it though.” Impulse reminded, looking back to his lover.

“I know!” Tango said, throwing his hands in the air before going over to one of the chests and pulling a pair of shears from it. He returned to the portal’s small space and took a steadying breath. “The red wire or the green one?”

“Uh… Tango?”

“I don’t know which one to cut!”

“There’s only one!”

“Oh.” Tango laughed and without further warning cut the single tripwire. Immediately the clicking stopped. Impulse braced himself for a moment, half expecting something to explode but nothing did and he let out a breath of relief.

“That wasn’t too bad.” Impulse admitted, watching as Tango stepped into the room fully to pull the faceplate off of the dispenser.

“Yep, it’s empty. Probably a pigman or something triggered it. Which is really lucky since I probably wouldn’t have noticed that wire without all the racket.” Tango said thoughtfully, putting the faceplate back on.

“I wonder how many hermits have already been caught in this kind of trap.” Impulse pondered, worried.

“I don’t know but we’re the professionals now so it’s up to us to put a stop to this.” Tango stated firmly.

“You’re right. Let’s do this.” Impulse agreed, determined to chase this danger out of their home.

--

“Are these pillagers or villagers?” Zedaph asked, staring at the reliefs carved into the stone walls of the stairwell.

“It’s impossible to say without more context.” Python noted, brushing more dead foliage out of the way to try and reveal more of the engravings. The figures shown on the weather worn walls just not quite having enough details to make it clear one way or the other. There was one figure that carried a skull, carvings of a book, but so much was worn away with age it was impossible to stitch the story back together. Python glanced over to the wall Mumbo was examining, it looked much the same, if not even more faded. His eyes trailed from the wall to Grian, or rather, the Envoy of Demise. He had gone very quiet since actually entering this place, his gaze more empty than usual, it was hard to tell if he was even looking at anything.

“I don’t think there’s much here… let’s look further in.” Mumbo spoke up after a moment, turning from the wall.

“Agreed.” Python sighed, falling into step with him and tugging Grian along with them. His pace was more trance-like than it had been on the trip here and Python found himself keeping an eye on the possessed hermit to make sure he didn’t trip on the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was a long corridor, there were more carvings in the walls here but these were either words of a dead language or some sort of arcane writings. They paused to examine them but Python had never seen the symbols before and from the look of it, neither of his companions had either.

“Please…” There was a whisper and Python jumped, glancing to see where it had come from, which was evidently Grian. Mumbo was frowning at their prisoner as well, clearly not trusting this as anything but another ploy by the Envoy.

“It’s not going to work, I know you aren’t him.” Mumbo said harshly, expression pulling into one of barely contained anger. The way the possessed hermit’s gaze fell from Mumbo to the floor he might as well have slapped him. Frowning Python leaned down a bit to try and catch Grian’s gaze, his eyes still looked distant, strange, but not empty there was… fear in them.

“I’m not so sure.” Python admitted quietly, looking back to Mumbo but the redstoner had already turned his back on the scene.

“He’s just trying to distract us, there has to be answers ahead.” With that they were moving forward again, down the long ambling hallway with nothing but faded carvings that they couldn’t read. They’d walked a long way before the corridor finally started to widen, opening to a very large, very dark room. Even the torches struggled to pierce the darkness.

“Please… I don’t want to be here.” Grian spoke up again, his voice very small and just above a whisper, he did sound afraid. The others paused, looking back at him and in the torchlight he really did look miserable. Python glanced to Mumbo, gauging his cold expression and more than a little worried.

“If that’s the real Grian we can’t push him away.” Python reasoned, drawing a bit more conflict into Mumbo’s expression. This was hell for the redstoner, he could tell.

“Why not?” Mumbo asked finally, tone a little less harsh but still not anything friendly.

“I… I don’t want to be here… please don’t leave me here.” Grian muttered, sounding dazed as much as scared. The way he flinched as he spoke made it almost seem like he was being assaulted by memories that weren’t his.

“We don’t intend to. There’s no point in that.” Zedaph assured him, so far managing the most gentle tone.

Grian looked from the floor to Mumbo, managing to focus, his expression filled with pain and tears escaping his eyes. “I… I don’t remember your name but I remember loving you… Please… make it stop.”

“Make what stop?” Mumbo asked, finally sounding more himself and more than a little worried as he met Grian’s gaze, searching the other hermit’s face for clues. Python just kept glancing between them, worried but having no idea what was happening to Grian, just having the deep rooted feeling of dread that it was very bad.

“The… the worms…. Make them stop, please…. I can’t remember… much… of who I am anymore… they’re taking… eating my mind.” Grian shakily explained, looking like he struggled to put the words together, either struggling to remember them or struggling to keep focused, it was hard to say.

“W-worms? Grian what are you talking about?” Mumbo half squeaked, disturbed. Slowly Grian shook his head, as if that would chase them away, he practically swayed on his feet with the motion and Python reached out a hand to steady the hermit, concerned he was about to tip right over.

“Worms… they’re shadowy and… no… stop no I don’t… I didn’t do that … stop it… please I don’t want to remember that. Stop.” Grian said, starting to sound a little less coherent, his eyes had a faraway look to them, like he was seeing the past. “Please I don’t… I don’t want to hurt anyone please stop, stop! No… I didn’t… no… there’s so much blood… I’m sorry… I’m sorry, it wasn’t me… I’m sorry…”

“What’s happening?” Mumbo said, tone taking a demanding edge as he tried to get Grian to make some sort of sense.

“It… I’m sorry… please forgive me… I… I see my own hands doing it but it’s not me! They… they only let me remember what they want… please make it stop please. I don’t want… I don’t want to see this again… I’m so sorry, Wels…. There’s so much blood… so much… I’m sorry… please.” Grian stammered and sobbed, shaking almost violently in his wave of panic and from the sound of it, Python could guess what the Envoy had forced Grian to do. It stung, to say the least, but it was a confirmation of what he’d already feared.

Wels was dead.

“Grian, stop. It’s alright, you’re here now.” Mumbo said, reaching out to take a firm hold of the panicked builder, it seemed to be too late though, Grian was worked up into a real mess and his words became incomprehensible. It was then that Python noticed a line of red leaking from Grian’s ear.

“Mumbo, he’s bleeding.” No sooner had Python spoken up did Grian suddenly fall silent and collapse. Mumbo managed to catch him, wrapping his arms around the seemingly now unconscious hermit.

“What… is happening to him?” Mumbo asked quietly, disturbed and afraid.

“I…. don’t know.” Python admitted softly, frowning.

--

“I like it, I like it a lot.” Cub noted as he looked around Scar’s crypt of the ripped. There was a clatter as Scar put the barbell back on its rack and sat up.

“Thanks! Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I can slack off. I’m the muscle around here.” Scar said with a smirk and Cub chuckled, not arguing.

“Not planning on setting any traps?”

“I’ll leave that up to you, I know I don’t have the brains for it.” Scar laughed.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Scar, you’re a genius in your own right.” Cub said firmly, taking a step closer to reach up and caress Scar’s cheek and Scar leaned into the touch.

“If you say so, I’ll just stick to what I do know.” Scar said as he stood, wrapping his arms around Cub and pulling him closer. Cub didn’t resist, leaning in to meet Scar’s lips. He was honestly relieved the other demised hermit didn’t find his new, vexing appearance offputting. From the way the living hermits had scrambled away, they’d clearly been afraid. Both of them were cold so Cub didn’t even notice the chill of Scar’s lips, only savoring the kiss for what it was. Part of him wished the moment could drag on forever but there was something very distinctly missing.

Iskall.

Neither of them needed to breathe but Cub found himself taking a steadying breath as Scar pulled away, slowly Cub opened his eyes to meet the half lidded gaze of Scar. A smile crossed Cub’s ghastly face and he reached up to trace a line along Scar’s chin.

“You know what we are missing right now?” Cub asked in a smooth tone, watching how Scar practically melted and tried to form a coherent answer.

“Uh… hm?” He didn’t quite manage it.

“Iskall.”

“You’re right… but he’ll hide away as long as he lives.” Scar admitted, sounding far too sad for Cub’s liking.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to bring him here, even if it means stopping his heart.” Cub practically purred.

“Then we three can be happy ever after…” Scar muttered, all but melting into Cub’s embrace.

--

“I think that’s the last of them.” Tango said in a resolute tone.

“At least all the ones we found.” Impulse agreed, leaning on the glass railing of the mall’s second level. They were standing just outside of Tango’s safety bunker shop which, looking at it now, Impulse got the distinct feeling Tango was playing with fire when he built the place. It… didn’t seem very safe. Still, he wasn’t going to bring it up or question the sanity of it, let Tango have his fun, he knew what he was doing.

“True, I bet we’ll be doing this again in the next day or two.” Tango said thoughtfully and Impulse nodded, glancing out over his and Tango’s hard work from a while back, they’d built this mall together and he loved seeing all the shops that had popped up in it. However one directly across from the safety bunker one caught his attention.

“Hey… it looks like someone’s trying to make a profit off of Demise.” Impulse noted, turning and flying over to the opposite walkway, landing just outside of the shop. Tango landed next to him not a half beat later.

“‘Deny your demise’ huh?” Tango noted, walking in to look around. There were potions and armor, for a price.

“You know, I left potions for free everywhere… as a matter of fact there’s still a barrel down there with some.” Impulse noted disapprovingly.

“Oh, there’s a book for custom orders, that has to say who's behind this.” Tango noted, opening the book on the lectern. Impulse let one of the chests of armor fall closed as he glanced over at Tango, who turned to the next page and…

Suddenly the floor exploded out from under them in a rain of carpet and signs. Impulse let out a startled cry and he heard Tango do much the same. Impulse tried to flap his wings but as he fell he found himself tangled, all the more the more he tried to escape, hopelessly ensnared in a net as they plummeted he wasn’t sure how far. It hurt, hitting the bottom, an obsidian box and TNT was raining down around them, primed to explode.

“Tango!” Impulse cried, seeing the bloody tangle of wings and net that was just out of his reach.

“Impulse!” Tango called back, sounding pained and winded. He reached back for Impulse… but… he was just too far away. Tango’s blood streaked face was the last thing Impulse saw before the world around them went blinding white with a thunderous sound. Impulse had no words to describe the pain, the overwhelming agony that washed over him before everything went dark.

--

Python glanced back at the end of the corridor where they’d set down a bed to lay Grian in. Mumbo sat on that bed with Grian’s head in his lap. Python wasn’t really comfortable leaving Mumbo as the only guard for the possessed hermit, but he couldn’t let Zedaph explore this place alone, so splitting up was really their only choice while Grian was unconscious.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand he followed Zedaph’s lead into the big, open room. The ceiling was tall enough that their torchlight couldn’t pierce the darkness to reach it, the walls were similarly well out of reach, just an empty expanse of stone floor. Occasionally they would step over long grooves cut into the stone running in one direction or another, it appeared very intentional but without being able to see it all at once it was hard to guess the purpose. Finally after what felt like ages of walking they reached a pedestal set alone in the darkness. It was empty, but just big enough to hold a book. Like the rest of the place, the pedestal was worn with age, there were purposeful grooves cut into its stone body, much like the floor, as a matter of fact they lined up with some in the floor.

“This must be where it was kept…” Zedaph noted as he examined the pedestal closer, the light from his torch dancing off the worn stone surface.

“Looks to be that way… do you think it was tied down?” Python asked, running a finger over one of the grooves, it looked deep enough to anchor a rope with.

“Maybe, but then why do these lines cut all the way into the floor? Let’s follow a couple of them.” Zedaph suggested and Python nodded his agreement, falling into step with the other hermit. They followed a line, even as it crossed others until it eventually met up with a curved line and ended into it. On the other side of that curved line were other symbols, another larger curved line on the other side of those. Wrapping that line well out of sight was more of the runes from the walls, then one more curved groove to enclose it all. With a glance to each other they started following the curved lines, away from the direction they’d come into the room so they moved deeper into it. It wasn’t long before they reached another pedestal, this one was taller and thinner with metal tines rising out of it like it was meant to be holding something.

Python crouched near the base, moving his torch near the floor where something was shattered all around. Picking up a piece and rubbing some of the soot and dirt away revealed a chunk of emerald. Standing Python handed the piece over to Zedaph.

“It looks like it was struck by lightning.” Python noted as Zedaph examined it.

“Or maybe it was used as some kind of conduit and got overloaded?” Zedaph theorized and Python nodded.

“Possible. Let’s see if there’s others, if any are still intact.” Python said and with that they continued following what was evidently a circle, soon they found another tall, thin pedestal with metal tines and shards of emerald laying around it’s base. Looking at the pieces these emeralds had been very large, nearly a block tall, neither of the hermits had ever mined an emerald that large, which added to the significance of these crystals. Following the circle around they found two more of the pedestals with shattered emeralds, none were intact but some were in large enough chunks they almost looked like they could be pieced back together. Those larger pieces Zedaph tucked into a shulker for further examination later. Finally they followed the circle back towards the entrance and here they saw that the circle nearest the corridor was worn down the worst, the grooves filled with dirt and debris that had likely blown in from outside. The circle was so badly eroded here they hadn’t noticed it at first. The runes were completely worn away here.

“So the circle is broken… and so are the emeralds. I’m willing to bet diamonds this was some sort of massive ward.” Python said, glancing around.

“That would make sense.” Mumbo noted since they were near enough for him to hear.

“How old is this book and who sealed it away?” Zedaph asked thoughtfully.

“Whoever it was clearly gave it their best effort… unfortunately time eroded their efforts. Maybe there’s more clues this place has left to give, we haven’t seen the walls of this room.” Python noted, glancing towards the entrance of the corridor, the walls on either side were dark and he headed over to the one on the right, raising his torch to it. There was more faded carvings.

“With luck something further from the entrance will be intact.” Zedaph said optimistically.

“Be careful.” Mumbo cautioned as they walked away from him, following the wall. Python kept an eye on the floor as much as the walls, pressure plates could be anywhere and could easily still work. Redstone was no new concept and while ancient places like this tended to have very rudimentary redstone they did often have it.

Silently he and Zedaph made their way along the wall, getting an idea for the actual scale of the room and it was massive. Finally they reached a corner, the next wall was just as incomprehensible as the last, as the corridor. The runes clearly seemed to have a purpose and they seemed to repeat after a while. They were clearer on this wall, less eroded by time.

“Here.” Python said, passing his torch to Zedaph, leaving the hermit to hold two and a puzzled look while Python dug in his pockets. After a moment he came up with some paper and some coal.

“Oh good idea.” Zedaph said and held the torches where Zedaph could see what he was doing. The paper was laid flat to the engravings and the coal was rubbed over its surface. Python repeated this process until he was sure he had rubbings of all of the text, he carefully kept the papers in the right order and settled them into the shulker with the shards of emerald. That done, Python took his torch back and they resumed the walk along the wall. Over and over the band of runes repeated, solidifying the idea that they were part of a ward.

The light of Mumbo’s torch was lost by the time they finally reached the wall opposite the corridor, the darkness in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. There was damage in the corner, tree roots had broken through the stone before withering and dying, leaving dried husks that almost looked like mummified arms hanging through. They followed this wall, the band of runes still existed but above it was evidence of paint. Much of it was chipped and faded but as they moved away from the damaged segment of the wall an image did start to become clear.

At about what Python guessed to be the center of the back wall there was the clearest part of a mural painted above the warding lines. It depicted a figure holding a skull and what appeared to be some magic washing off of them, raising the dead from their graves. The pigment was too faded to tell for sure if the figure was Pillager or Villager, but the shape of the figure alluded to it being one of the two. Following the wall there was more of the image to be seen.

Standing against the necromancer was an armed force, again it was impossible to guess which they were but they were armed with spears and magic of their own. The next segment showed a battle, the dead being raised to fight against their former allies. After this the mural had damage again, a large portion of it was gone but after that was the edge of what appeared to be the necromancer being killed. Then there was a book, the book appeared to be absorbing something, but the mural was too damaged to tell what. After that the paint was again too chipped and faded, leaving exactly how the book had been entombed here a mystery.

“So… a necromancer, a powerful one from the look of this, was defeated and… maybe put their soul into that book.” Python theorized.

“That’s about what I got from it.” Zedaph agreed with a nod.

“With demise raising the dead… it would make sense.” Python frowned, following the wall to the far corner but there were no more clues to be had. The remaining wall didn’t appear to have ever been painted, the warding line continuing on. There didn’t seem to be anymore secrets or clues for this tomb to give up as they followed the rest of the walls around back to the corridor.

“Did you find anything?” Mumbo asked when they returned, Grian was still unconscious.

“It looks like we’re dealing with a long dead necromancer.” Python informed.

“That would explain… a lot actually.” Mumbo frowned, not happy with the news but acknowledging it.

“We found some clues as to how it was contained, but what’s here is in no shape to be used again.” Zedaph noted.

“I’m thinking we take what we have back and see if we can get any of the others to help, Doc perhaps.” Python noted.

“You… have to…” Grian muttered, causing them all to glance at the still bound hermit in Mumbo’s lap.

“Have to what?” Mumbo asked gently, watching Grian’s face carefully.

“Kill me.”

Chapter Text

Building. He’d been so drawn to build and develop the area around the graveyard since his demise, sure Xisuma had set a couple of small traps, it wasn’t his strong suit. So instead he found himself building shops filled with things to enable his fellow Gray Skins. Steadily there were more and more of them and less and less living hermits. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt like he should be alarmed by this, be troubled by what was happening, but he simply couldn’t give those small thoughts the whole of his attention.

So instead, here he was, building away but looking to the graveyard now, it felt a bit crowded, despite not being filled yet. The activity of the Gray Skins simply required more room and that got him thinking, scheming. He was still contemplating his plan when movement caught his eye, shifting his focus outward again he saw Cub walking between the graves.

“Cub!” Xisuma called out, Cub was just the undead hermit to help with this. Of course, Cub turned when he heard his name and even Xisuma found himself a little startled by the almost glowing pits of white that made up Cub’s eyes now. He looked like he’d half transformed into a Vex, between his vexlike face and the vex gifted wings, he was a terrifying sight. Xisuma managed to shove that startlement aside as Cub approached.

“What’s going on, Xisuma?” Cub asked.

“I’m thinking this graveyard is feeling a bit cramped, don’t you? I think perhaps… we should build a proper headquarters.” Xisuma explained, bringing Cub in on his thoughts.

“Ah, you’re right.” Cub agreed, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“Somewhere we could corroborate, have meetings and perhaps list down our traps would be wise. Especially after what’s happened to Jevin.” Grimdog said as he practically materialized from the shadows nearby. Xisuma hadn’t even noticed he was there.

“Oh dear, what’s happened to Jevin now?” Xisuma asked, more concerned with that than wherever Ren had come from.

“He set off Cub’s trap in the end.” Grimdog said dryly.

“Oh, that wasn’t meant to get one of us!” Cub grumbled, facepalming with an annoyed noise. “I’ll have to reset that later.”

“So that proves it, we need to be better organized. We need a… Deadquarters, if you will.” Xisuma said, crossing his arms as he regarded the two.

“Oh I like that.” Grimdog grinned garishly.

“Perfect.” Cub agreed. “Now it’s just a question of where to build it.”

“I’ve been thinking about that and, how about we build it atop a floating island? That can be built above my phantom statue.” Xisuma suggested, motioning towards the build, though the church was between them and it.

“Works for me, I’ll get some supplies… set a few more traps and meet you over there.” Cub offered.

“Alright, I’ll get some supplies together as well and see you soon.” Xisuma nodded.

“While you two handle that I’ll remain here and make preparations as I have before. We have two new arrivals.” Grimdog said, turning towards the graves.

“Wait, we do? Who?” Xisuma asked.

“And who’s trap got them?” Cub asked eagerly.

“Tango and Impulse. It was… Impulse’s trap.” Grimdog chuckled darkly.

“Impulse’s trap? Goodness, was it a trap he set for one of us, an accident?” Xisuma asked, honestly surprised.

“No, I think his mind may have been touched the same as Grian’s. I watched him set the trap, he seemed… entranced.” Grimdog explained.

“I wonder if its song is stronger for those who’ve come close to death before.” Cub pondered.

“If that’s the case, why isn’t TFC with us yet?” Grimdog questioned.

“That is a good question… I think I’ll pay him a visit once we have the Deadquarters built.” Xisuma decided, curious how the hermit could be drawn to sign the book then wiggle away from it’s syren call. First things were first however, they couldn’t afford any further accidents among themselves.

“Let’s get to work then.” Cub said, and with that they parted ways with much work to do.

--

Mumbo didn’t want to believe his ears, he felt chilled to the core. It was a cruel joke, it had to be. He’d just been given the hope that Grian wasn’t completely lost and now… now this.

“That’s… that’s madness, you can’t be serious.” Mumbo finally stammered, breaking the silence that had followed Grian’s request.

“Listen… to me. Please. You don’t want the Envoy to win this game. I… I can’t keep this up long, there’s so little of me left to hold onto. They’re eating away at those few precious memories as we speak… I’m… I’m running out of time.” Grian insisted, his expression serious but also pained. He really did seem to be fighting with everything he had left.

“You can’t just… you can’t ask us to kill you!” Python protested, managing to voice the words Mumbo couldn’t seem to find.

“Please! You don’t understand… I can’t… Let me die me at least! I don’t want…. I don’t want to be the monster this curse is turning me into.” Grian begged, wiggling into a sitting position and turning to face Mumbo. There were tears escaping down his cheeks, adding to the intensity in his eyes. It was a stark contrast to the emptiness and madness that had occupied him for what felt like so long now.

“No… there has to be some other way.” Mumbo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart twisted painfully in his chest. He couldn’t bare this, he couldn’t fathom accepting this request.

“You’ll just become a member of the Dead Team, Grian that can’t possibly help matters.” Zedaph pointed out.

“It doesn’t matter! You aren’t listening to me… I’m losing… everything… I… I don’t want to lose what little I have left. Kill me, put a stop to this. Please, I’m begging you. I… I… I don’t remember… why were there chickens all over your base? No… stop! Stop eating my memories!” Grian shouted the last bit, shaking his head desperately.

“Mumbo…” Python said softly, sounding deeply worried but hesitant. Mumbo didn’t dare take his eyes off of Grian though, he felt he knew what the other hermit meant, the level of seriousness to his tone. With a shaky hand Mumbo drew his sword, that tremble more obvious in the gleam of the diamond tool as its edge wavered.

“Hurry… There’s so little… little left… I don’t want to lose… I want to remember meeting everyone for the first time, I want to remember falling in love with you, our first kiss… that’s all I have left and it’s fading fast. Please. Hurry.” Grian insisted, puffing his chest out, raising his chin, making sure he was vulnerable for any easy killing blow. Was that really the only memories he had left? Could this be a trap, a trick? Mumbo’s hand shook terribly, he tried to level the blade despite how sick it made him feel. He found his own eyes blurred with tears.

He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t bare to kill Grian.

“I can’t.” The redstoner whimpered, feeling the strength draining from his limbs with the weight of grief and dread.

“Please. If you really do love me, please do this.” Grian pleaded, he sounded so focused, clinging to what little he had left of himself.

“Are we really agreeing to this?” Zedaph asked and Mumbo heard as a sword was drawn, he wasn’t sure which of the other hermits it belonged to.

“No! There has to be another way!” Mumbo snapped, lowering his own sword.

“I’m going to die either way! Please... let me die as myself... don’t let who I am be eaten away!” Grian shouted, his tone so desperate, afraid.

“No! We’re not going to kill you, none of us. Grian we’ll find another way, just hold on.” Mumbo was the one pleading now, he realized, wiping tears away almost aggressively with his suit sleeve so he could see Grian’s face. What he saw there though, was not hope but devastation.

“Holding on… costs… my memories…” Grian said slowly, the intensity, the focus falling from his voice, his face slowly going slack.

“You’re still here… there has to be something.” Mumbo argued desperately.

“I can’t… hold… please.” Grian muttered, head tilting down where Mumbo couldn’t see his face anymore.

“Grian?” Mumbo asked shakily, a deep dread sinking into his bones.

“That name… who is Grian?” Grian’s voice sounded strange, small and lost.

“Don’t be absurd, it’s your name.” Mumbo said weakly, that dread biting ever deeper. Grian however, didn’t respond so Mumbo gently reached out with his free hand, resting it on Grian’s shoulder.

No response came whatsoever and Mumbo swallowed against the rising lump in his throat as he gave Grian a gentle shake but still, nothing came of it.

“Grian?” Mumbo couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice, dropping his sword to the ground he reached over to lift Grian’s head. What he saw made his blood run cold in an instant. Grian’s eyes were empty. Not quite the same as before, now it was like Grian was just… gone. Alive but dead of mind, like there was absolutely nothing inside. His face was slack, like some sort of doll. Mumbo felt daggers in his heart as he looked into those empty eyes, the void left behind by everything that made Grian, Grian being stolen away. Mumbo could feel his heart breaking as he realized exactly what he’d done… he’d doomed Grian, destroyed his last hope. By not granting his lover the death he’d begged for, he’d killed him completely.

“He’s… gone… isn’t he?” Zedaph whispered, shaken.

“I shouldn’t have hesitated…” Python muttered, voice heavy with regret and guilt.

Mumbo gently made sure the husk of the builder he’d loved so deeply was braced against the wall before he let go of it, standing and backing away. He felt sick. The guilt, the grief, rising like a tempest to twist him inside out. His hands shook as he turned away, wandering further along the corridor, though not nearly far enough to reach fresh air. He found himself leaning on the wall, bracing against it as the world spun, his legs shaking as the weight of reality crushed down on him.

“Let me die as myself.”

But he couldn’t.

“Kill me, put a stop to this.”

It was a simple request.

“If you love me, you’ll do this.”

He’d been selfish.

Mumbo didn’t know when he’d sunk to the floor, the storm in his heart was tearing him apart. “I’m sorry, Grian…”

He buried his face in his hands as sobs overtook him, the loss of all hope, the pain, the shock of seeing his lover die a different kind of death. Of knowing his refusal alone had caused such a level of destruction. His heart felt like it was being ripped to shreds, he could barely breathe, the grief threatening to strangle him and he had half a mind to let it, feeling like he deserved it.

Somewhere far away, something very distant, reached to him, a soundless song that seemed to promise solace if he gave into it. Like a graceful hand of light in the darkness. Whatever it was, he shoved it away, ignoring it. He didn’t deserve any such reprieve after what he’d just done.

--

Stress was draped over the top of a tree, her head resting on her hands as she watched False build. She supposed it made sense, the chapel in the medieval district would look more complete with an adjoining graveyard of its own. Stress half wondered if this graveyard would be at all affected by demise or if it would remain decorative.

It didn’t much matter to her though, as she mulled it over. It would be inconvenient for Rendog, but then, the hermits always landed in the graves prepared for them, so as long as False didn’t put names on the gravestones it probably wouldn’t matter. It was all conjecture though, Stress didn’t know any of this for sure. All she knew was False was adorable and she was happy to play guard dead while the other worked on this little project. She found herself silently torn again by the idea of just… dropping down and telling False how she felt, after all, False was trusting her to watch her back. Then again, Stress was dead now. That definitely threw a hamper on any sort of romantic situation, leaving the owl-winged hermit to sigh sadly, remaining silent.

A small bit of motion caught Stress’ attention and she pushed herself up, more alert, not sure what she’d seen until a block of TNT appeared from nowhere on the path behind False, it was level with the incline of the ground and a pressure plate followed. False started to take a step back to get a better look at what she was doing and panic surged through the undead hermit.

“STOP!” Stress cried out, launching herself from the tree as False froze in place. Quickly she removed the dangerous block, False turning to see what she was doing.

“Where did that come from?” False asked, surprised.

“I think we have company… they must be invisible.” Stress answered, glaring at their surroundings.

“I’ll watch my step.” False assured her, tense but not willing to go hide. Stress admired that bravery but she didn’t dare chance an adoring glance at the other hermit with danger afoot. Instead Stress scanned the area around them for any sign of movement, the sway of tall grass being walked through or the signature red of TNT in a hermit’s hand as the potion couldn’t affect held items. It wasn’t a visual cue that gave False’s would be killer away though, but an audible one. She heard the crunch of a boot in coarse dirt and spun, wings beating against the air in a violent snap, lifting her off the ground by half a block and propelling her forward with catlike speed.

Stress tackled the invisible Gray Skin and grabbed hold, digging her fingers in.

“Ow! Stress you don’t have to be so rough.” It was Cub, he sounded taken aback by her vicious treatment.

“Back off, she’s my mark.” Stress snarled quietly, keeping her voice low, however Cub just laughed at her.

“You’re not serious. You don’t have it in you to take her down.”

“Shush! Let me handle this.” Stress snapped at him harshly, she really didn’t appreciate how easily he saw right through her intentions. She wasn’t planning on killing False, quite the opposite but she’d hoped he’d believe her when she said otherwise.

“You know what? Fine. This time. You don’t demise her soon, I’ll be back.” Cub warned in a low, aggressive tone. She let him twist out of her grasp however, listening as he stormed off. With a huff Stress turned back to False, who had just… returned to building.

“Everything alright?” False asked, glancing up as Stress neared, there was a small smile that pulled at the other hermit’s lips after just a moment.

“Yeah, I ran him off.” Stress said resolutely, crossing her arms and folding her wings down against her shoulders. It was only then she realized how puffed her feathers had been.

“My hero.” False chuckled, taking a step closer to smooth the white feathers down. Stress found herself again, somewhat glad for being dead, as her cold body was incapable of blushing at the level she was sure she would be if she were alive.

“I’m not going to let Cub take you out with some cheeky TNT.” Stress assured her, letting her annoyance with her teammate show in her voice.

“The more dead, the slimmer my chances will get. Don’t break your neck looking out for me, alright?” False requested softly, her tone holding appreciation but also concern.

“I’m already dead.” Stress pointed out.

“I know, but I can look out for myself, I’d rather you not get hurt if there’s no reason.” False said firmly, wrapping Stress in a hug, to which the ice queen quickly returned, even wrapping her wings around False.

“I’ll be careful but I have your back. I suppose I’ll just return to sentry duty.” Stress said, hugging False a little tighter before letting her go, she didn’t want to freeze the hermit.

“If you want to, by no means did I mean you were required to stay. I’ll enjoy your company but if you have other things you need to do I’ll understand.” False smiled.

“I mean, what else am I going to do? Go hang out in a graveyard…. Wait.” Stress frowned, glancing around at the graveyard they were in, False laughed but Stress sighed at her own oversight.

--

He’d felt them pressing in on his mind, he’d heard the soundless voice, these spells meant to corrupt, to take over one’s mind. What that dastardly book hadn’t realized though, was that TinFoilChef was one stubborn old hermit. He wasn’t going to so easily be swayed. He’d signed up for demise fully aware of what he was getting himself into, but he wasn’t going to let his fellow hermits go through this mess alone. If they were going down they’d do so together. As he toiled away in his branch mine far, far below the surface he kept his mind set and focused, giving neither spell anything to latch onto, no memories to devour, no desires to exploit.

He’d done a lot of digging by the time he finally felt the spells relent. He finally felt alone in his own headspace, it was silent in the mine and he breathed a sigh of relief. He braced his pickaxe on his shoulder and turned around, unbothered by the tight space due to his lack of wings. In his younger years he’d have had to cut a slightly wider tunnel to accommodate those appendages, despite having the wings of a burrowing owl they’d still been a bit on the large side. Now though, with one gone entirely and the other cut short before the middle joint, what little remained of it having more scars than feathers at this point, he had little to concern himself with when mining.

The tunnel he’d cut was long, leaving quite the walk back to his main tunnel and minecart. He didn’t mind, hardly feeling weary, more so he was worried about the state of the other hermits. He hadn’t been in any shape to help or warn any of them what to expect once he’d realized what they were up against and all he could do was hope they’d fared alright. Still he didn’t let his guard down, alert to the potential for the spells to reach for him again. It seemed he’d be left in peace for now however, as it was still dead silent all around as he reached his minecart, the long cut tunnels all along the walls not offering any whisper of life or activity other than he himself. The silence only broken by the sound of the minecart once he got it rolling along the track. There was a heavy sense of loneliness that settled in as he went, the thought that up above, outside of his vault… all the other hermits might be gone.

With a shake of his head he banished that thought, not willing to believe it until he saw for himself. The hermits were clever, he was certain they could hold their own, at least for the most part. The dangerous part was if any of them did get suckered by that book’s magic, there’d be hell to pay for everyone else he had no doubt. Doc, Cub, Tango and perhaps Iskall might be some of the most dangerous and thus he hoped they were all still alive.

Eventually the cart rolled to its stopping point and he clambered out, dumping a good portion of his pack into the chest there to be sent off to the smelter. That done, he hauled himself up the ladder to check on the state of his valt, he had his hopes but he was still cautious, expecting the worst. As best he could tell as he wandered through the levels however, it was untouched. As he neared the top though, near the level of his tree farm he could hear noise above. With a frown he slowed, reducing the noise he made as he climbed free of the ladder at its very top. Across the way there was a door open to one of his storage rooms. Inside were the unmistakable oversized wings of one Joe. From the sound the other hermit was rummaging through the chests. His feathers still held a rich brown color so as far as TFC had surmised from the rules of this ‘game’ that meant he was still alive.

Silently TFC made his way to the doorway and leaned in, watching the younger hermit as he moved from one chest to the next, pausing as the sound of a growling stomach made it evident what he was looking for. The elder of the two let out a heavy sigh, the only thing he’d done so far to announce his presence and then smirked to himself as Joe nearly jumped out of his skin, flinging himself back from the chest only to crash into another.

“What are you doing here?” TFC demanded, doing his best to sound annoyed.

“I… uh… I didn’t know you still used this base.” Joe stammered, actually seeming to believe that.

“Uh, duh, where else did you think I was living?” TFC frowned, crossing his arms.

“Well, um, I thought your base was under your shop…” Joe pointed out.

“It is.” TFC confirmed flatly.

“Oh… I see.” Joe said, trying to regain his composure.

“You’re an idgit.” TFC sighed heavily and shook his head. All at once realizing his earlier thoughts on the hermits being clever was just wishful thinking and they were probably all dead by now.

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have barged in if I realized this place was part of your current base.” Joe said, looking somewhat like a cornered rabbit.

“It’s fine. Since your here you can catch me up on what’s going on out there, you hungry?” TFC asked, already knowing the answer but giving Joe the dignity of being able to answer for himself.

“Absolutely famished.” Joe admitted. TFC nodded and motioned for Joe to follow him before turning back for the ladder. Joe followed him down to the mess hall, where TFC got some food cooking.

“So tell me what’s going on out there.” TFC requested, giving Joe a sideways glance.

“Anarchy and brimstone. There are traps everywhere, not a single stone is safe to step on anymore, the skies themselves may well be trapped. The hermits are dropping like flies now. Since Jevin and Cub were brought down nowhere is safe and now that Impulse and Tango are also down I fear it’s only a matter of time before everything explodes and we are all caught in the inevitable blast. Python, Zedaph, Mumbo and Grian vanished recently, I don’t know where they’ve gone but after Wels vanished similarly I’m a bit worried they might all be lost to the ages.” Joe explained.

“That’s worse than I’d hoped. Where’s Cleo? You two are thick as thieves, it’s weird seeing you apart in times like these… she’s not…”

“Not as far as I know. We decided it was best to split up to better our chances. We’d be too busy protecting each other to properly look out for ourselves if we were together and besides, we’d be a bigger target.” Joe pointed out but TFC didn’t miss the worry in the younger hermit’s voice.

“That makes sense.” TFC sighed, not happy with the state of things, but at this point he supposed there wasn’t much he could do about it. Joe fell silent beside him, lost to his own ambling thoughts for sure. TFC didn’t break the silence, just kept an eye on the food until it was ready, plating up the meal for Joe before handing it over to him. In all honesty the other hermit looked like he might cry. “Boy, how long have you been without food?”

“Uh… a couple of days now.” Joe admitted, barely managing not to stuff his face as he spoke.

“That’s not how you survive.” TFC groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Joe didn’t immediately answer, too busy scarfing down food a little faster than was probably wise. TFC let the conversation fall while the boy ate, he was mostly concerned Joe needed more than what he’d been given so with a sigh the older Hermit got more food cooking.

“I know, I underestimated my supplies. I’ll be more careful after I head out.” Joe promised once he’d had cleaned his plate and had a moment to breathe.

“You ain’t leaving without a shulker of food young man.” TFC said sternly, giving Joe an equally stern look and leveling a wooden spoon at him.

“Yes sir.” Joe squeaked.

--

Tango woke with a start, tensed and shaken. He scanned his surroundings for the TNT that had been everywhere last he remembered but there was nothing but darkness. He was laying on his back now as well and as he slowly took stock of himself he realized he wasn’t breathing, he didn’t even have the urge to. He took a moment to let that sink in, the realization that what he remembered last… had resulted in his death. He felt more than a little scorned, not sure who’d put together something so devious, the nets…

No… 

“Why?” Tango muttered to the darkness, not sure if he should be more hurt or confused. Impulse… no Impulse had seemed just as unsuspecting, he’d been caught in the same trap.

He’d been caught in the same trap.

Tango had no desire to sit still any longer, moving to figure out where he was, quickly discerning that he was in a box… or more accurately a coffin he guessed. Suddenly there was a sense of dread that he was buried so he slammed his hands upwards to see just how much resistance the lid of his ‘final resting place’ had. To his surprise, it was none. The lid swung up and out of the way with the force applied, leaving empty night sky in its wake, tunneled by the walls of dirt of his already dug grave.

He decided not to question it, standing and pulling himself up out of his grave to look around. Waiting across from his grave, leaning on another headstone was another hermit but Tango’s unbeating heart sank as he realized it wasn’t Impulse but rather Rendog.

“How was your trip? Did you have a nice fall?” The hermit asked with a ghostly, ethereal weight to his voice, making him sound considerably more threatening but Tango found himself unamused.

“I can and will take that trident and bust it over your skull.” Tango replied in a flat, irritated tone.

“Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin.” Rendog said, losing a considerable amount of it’s ghostly edge and just sounding a bit awkward in the process.

“I may have just been double crossed and murdered by the one hermit I love and trust the most. I am in no mood for jokes.” Tango snapped, unable to shake the anger crawling up his back like a host of worms, it left him feeling like a rabid dog that would strike without warning.

“Oh, well that’s fair I suppose. I’m not sure he knows what he did though, he wasn’t quite himself putting that trap together.” Rendog smirked and Tango scowled at him.

“What did you do to him?” Tango growled, managing a bit of an ethereal and threatening edge of his own.

“I didn’t do anything, Demise however…” Rendog shrugged, letting the sentence hang as if that should answer it all.

“Where is he?” Tango demanded, some of his unbridled rage making way for deep worry, the hurt quelling at the idea Impulse hadn’t been himself.

“To your left, you woke first.” Rendog motioned at the next grave over. With one more warning glare shot Ren’s way Tango stood, taking the few steps over to the next dug up grave and kneeling to peer into it. The lid was still closed and Tango went as still as stone, watching it, waiting. He didn’t hear Rendog move behind him but neither did the other hermit speak, letting the graveyard fall to a deathly silence.

After what felt like hours but in reality had only likely been a few minutes the lid of Impulse’s coffin was pushed open from within. The state of Impulse was no pleasant sight, he still showed damage from the fall and the blast, his hands scraped and bloody, a chunk missing out of his skull. Shocked white eyes met Tango’s own, Impulse did truly look undead, with the color drained entirely from him he was a frightening sight. Tango brushed that aside though, not afraid as he was worried. The way Impulse pulled himself up and stood was shaky, off balance.

“T-ango?” Impulse sounded dazed as he spoke but reached for Tango and Tango wasted no time in catching his lover’s arm, hoisting him out of the hole. As he did so he got a look at Impulse’s wings, one looked broken, hanging limply from Impulse’s back and both were filled with holes.

“I’m right here love.” Tango assured him, finding his earlier anger melting away in Impulse’s presence. He found he really didn’t care if Impulse was responsible for their deaths, as long as Impulse still loved him that was all that mattered. Once Impulse was steadily on his feet he spoke.

“Tango… you’re hurt.” There was something strained about Impulse’s voice, like he was in pain. Tango glanced at himself though, he hadn’t felt all that bad in the coffin so he’d not taken the time to look himself over in the light, now though he could see the source of Impulse’s concern. His chest was blown open, blackened and withered organs in plain view, his bones stark white in the moonlight. Glancing to his wings he noticed they too, were damaged, filled with holes and skales ripped back to reveal bone in a few places. As best he could tell, he was just as colorless as Impulse and Ren, he wasn’t in any pain though so he just brushed it all aside.

“I’m alright, you seem a lot worse off.” Tango said, looking Impulse over with concern. He watched as, likely out of habit by now, Impulse took hold of Tango’s own hand, pulling it close and pressing it to Impulse’s chest. Tango couldn’t hold back the pained expression that filled his features.

There was no heartbeat.

“We’re not alright… we’re dead.” Impulse muttered, the realization only just settling in for him.

“Welcome to the graveyard, my Gray Skinned brothers.” Rendog said, speaking up after being quiet long enough Tango had actually forgotten he was even there. He sighed and shook his head, pulling Impulse into a hug.

“We’re dead together, that’s what matters.” He said as Impulse leaned heavily into the hug, burying his face against Tango’s shoulder and neck.

“What… what happened? I don’t understand. You were falling and there was… there was TNT…” Impulse stammered, sounding confused, lost.

“It’s over, don’t think too much about it.” Tango said soothingly, gently rubbing Impulse’s back while examining the more damaged wing. It was in rough shape, looking as if it had been dislocated but perhaps it wasn’t broken. To Tango’s relief Impulse didn’t argue, just nodded against him and let the subject drop.

“That wing looks rough, my dude… Tango, hold him still.” Rendog ordered, coming over and gently taking the wing in question into his hands. Tango held Impulse steady, and Impulse screamed in pain as it was forced back into place but as soon as the ordeal was over the undead hermit went limp in Tango’s arms. Tango kept Impulse on his feet, supporting him entirely while he recovered but once he did, he seemed better for it. Once Impulse was steady enough to stand on his own again he examined his own wings, then folded both around his shoulders.

“You okay?” Tango asked gently.

“Y-yeah… I’ll liv- well I’m dead but the pain is fading.” Impulse offered, his own voice having a hallowed ring to it.

“What’s all the commotion over here, is everything alright?” Xisuma’s voice called across the graveyard, drawing Tango’s attention towards the fallen hermit leader. Tango hadn’t seen him since Cub’s demise, it was still somewhat shocking seeing the other hermit with no color.

“It’s alright now, these two woke up a bit battered.” Rendog explained.

“Ah, well. Now that you two are awake we should probably let you in on current plans.” Xisuma said, stopping beside them.

--

“Oh wow, I check out for a bit and we’re already leaving the ruins?” The Envoy spoke suddenly, causing Mumbo to nearly jump out of his skin. He turned to face the Envoy as the other two hermits came to a stop as well, pinning the possessed hermit with glares of their own.

“You’d be wise to just hush.” Mumbo said firmly, it hurt hearing Grian’s voice, twisted like this, a monster speaking through the husk of someone he’d held so dear.

“Why, does it bother you when I speak?” The Envoy hissed, grinning wickedly. Mumbo sneered at him but turned away, resuming the trek back the way they’d come, more than ready to be as far from this place as possible. The Envoy chuckled at him darkly but Mumbo did his best to ignore it.

“You know, there was a lot of heckling when all of you arrived at your new home. Teasing me just because I was there first but didn’t have anything built yet.” The Envoy noted offhandedly. Mumbo’s heart lurched in his chest and he found himself clenching his teeth. That was one of the memories Grian had tried so hard to cling to.

“That wasn’t you, that was Grian.” Python stated sharply, sounding riled.

“I am Grian now. You should remember that.” The Envoy snapped back at him.

“You’ll never be Grian.” Mumbo stated coldly, not looking back or pausing, he just kept walking, his grip on the rope tight enough to make his already pale knuckles as white as paper. He did his best to ignore the next few remarks, focusing on anything else, like the steady improvement in the health of the flora, though the fauna was still lacking. The absence of animals left the jungle they trekked through unsettlingly quiet, making it all the harder to ignore the Envoy as his stolen voice was the only thing that filled the resulting silence.

“Can we gag him?” Zedaph requested after a bit more of the Envoy’s taunting.

“Oooh and what else do you want to do to me? I’m already tied up and helpless.” The Envoy purred lustfully.

“Sounds like he’d like that too much.” Python muttered with distaste.

“Maybe we should just tie him up out here somewhere and leave him.” Zedaph grumbled, despite being the one who’d earlier stated they wouldn’t leave Grian behind. Mumbo couldn’t blame him though, especially if the Grian they knew was honestly and truly gone.

“You guys are so mean, honestly… I just wanted to bring a fun game to everyone and you lot get all serious. Really you should have just signed up and played along, we can all still be friends. I’ll forgive you all for this.” The Envoy said, matching Grian’s normal, if somewhat pouting, tone and cadence.

“Stop.” Mumbo said, spinning on his heel and almost causing The Envoy to stumble right into him.

“I’m serious!” The Envoy protested, still trying to play some innocent card he did not have.

“Stop pretending to be the real Grian, the original Grian. You aren’t him, you never will be.” Mumbo said firmly, long tired of this game the Envoy was tormenting them with.

“What’s so wrong about pretending? Even if just for a little while, you’d have your Grian back.” The Envoy said, leaning into Mumbo’s space, close enough to kiss. In all honesty, there was a part of Mumbo that wanted to give into the offer, to just pretend that everything was fine, that nothing horrible had happened. To pretend life was normal again.

He couldn’t do that though, he’d just be playing into the Envoy’s hand if he did, he knew that, as well as it being an insult to the real Grian’s memory… He couldn’t just… let all that had happened be pushed aside so selfishly…

“I remember what your lips feel like against mine, I miss it Mumbo. The way they trembled that first time, oh it was adorable.” The Envoy continued, still holding a cadence similar to Grian’s but there was an underlying, taunting edge to it. It was just enough to keep Mumbo’s mind aware of what he was talking to, despite the weight of grief desperate to cling to any hope.

“I… I could consider it, if you stop demise.” Mumbo said after a moment, his tone level, hiding any expectations he had one way or another though part of him dared to hope that it might be possible.

“Ha! No.” The Envoy said with a sharp, demeaning laugh. That wicked expression was firmly back in place.

“So there’s absolutely no way you’ll stop this? Nothing you would rather have?” Mumbo questioned, struggling to keep his voice level against the pain in his chest.

“Nothing at all. You should have signed up when you had the chance, we could be having so much fun right now. That’s what I would have rathered. There is no stopping Demise, it will carry on as it’s meant to.” The Envoy purred, twisting Grian’s voice to something dark and unsettling.

“Then you leave me no choice. I should have done this when Grian asked.” Mumbo said, fighting against the sick, self loathing feeling rising inside his very soul as he steadied himself for what had to be done.

“Oh, and what’s that?” The Envoy teased but the look on his face changed fast as Mumbo plunged his sword through Grian’s chest. A look of shock filled the features of the Envoy. With a snarl the Envoy forced himself a step closer, pushing the sword deeper in the process until it was buried up to its hilt so he could hiss in Mumbo’s face. “This… changes nothing.”

“You won’t win… at least I could grant Grian that much.” Mumbo said, his voice hitching slightly and Grian’s possessed, rage twisted face blurring behind a wall of tears. As he blinked to try and clear those tears from his sight, sending them cascading down his face. Mumbo caught a change in Grian’s expression, his eyes weren’t empty, his expression held no rage. He opened his mouth to speak again but blood gurgled forth instead, he choked unable to speak, his lips trembling. Not empty, not angry, Mumbo realized it was peace he saw in Grian’s eyes, it was Grian looking back at him. All too quickly though, that faded, everything faded from those dark eyes as the life left his body, its strength stolen away as blood spilled onto the floor. Mumbo watched in silent shock, Grian’s body falling backwards, slipping off the sword, leaving the aqua surface stained red. Not a beat later Grian’s body broke into black ash, smoldering at its edges until it was entirely burned away, leaving nothing but the puddle of blood behind.

“Well… that escalated quickly.” Grimdog’s voice cut in, caught between ghostly and shocked. Mumbo glanced towards that voice, confused as to how Ren had suddenly appeared from nowhere. His expression was unreadable though, giving no answers. Just as quickly as Ren had caught Mumbo’s attention, that attention faltered. Mumbo found himself consumed in a whirlwind of grief all over again. He hadn’t realized just how much it would hurt to kill even what seemed to be a possessed husk. That last second though, that peace, the message lost in blood, that had been Grian. What had that brief moment cost the builder? Was he freed or truly lost? Mumbo had no answer but one thing was for sure, as Rendog’s presence proved. Be it Grian, or the Envoy, he might be dead, but he wasn’t gone.

As Mumbo sank to his knees, as sobs overtook him, as his heart threatened to collapse on itself from the cruelty of fate all over again… Mumbo was left unsure if he’d made things better… or much much worse.

Chapter Text

TinFoilChef huffed a sigh as Joe left, he’d made sure the hermit had plenty of food this time and warned him to be careful but because the eccentric hermit was too antsy to sit still there was no convincing him to just bunker down somewhere safe. Once Joe was gone TFC set about trapping the main entrance, making sure it would be rather fatal for any Gray Skins to stumble into. If what Joe had said was true TFC didn’t have high hopes for his friends to make it through this.

With little else left to occupy his thoughts and a bit of Joe’s antsiness having brushed off on the hermit, he made his way back down to the mines. It was quiet that far down below ground and he found his mind wandering, worrying. The low rumble of the minecart on its tracks was familiar enough not to be all that distracting but once he was able to put pick to stone again he found some level of peace from his worries and thoughts. It was soothing to him, even if it was hard work it was at least something he could do. Something he could control, something he had full say in. He wasn’t sure how long he’d mined for by the time he decided he’d done enough but looking back down the new tunnel he could easily guess it at a few hours at least.

Returning to his minecart yet again nothing was amiss, the familiar rolling sound soon reverbated off the mine walls as he returned along the very, very long track back. He was getting fairly near when he noticed the tunnel had changed ahead and instantly he was drawn from his thoughts about what might be going on above ground. There was a wall of cobble ahead, interrupting the track and generally just walling off the tunnel. Instantly he was suspicious, especially since he’d been the only one in his base when he’d decided to come down here.

Going up to the cobble wall and putting his ear to it he could hear the low groans of many zombies. With a sigh he turned down the nearest tunnel, going a few blocks in before digging through the wall to the tunnel next to it. Looking back towards the main tunnel the opening here was also blocked by cobble. He knocked out the top block and looked into what was now essentially a room. It was filled with zombies, much like he’d suspected. Those nearest caught sight of him and made their way towards him to attack, not that they could over the barrier of a block, the certainly tried though.

Taking a step back and drawing out a bow he took aim and started mowing the zombies down. One after another the zombies fell until what he could see of the room appeared to be clear. He removed the remaining cobble from his path and drew his sword, advancing into the room. It still had a few zombies but he drew them into the tunnel where they were forced into single file and those two he took down. In all honesty the host of mindless undead had stood no chance against the stubborn and experienced hermit.

Stepping out of the tunnel this time he found it empty and silent finally, with an irritated grumble under his breath he set to clearing the cobble. He blocked the tunnel the zombies appeared to have funneled in from then with his sword in hand he climbed the ladder to the rest of his base, ready to face what other traps might lie in wait.

As he searched through his vault however he found no more traps, instead what he found was the talented armorstand creations of what had to be Cleo’s doing. Speaking of, he realized she was fidgeting with one as he came into the artificial park. Sword still in hand he approached, finding zombies not far from the resident zombie hermit didn’t feel like much of a stretch to assume she was behind it.

“Hey!” He said sharply, causing her to jump and spin, a sword in her hand instantly.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” She said sharply but TFC was immediately distracted by a very obvious detail.

“You… aren’t a zombie.” He said, his face scrunching up in confusion as he stared Cleo down.

“Uh… no, I couldn’t properly play Demise if I was already dead.” She explained.

“I see, so the horde of zombies in the mine wasn’t your doing?”

“What? No! I’ve been up here putting together this gift for you.” She said, motioning to the creations she’d made.

“This had to have taken you quite a bit of time.” He affirmed, putting his sword away. She let out a sigh and sheathed her sword as well.

“I figured this would be the safest place to hide out for demise but if you’re getting trapped then maybe not…” She said thoughtfully, looking concerned.

“Considering who’s dead, nowhere is going to be safe. You’re welcome to hide out here for a while if you want though.” TFC assured her.

“Thanks, I was hoping these and a bit of a game with them would be enough for you to let me stay.” She admitted.

“I won’t argue it… you know, it’s funny. I can see why you and Joe are so close.” He chuckled, amused by what he’d just realized.

“What do you mean?” She questioned.

“You two have entirely different thought processes yet you end up in the same place or coming to the same conclusion. Joe showed up here yesterday half starved and if he’d have stuck around you’d have caught him.” TFC explained.

“Oh, I suppose that makes sense.” She agreed thoughtfully.

--

It was strange, the way that pain had morphed into a steady numbness so intense it made his ears ring. Mumbo couldn’t quite feel his chest, his mind spinning in bleak circles to the point even his thoughts felt like they’d gone numb. The others with him took to the air, even the dead one, and he found himself following without much thought.

He could hear them talking but his mind couldn’t focus on anything said, he heard his name but couldn’t muster much more than a half hearted mumble in reply. Even then, he didn’t hear whatever was said to him. There was sound but his mind just couldn’t make sense of any of it. Their faces were filled with concern but he didn’t have enough emotional capacity left to even care. He wasn’t sure he’d ever care about anything ever again.

Logically the trip back should be faster, since they were flying now but Mumbo couldn’t tell, his perception of time was skewed. Everything felt like a blur, like a fog had seeped into his mind so thick his thoughts were drowning before they could reach him. There was only the numbness and the murky awareness.

He could tell they stopped at some point to rest, landing on a little island, but he didn’t really care, laying down with no real will to ever move again. Food was presented to him but he couldn’t find the will to bother with it, letting it go cold. Even their dead companion seemed concerned but Mumbo just didn’t care. He couldn’t even make sense of Rendog’s presence, it might have been unnerving if he’d had enough will to give a damn about his own well being.

Sleep never came that night, there was only the crackling of the campfire and the memory of what he’d been forced to do. The peace in Grian’s eyes as he died did little to bring Mumbo comfort. Now the redstoner was beginning to question if that had even been real, or if he’d misjudged what he’d seen. It was easy to see sad betrayal instead, as Grian might not have remembered his own request and that twisted Mumbo’s heart into a hopeless tangle of knots.

Eventually the sun came, bringing motion to the camp again and before long they were back to the air. He could hear the others talking but he registered even less of it, at this point just going with the flow without direction. The miserable weight felt like it could pull him right to the bottom of the ocean and he couldn’t argue deserving to drown. He wanted nothing more than for this all to end and him to wake up and find it had all been a nightmare. He wanted Demise to have never happened, for Grian to still be Grian and still be alive. If he hadn’t been so lost in the numbness and misery he might have just started screaming in frustration.

Familiar sights started cropping up into view and Mumbo was oblivious to what plans the others had made, glancing at them he realized Rendog wasn’t with them anymore. The Gray Skin had to have broken off and gone somewhere else at some point, but that didn’t really matter. Without a word to his companions, Mumbo angled off to his own base. He didn’t intend for them to follow him but as he set down on the floor in the middle of the giant sphere he heard them land to either side behind him.

“Mumbo, are you going to be alright?” Python asked, there was a level of understanding in his voice. It was just enough to remind Mumbo that Wels was likely gone and Python had to be hurting too… but Python hadn’t been the one to end his lover’s life either.

“I just… need to rest.” Mumbo muttered back finally, not looking at either. With that he wandered away from them, crawling into his bed without so much as kicking his shoes off. The blanket pulled over his head didn’t chase the painful facts from his mind, didn’t alleviate the fog that gripped his mind or the pain that wavered into numbness in his heart. Mumbo was at the end of his rope, he just hid from the world, waiting for the ability to process any of it to return.

---

For someone who knew next to nothing about maps, Tango figured he’d done quite well. He stepped back from the large map on the floor, his hands on his hips as he admired his own work. The map room and the riddles to go along with it were finished, as was the sneaky trap beneath the maps. With this done, he decided to go check and see how everything else was going, see if anyone needed any help before he started on the next room he’d agreed to do.

The hall was eerily dark and he loved it, making his way along the red carpet fully aware of where every trap was planned to be, making them easy to avoid. Even traps that weren’t set or primed yet, he made sure he was in the habit of avoiding where they would be. At the end of the hall he could see into the armory where Jevin was working. The design of the room was simple and straightforward, clean and direct. Much as Tango would expect from the hermit, the room would serve its purpose and that’s all they needed.

It wasn’t Jevin that Tango was looking for though, it was the room just to the right of the armory held the hermit he was seeking. Tango leaned on the archway, looking into the room Impulse was working on, he appeared to be nearly done as well. There was quite a bit of detail to the little storage room, Tango appreciated the use of lava behind the chests on the back wall, it was ominous. At the moment though, Impulse was spreading spiderwebs around for an abandoned look.

“Looking good, handsome, but not half as good as you.” Tango remarked finally, once Impulse paused to look his work over. Impulse turned, smiling.

“Thank you, I’m pretty happy with it, I think.” Impulse said and started to say something more but paused when a note block sounded above them. Tango glanced up, not that there was anything to see aside from ceiling but the sound came again. Someone, was tuning them for a song from the sound of it.

“Guess Cubby’s up to something on the second floor.” Tango noted, looking back to Impulse.

“Sounds like it, it’ll be cool to see whatever it is when he’s done.” Impulse grinned, seeming almost giddy.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Jevin cut in as he walked by, drawing Tango’s attention.

“Where are you off to?”

“I have a certain living hermit to hunt down.” Jevin said, looking back with a devious grin. “I might just scare him for now but don’t be surprised to see Joe’s grave fill in.”

“Awesome, have fun.” Tango laughed, turning back to Impulse who was fiddling with a dispenser. It appeared the intention was to leave it empty, just something to leave any invading warmbloods on edge. Tango took the few steps down into the storage room and wrapped Impulse in a hug, kissing the other redstoner on the neck.

“Love you too, handsome.” Impulse muttered turning in Tango’s arms to face him.

“I’m glad we’re here together. None of this being dead thing would be any fun without you.” Tango noted, resting his head against Impulse’s.

“I agree… I still wish I knew what happened, all I really remember clearly is being terrified I was going to lose you. Seeing you battered and bloody and showered in TNT…” He shuddered. “I didn’t even realize I was just as dead a hermit.”

“It was terrifying, but now we don’t have to worry about death anymore. We are death.” Tango said with a dark chuckle.

“You’re right, we’re here together… that’s what matters.” Impulse said softly, still troubled, so Tango decided to chase that away by smooching his lover. Impulse relaxed, returning the kiss and seemed to gratefully accept the distraction from his own thoughts. Tango wished he could drag the moment on forever, or take it to the next level, however there was still a lot of work to be done. Much sooner than he wanted to he found himself pulling away.

“Now, we’ve got some warmbloods to torment.” Tango said with a wicked grin and Impulse nodded, seeming to come down from cloud nine rather slowly.

“Yeah… yeah, actually that gives me some ideas…”  Impulse said thoughtfully, glancing at the hallway.

“Let’s get some more traps set.” Tango agreed, releasing Impulse so he could follow the draw of inspiration and fell into step beside him. As they headed down the hall, another member of the dead team arrived, carrying an armload of shulkers. Scar turned down the hall to the same wing Tango and Impulse were headed before pausing to put some of the shulkers on the wall.

“Here you go guys, more supplies!” Scar said cheerfully, still carrying a few more shulkers.

“Thanks man, you’re the best.” Tango said cheerfully.

“No problem!” Scar assured him and headed for the stairs, when he spoke again the call was in a singsong tone. “Oh Cub! I’ve got redstone, and cake!”

Tango chuckled and turned his attention to the next room he’d plotted out to take and Impulse headed off to build his dungeon. The next few hours were spent tirelessly toiling away in the Deadquarters. Once one set of rooms were done they’d move on to more, working with Xisuma and Cub as well, they were making an amazing amount of headway in a short time with their teamwork.

As Tango and Impulse got the last few beds of the trapped barracks into place Cub approached.

“Hey Tango, I think we can go ahead and invite some of the living team for a visit. I was also thinking about checking some of my traps, you want to come along?” Cub asked and Tango glanced to Impulse, not wanting to just up and abandon him in the middle of a project even if they were nearly done.

“Go for it, I’ve got this handled. You ought to set a few traps of your own while you’re out.” Impulse encouraged cheerfully.

“Alright, I’ll find you when I get back.” Tango smiled, giving Impulse a quick but not teasing kiss before heading out with Cub. In all honesty he was curious to see what the Vex had been up to when not working on the Deadquarters.

--

So many dead and with each death False had returned to the graveyard with a new bundle of flowers. She might have been the most well informed living hermit about who was and wasn’t alive in this dastardly game now. It weighed heavily on her, now back in the medieval district, toiling away on the build that would act as a new entrance to the mines below. Mines that Wels dug quite some time ago, the thought leaving her to glance in the direction of his house. It sat quiet, feeling almost vacant.

It was, she supposed.

She shook the depressing thought away and started down the spiralling wooden path, working on the railing as she went. She was glad to have Stress watching her back, Cub had been hunting her she was fairly sure but he seemed to be the only one. Not that the fact brought much comfort, he was clever and she had to watch her step, if he set a well thought out trap she’d have no hope of escaping it she was sure. However, he wasn’t going to sneak up behind her and shove her off of a ledge or anything like that with Stress around.

With the railing in place the quarry shaft was pretty much finished. She made her way back up, looking to Stress as she walked the path opposite of where the ice queen was sitting. Frost crept down the cut stone wall of the shaft under where Stress was seated, cascading across the grass around her likely as well. False’s heart felt all the heavier as she regarded Stress, steadily False made her way back up but her thoughts didn’t get any lighter. The reality that her friends were dying, suffering around her, that Stress was already on the other side of the grave.

False had been clinging to what little positives there were, doing the things she could do but as this continued she felt a level of despair creeping in on her like the long shadows cast by the setting sun. There didn’t seem to be a way of stopping demise, she knew some of the others were looking but as this continued she had a hard time holding out hope. Even then, if they did find a way to stop it, what would become of the undead hermits it created. Her eyes fell to Stress once more as she exited the mine, walking around the hole to the hermit she didn’t dare admit she loved. What would become of Stress and the others? Would they die? If that was the case… she’d rather not stop it, she didn’t want to lose Stress, even if they were forever caught in limbo and perhaps that was selfish.

“False?” Stress’ voice broke through the swirling thoughts with a worried tone so False gave her a smile, closing her eyes in the hopes of hiding the turmoil building within her.

“Yeah?” She did her best to sound cheerful, not wanting Stress to worry.

“Are you alright?” Stress asked calmly, she didn’t sound like she was falling for False’s act. With a sigh False let it go, meeting Stress’ gaze.

“I’m just worried about everyone.” She admitted finally. Stress stood, wrapping her arms and then her fluffy, feathered wings around False. False didn’t mind the chill, all but burying herself in that kind embrace.

“Me too.” Stress whispered.

--

Joe hadn’t been out of TFC’s bunker long before he felt like he was being watched. He skirted through the market district on edge, not wanting to be caught in a trap but feeling too vulnerable in the air just yet. He planned to slip through and escape out over the ocean but the closer to the water he got the more uncertain he felt. He found himself looking over his shoulder all too often, watching the ground under his feet and moving far too slow.

He made his way around one building only to find the floor coated in pressure plates, they were everywhere ahead. He had choices here, either finding another way around, taking to the air or braking the pressure plates to create a path. At the moment he wasn’t sure which was the wisest, he might be getting funneled, but then again if he took to the air he might shot down or trigger some other trap. The only thing he knew for sure was that standing still was detrimental to his health so he decided to double back and pick another path… only to come face to face with Jevin.

The colorless and battered state of the other hermit was more than a little unsettling. Joe did his best to hide that though, thinking fast.

“Oh hey Jevin, ol’ buddy ol’ pal, fancy running into you here.” Joe said with as much normalcy as he could manage, watching Jevin’s face carefully but that gelatinous vistage gave nothing away.

“Yeah… fancy that.” Jevin said a little slower than necessary, drawing the words out eerily as he took a rather jerky step forward. Joe took an unintentional step back, a chill running up his spine. “I have something for you, Joe.”

“O-oh? You do? Well that’s really kind…” Joe said, trying his best to keep his voice steady, he wasn’t having a lot of luck.

“Sure is, it’s really special… I think you’re going to like it.” Jevin added, advancing another step.

“And what would it be?” Joe asked, not sure he really wanted to know, there was no more room to back up without hitting the pressure plates behind him.

“Death.” Jevin answered in a cold tone, drawing his sword with unexpected speed and as close as he was just the motion would have sliced Joe’s chest open had he not thrown himself back.

Of course this meant Joe landed on the aforementioned pressure plates. Nothing happened immediately so scrambling fast Joe got to his feet and kicked off into the air, flying up and away with less care than he would have preferred. His wingbeats were haphazard and he was in more of a panic than he’d be proud to admit. Joe could hear Jevin laughing behind him, too close to still be on the ground and that in turn quickened Joe’s heart in the most uncomfortable way.

Several strong wingbeats had Joe leveled out only blocks off the ground and dodging buildings in an almost reckless fashion. He made it out over the water though, only then daring to climb higher into the air. His massive wings worked far harder than he’d normally pushed them to bring him up as fast as possible. Once he’d leveled off he dared to look back only to see Jevin still hot on his heels, a little further back but still too close for comfort.

Mind racing Joe gave his wings several more mighty flaps, doing his best to hit speeds out of Jevin’s range. Ahead Joe spotted Grian’s base and a plan formulated in Joe’s mind, he just had to hope there were no traps set for instigative builder. With Jevin still somehow gaining on him, Joe flew out over the base of concrete and glass. As soon as he was over the top entrance he folded his wings and dropped into a dive. He gracefully fell past the multiple floors head first, unable to open his wings to break the descent until he reached the main room because the open rings were meant for Grian’s wingspan and didn’t accommodate his own, larger wingspan.

This in turn meant that there was no way he could slow down enough to keep from crashing after that fall even with those large wings, he’d simply been going too fast. Even trying to loop the room wasn’t enough and Joe quickly ended up a tangled mess among the chests and shulkers that made up Grian’s ‘storage system’ so to speak. Rolling off of a chest Joe wasted no time digging an invisibility potion from his pockets and downing it. No sooner had he vanished from sight did Jevin reach the main room, drifting down to the floor slowly as he’d had plenty of time to slow down floors above.

Joe held his breath, going as still as Jevin’s likely unbeating heart. Joe’s own heart was pounding so hard he wasn’t sure how the grayscale hermit didn’t hear it but after glancing around the room Jevin stepped through the nether portal. Joe didn’t dare breathe until he was sure Jevin was gone, at which point his lungs were burning a bit. He felt light headed and slid off the chest’s he’d been laying on. He took just a moment to catch his breath and calm down as he laid on the concrete floor.

He knew he couldn’t stay, he knew his invisibility wouldn’t last and that Jevin could return any second but for just a moment Joe had to wonder if the cause of his demise wouldn’t be himself. Pushing that thought aside he pulled himself up, stepping over shulkers and chests alike out to the center of the room. With a cautious glance back at the nether portal Joe kicked off into the air, timing his wingbeats carefully to take him out one of the vertical entrances of Grian’s base without brushing the walls with his wingtips. Circling out and away from the base as he rose into the air Joe angled back towards the market district. Not because he had a deathwish but because he had set up a hiding place there, with any luck it was still secure.

Joe flew a bit slower, keeping alert all around, ahead for traps, behind for any sign of the dead hunting him. Nothing reared its head to snap him from the sky and he was able to land on the head of the statue of Hermity in peace. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being on edge, glancing around once more before slipping through the not so hidden entrance to the ‘bunker’ he’d prepared some time ago. He’d barely made his way down the scaffolding when he noticed the place wasn’t as he’d left it.

There was redstone strewn all about the glass floor, levers, buttons, some things running into the walls and some seeming absolutely useless. Unnerved and feeling entirely unsafe Joe quickly made his way across the floor with a few glances around to see just how bad it was, mindful of anything that could trigger anything. Aside from buttons and levers though, there wasn’t anything. Not that he could tell at least but the place was clearly compromised so he slipped out the other exit, unfurling his wings as he fell he glided away. With no real idea what to do he took to the air and flew well out over the ocean, away from bases or heavily trafficked areas. His wings were sore from the chase with Jevin but there was no time to rest.

His only hope was to become so lost he didn’t even know where he was. First though, there was something very important he had to do.

--

He was still somewhere dark though it wasn’t the same as the empty void of unconsciousness. This was more solid, he wasn’t floating, he could feel board under his wings, which he was laying on. The space was cramped so he couldn’t really move much. He found himself just laying there, unsure of much of anything, everything was a haze. Snippets of memories drifted through his mind, shrouded and distorted, figures he felt he should know but the more he tried to focus on them the less he could discern.

He couldn’t remember his own name, he couldn’t remember his life, but he could tell he wasn’t alive any longer. He did vaguely remember a book, its wishes for him but it made little sense with no context. There were things he could remember, he realized as he combed through his own mind, bits of redstone knowledge, pieces of the land he had lived in. Block palettes and various rules of building, facts of existence that anyone would know but it was all clean. There was nothing personal to any of it, he might as well have had a book for a brain. Everything of who he was, everything that would have made him a person was just…

Out of his reach.

He was dragged from his thoughts by a scraping noise above. It was muffled but steadily became less so, drawing nearer and nearer. It wasn’t long at all before he heard the sound of a shovel head scratching wood, then silence. He’d almost drifted back to his thoughts again when he heard voices above. They seemed familiar yet just as distorted as his memories, leaving them impossible to latch onto, impossible to use as any kind of anchor to find any sort of truth.

“How long before he’s awake you think?”

“I’m not sure. I would think by now he would be but it doesn’t look like he’s made any attempt to get out on his own.”

“Maybe the distance affected him too, I mean he demised really far away from what you said.”

“He did, it was a really long and honestly awkward flight.”

“I can only imagine, all those hermits we aren’t allowed to touch.”

He got the feeling the owners of those voices were waiting on him, not that he had any idea why. The thought crossed his mind that they might have answers, or at least some idea of the direction he should take his newfound unlife. With no reason against it he pushed upwards, pushing the lid to his coffin open.

Two faces peered down the hole at him, one was entirely void of color, wearing a hood and sunglasses, his expression wasn’t very easy to read. The other was also drained of color all aside from his eyes, an intense red so stark they almost glowed. There was something about the two looking down at him, he felt like they might have been some of the distorted figures from his memories, yet at the same time they were wrong so he was left unsure yet again.

“Well that answers that.” The red eyed one noted while the other reached down into the grave, an offer up and out.

“Glad to see you awake, brother.” The one offering a hand out said, causing the builder’s mind to swim in confusion. Still he stood as he tried to decide what to ask first, taking the offered hand.

“We’re brothers?” Was what he settled on. The other looked back at him with raised eyebrows a moment before they vanished back behind the shades.

“Uh… well no, it’s just an expression I use for my friends. You’re my friend Grian.” He said, his voice steadily getting less ghostly as he spoke, it felt more familiar but his head hurt trying to place it, in combination with that name. That name stirred lots of memories but they were all hazy, blurry and veiled, he couldn’t sort through them.

“That name… why is it familiar?” He asked, cringing against the headache it had brought on trying to decipher his memories.

“It’s… it’s yours, uh, are you okay my dude?” The other asked in concern.

“He does not look okay.” The red eyed one pointed out.

“Grian… is my name… but I don’t remember… I don’t remember…” He muttered, clutching his head, closing his eyes against the pain that arose from trying desperately to remember.

“It’s the same thing that happens to Impulse when he tries to remember the trap.” The red eyed one noted.

“Grian stop, just leave the past behind, alright? Demise doesn’t want you to remember so let it go.” The other said firmly, his voice taking on that etheirial tone again.

“But… I don’t remember… I don’t remember either of you… I don’t remember…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. What’s important is that you’re here. You’re a Gray Skin like us. I’m Grimdog, this is Tango, we’re your friends, your teammates and we’re going to take down all of those filthy warmbloods out there.” Grimdog explained and looking, it was true. Grian’s skin was as gray as theirs, as he glanced between them, focusing on them in the now the pain subsided. He realized as he glanced around that they were in a graveyard which was nestled in a swamp. The most colorful thing he could see was a bouquet of flowers settled carefully on his gravestone.

“So… our purpose is to hunt the warmbloods?” Grian asked, trying to piece that together with what little he remembered of Demise.

“Yes. There are graves waiting to be filled.” Grimdog said with a darkly amused tone.

“I’m guessing False will be one of the last we bring over to our side though. She, unlike most of the others, has respect for us.” Tango explained, pointing to the colorful bundle of flowers.

“I see… I can focus on another target.” Grian said, not even sure who False was and not daring to focus on the familiarity of any of their names.

“Come with us, we have a headquarters just over there. We can discuss plans inside.” Grimdog suggested, motioning for Grian to follow so he complied.

--

How long had he been hiding in this hole? At this point Iskall wasn’t sure anymore. What he was sure of was how low his food supply was getting. He knew he couldn’t hide here forever but… after whatever had happened to Cub he was well aware nowhere would be safe. Iskall had caught only a glimpse of what Demise had twisted Cub into and while Iskall had no clue what happened to his other lover he was fairly certain he didn’t want to. Either way, Iskall had made a hasty retreat from the market district after seeing that ghostly visage, luckily Cub hadn’t seen him to follow him. At least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t, now that he was considering leaving the safety of this little burrow. Would he remove the block at the entrance just to come face to face with an observer? Cub was more than clever with redstone in his own right and Iskall really didn’t want to face that level of genius during demise.

With a steadying breath he removed the few blocks between him and the outside world. To his luck there was no trap waiting on him, allowing him to step out of the mountainside unscathed. He carefully settled the stone and grass back into place, securely hiding his hiding place in case he needed it again. Looking out across the market district from his vantage point and from up here all looked peaceful. It was quiet….

Too quiet.

There wasn’t a single soul around, living or dead, the market district was empty, void of activity and something about it was more chilling to him in that moment than he’d have realized possible. It gave a desolate feeling, like he was the only one left. He tried to shake the feeling aside but it was persistent as his eyes drifted from one shop to the next. Finally he stepped off the ledge and spread his wings, gliding out over the stock exchange courtyard. Even as he crossed over the market district he found he was still alone, no sign of anyone having been to any of the shops recently from what he could see. Glancing back at Sahara that quickly changed. There was a big blue pillar with yellow letters down it reading “Idea” and Iskall scowled.

Just as he thought to turn around he crashed into something in the air, it caught his wing near his shoulder. The pain was sharp, stunning and he found himself falling. With a few quick beats of his wings he managed to level out enough to glide to safety. He touched down in front of iTrade, landing heavily on the outer edge of the carpet. No sooner was his weight on it did the entire inside of the carpet explode, showering down with signs into a pool of lava.

Iskall stared down at the trap, blinking slowly as his brain caught up to what had just happened, to what he’d narrowly missed falling into. Quietly he just accepted it for what it was, how his luck had just saved his life. Ignoring the faint glow of redstone ore radiating through the carpet he was standing on he turned his attention to his wing. There were shards of glass caught in his scales, a long slice on the arm of his wing and blood dribbling down from the cut. Removing little bits of glass and tossing them into the conveniently placed lava to his left he found a larger shard stabbed into the wound. It was difficult to get a hold of and painful to pull free, making it apparent the wound was worse beneath his scales than it looked.

Folding his wings carefully, Iskall took a glance around, the portal only a few steps away made his blood run cold. That’s the portal Scar should have stepped out of, safe and sound… but that’s not what happened and the memory stung. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to shake that pain, to focus but instead he only saw the look on Scar’s face, the expression of someone accepting their fate, wishing only love to those they left behind. It was the pain in his wing and the ominous bubbling of lava that pulled him from his thoughts before they could spiral into the despair hiding just below the surface of his heart.

Clearing the thoughts away with a shake of his head, he carefully turned and made his way to Sahara. Picking his way across grass and shrubs he avoided the normal pathways in hopes of avoiding sneaky traps. He wasn’t sure just how far his luck alone would carry him and he wasn’t going to tempt fate. It was slow going with how on edge he was but finally he stood before the behemoth of a redstone creation he shared with Grian and Mumbo. He was worried about both but didn’t let his thoughts wander, he had to stay focused. He was also standing before the blue pillar, at the base of which were three armor stands. Each wore a mask, marking them as Bdubs, Keralis and… Xisuma.

Iskall decided to investigate that thing after treating his wing, heading into the building and making his way up to the office. He even went so far as to use the elevator he’d built ages ago, not wanting to worsen the wound on his wing.

Something instantly felt off as he stepped into the office, the very air to the room was tense and it put him even more on edge as he crept in. A sweep of the room revealed no one was there but himself, he wasn’t sure if that should make him more or less unsettled. Trying his best to brush it off he focused on getting out first aid supplies, going to sit in his chair while he patched up his wing. It wasn’t pleasant cleaning the wound himself but once it was treated and covered he felt a bit better about it. It still hurt though and he wasn’t sure how safe it would be to fly with it, he really wasn’t in the mood for demising to a dumb decision.

Picking up the supplies to put them away, he noticed a set of deep gouges in the glass table, leaning closer he could see the marks looked like they’d been left by a trident. Something had definitely happened and whatever it was he’d missed out on it completely. Now, though, he found himself all the more worried about Mumbo and Grian, after all they were the only ones who should have been in here.

Glancing between the bandage on his wing and the gouges in the table he was caught between his worry for his friends and the logic of self preservation by staying out of whatever was happening.

--

Wels’ sword sung through the air in smooth, practiced movements, the disciplined Knight flowing through the dance of a warrior. There were no enemies present to fight, only a pair of foxes wrestling and yipping a stone’s throw away. Still Wels was well aware of the threats that Demise still posed, he wasn’t going to let his lack of a wing slow him down, he wasn’t going to let this change in balance become a disadvantage. So through drills the stalwart Knight went, the familiar movements offering his mind a level of calm that only building could rival.

High above him, atop a tower of glass with a widening and widening platform atop it was Doc. Wels wasn’t certain what the good doctor was up to but he trusted that whatever redstone madness the other hermit was up to would have a good purpose. While Wels did know a bit about redstone and was happy to learn more he had quickly realized that whatever Doc was doing was experimental and untested. The Knight wasn’t sure if he’d factor into Doc’s plans either, or what his next move should be once he was confident in his battle capabilities again.

“Wels!” The voice was one the Knight knew well and he spun to a stop, spinning his sword with a roll of his wrist to scheath the blade. Looking in the direction of the shout he saw Python landing lightly on the runway nearby, wasp wings going still as soon as his feet were on the ground. The other builder had an expression of shock and reluctant hope. “Is that really you?”

“It really is, I didn’t die.” Wels assured him, walking up to the edge of the landing strip. Python looked relieved to the point of tears and his voice apparently gave out on him with the way his lips moved but only a squeak came forth. Wels guessed Python had been bottling grief and heartache rather than expressing it since Wels had been assumed dead. It was easy enough to read in the other builder and Wels held his arms out invitingly. Python all but fell into Wels’ awaiting embrace and Wels hugged the hermit he loved tightly.

“I’d lost hope…” Python finally managed.

“Oh come on, you know I’m not that easy to bring down.” Wels offered, actually surprised to some degree.

“The Envoy said he ripped you apart and left you to bleed to death.” Python explained, sounding miserable at the thought.

“Oh… wait, who is the Envoy?”

“The Envoy is what Demise twisted Grian into. It admitted it wasn’t Grian anymore… and… when Grian did have a moment of clarity he used it to beg for death.” Python said heavily.

“I see… That makes a lot of sense honestly.” Wels said with a heavy sigh, gently rubbing Python’s back. Python started to say something more but Wels heard as the word was cut short by a gasp.

“Your… wing.”

“It’s alright, I’ve already accepted it. Now I know who did it and I know it wasn’t something Grian did willingly.” Wels explained, more concerned about his friends. “What happened to Grian?”

“The spell took him… and then Mumbo killed him.” Python informed and Wels shook his head before resting it against Python’s.

“That’s not good. I’m glad you at least made it back safely. I’ve missed you so much.” Wels said and Python leaned back, moving just enough to look Wels in the eye.

“I thought I’d never see you again. I think between the two of us you saw more danger recently.” Python pointed out, to which Wels shrugged.

“I’m here to protect, you know that. You knew that when we got together.” Wels reminded.

“That’s not going to make it hurt any less if I do lose you, I love you.” Python said softly.

“I love you too, I’m not going to go down without a fight, I won’t leave you if I have a choice.” Wels promised, leaning in and kissing Python to which Python respond passionately. All at once it became very clear just how relieved the other hermit was that Wels was alive. Wels matched that passion without an ounce of hesitation, letting all his troubles fall away in that moment to savor the very motion of his lover’s lips.

It was Python that pulled away first, needing air and even as focused as he’d been on the kiss Wels hadn’t forgotten where they were. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, this wasn’t the place or time to take this moment to an amorous level.

“Python… Were you here looking for Doc?” Wels asked softly.

“I, what?” Python blinked, trying to pull his brain back together. Wels had to bite back a laugh, glad he could still have that kind of mind scattering effect.

“You thought I was dead, I know you weren’t here for me.” Wels reminded.

“Oh! Right, I needed to bring the information gathered at the Demise Book’s tomb to Doc and see if he could recreate the binds that held it before.” Python explained and Wels nodded, pointing up at the now larger glass platform.

“He’s up there. Don’t ask me I have no idea what he’s building.”

--

Stress watched as False built, admiring the imagination and skill of the other, the crane was nearly finished now. She watched as False picked away at some of the details, making it look even better than it had.

“Finished.” False said, turning with a smile, settling her pickaxe against her shoulder.

“It’s perfect!” Stress complimented, really that was how she felt about all of False’s builds and it was difficult not to be over enthusiastic.

“Thanks! Alright now… let’s see, I have some supplies over here…” False said, turning away and heading past the wagon laden with ore to the stack of chests and shulkers she’d left off to the side. Stress hopped up from her spot lounging on the beacon to stay close. However as Stress rounded the crane she saw False open a shulker, there was the click of redstone and False suddenly scrambling.

“False!” Before Stress could do more than shout, TNT detonated and False vanished from sight. “FALSE!”

Stress dashed to the new hole in the ground left by the blast, looking around in a panic when she heard a muffled voice from under the ground behind her.

“I’m alright.” It was False, and with a sigh of relief Stress turned, digging away the dirt above False and helping her out of the hole. She didn’t look much worse for wear but Stress did notice a bruise forming on the side of False’s face, likely from where she’d hit the ground.

“These traps are getting out of hand.” Stress muttered and gently reached a hand up to place over the bruise, figuring the cold she radiated might help. From False’s reaction she seemed to be right on that note.

“It’s only going to get worse.” False muttered, sounding less than hopeful.

“I… I know.” Stress sighed, wanting to argue the point but realizing she couldn’t that False was exactly right. False reached up, gently taking her hand.

“You’re going to get caught in one of these if you keep sticking so close.” False said quietly, worried, more for Stress than herself.

“I don’t care.” Stress said firmly, squaring her shoulders.

“Thanks… at least I know I won’t die alone.” False said, laughing at the end but Stress could tell it was a strained attempt at humor. That there was an edge to her words but Stress couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what was meant.

False fell silent after that and Stress really didn’t have anything to follow so she let the silence carry on. They remained that way for a while, Stress’ hand still gently laid to False’s face like an ice pack until the living hermit could stand the cold no longer. Finally she pulled Stress’ hand away, giving Stress an appreciative smile.

“Thanks. I better patch this hole before I move on to my next project though.” She explained, turning towards the mess the TNT had left.

“I can help with this much.” Stress offered, taking dirt and torches to the damaged area. Once the area was looking back the way it should False dusted off her hands and heaved a sigh.

“Alright… back to what I was trying to do. I was thinking either a market or a stable, but this area feels a bit small for a market now.” False said, walking towards the andesite pillar with a sign atop mentioning as much.

“I think a stables would look nice… I can provide some horses if you need.” Stress offered.

“Oh that would be fantastic, thank you!” False smiled brightly, taking her pick up in her hand and looking that pillar over. All too quickly that smile fell from False’s face again.

“What’s the matter?”

“Just thinking… oh, I forgot that shulker I needed thanks to that explosion, would you mind?” False asked and Stress nodded, smiling. She bounced off to get it. Just as she was passing the cart though motion caught her attention. Glancing up she spotted Rendog standing atop the ore loaded into said cart. Stress’ blood ran cold, she knew exactly what that meant.

“FALSE!” She screeched, spinning on her heel. She turned just in time to see False trying to take to the air, an observer having been hidden under the bottom block of andesite. There was no chance to escape however, the resulting blast sent Stress flying back and she hadn’t been anywhere near as close as False had. She hit the ground, blinded, ears ringing and feeling dirt shower down on her, despite all this the only thing on Stress’ mind was False.

As the ringing subsided and her eyes adjusted back to the level of light around her Stress found Grimdog knelt beside her, he was talking but she was only just starting to make out what he was saying.

“... alight? Stress? Talk to me Stress.”

“You… You can’t have her.” Stress said, already feeling tears freezing to her face.

“It’s too late Stress and you know I have no control over this.” Grimdog pointed out, his tone wasn’t cold but it was firm, leaving no room for argument.

“No…” Stress muttered quietly, heart aching as she was forced to just accept reality as it was.

“Let’s head back home, she’ll wake before you know it.” Grimdog suggested, his tone much more gentle this time. She nodded her agreement, her heart heavy. With that, though, she was pulled to her feet and she started to fall into step beside the Reaper of Demise. However, no more than a few steps had been taken before a pair of voices caught her ears and she spun, attention sharp and wish for revenge bubbling up like a blind rage.

--

New traps set. Challenges to investigate the Deadquarters issued. Old traps were mostly checked. Tango flew alongside Cub as they made their way to the Medieval district to check the last couple traps he’d set. Cub landed in a tree and Tango landed beside him, mindful of any weak branches that might send him careening down to the ground.

“Looks like she’s working in the area, perfect, we might get to see it go off.” Cub said, keeping his voice low even though it had an excited edge. Cub motioned for Tango to follow so he did, staying low and following the convex quietly. They swoop-de-swooped down to the wall, landing softly enough neither False nor Stress heard. Quiet as death itself, Tango followed Cub along the wall until they reached a spot the savvy businessman was satisfied with. Considering it was Cub’s trap and Tango didn’t know exactly where it was or what it did he was just going to trust his friend and keep his head down. Laying down on the wall and peering over the railing they were far less noticeable, Tango dared think they blended right in with the gray stone.

Below Stress and False were talking, False going over to an andesite pillar then talking to Stress again. They were just slightly too far away for Tango to hear what was being said but it didn’t matter, they weren’t here to spy on them. Stress headed off and then Grimdog appeared and Tango smirked, knowing that meant Cub’s trap was about to work. He glanced back to False, seeing her mine the pillar, an observer underneath. Stress screamed but that was quickly lost in the blast as the ground erupted in noise and light. The shockwave was enough to dislodge him and Cub from the wall, sending them flying back.

Tango hit the river bank with a thud amid a shower of dirt. Once the ringing subsided and he could see again he glanced over to see Cub seeming to recover as well.

“Think ya’ used enough TNT there, Cub?” Tango questioned, doing his best old west outlaw impression. Cub laughed, standing and dusting himself off.

“Only if False demised.”

“I really doubt she survived that!” Tango pointed out, hopping up and dusting off, he noticed little tiny bits of iron among the dirt he shook to the floor.

“Me either but let’s check, see how much damage that did as well.” Cub said, taking to the air to land back up on the wall and Tango was right behind him, a powerful beat of his wings carrying him up to land beside the Vex.

There was a massive crater below, the wall damaged in a few places.

“Oh dang, look at that, it vaporized her beacon! I’ll have to replace that but… Yeah, I’d say that got her.” Cub said, sounding entirely proud of himself, pleased with the results. Tango was just instantly sure he never ever wanted to cross Cub for any reason. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind though he saw someone aiming to do exactly that as, with a screech, Stress appeared from nowhere, tackled Cub and pinned him down.

“You! It was you!” She snarled, hardly seeming anything herself and Tango could see even from his angle that her eyes had gone entirely white. Ice was coating Cub from where she held him down, pinning him more securely in place.

“I warned you! I gave you the chance to take her down first!” Cub shot back sharply, not backing down.

“I didn’t want her to die… I’m going to-” She was saying, raising one hand for a strike but Tango dared to cut in, to give her pause.

“Stress. Don’t.” He kept his tone sharp, drawing her attention.

“Stay out of this.” She growled at him.

“No. This is pointless, it will bring you no satisfaction to kill the already dead.” Tango pointed out, squaring his shoulders and sounding as immovable as he could.

“Besides… now you can finally just tell False what you’ve been keeping to yourself.” Cub added, it took effort for him to talk as he seemed half frozen now. Still, what he said caught Stress off guard and she backed off, standing and letting him go as eyes returned to mostly normal.

“What? No… don’t say such things, there’s no point in bringing that up with her.” Stress stammered, startled. As she spoke Grimdog joined them on the wall, glancing between the three of them to try and discern what was going on.

“Seriously Stress, I’ve seen the way False looks at you when you’re not looking. I think you should just tell her how you feel.” Tango stated, his own stance and tone relaxing considerably and he watched the surprise on her face shift to conflict as she considered what he’d said.

“Plus now you two are on the same team, there’s nothing to get in your way.” Grimdog added, having caught on.

“I… I need to think about this…” Stress said, a conflicted mess. With one more glare shot Cub’s way she jumped off the wall, her wings giving a powerful beat to carry her up and away.

“Well… I need to prepare for False’s awakening, either of you two heading back to the graveyard?” Grimdog asked.

“I’m going to fix this wall and then handle  a few things at Concorp, I’ll be back after that.” Cub said, breaking free of the quickly melting ice.

“I think I’ve seen enough chaos for one day, I'll give you a hand.” Tango offered Grimdog who nodded. With few words more Tango joined Grimdog on the trek back and helped get things ready for when False joined them proper.

Chapter Text

Xisuma walked freely through TinFoilChef’s vault, invisible and carrying enough potions to stay that way for quite a while. He watched his prey, his two new targets. While he’d had the draw to build he felt like he’d exhausted that creativity and that left only Demise’s pull to trap and kill. He was patient, silently observing what the others were doing. He’d even seen Cub sneak in late in the night and set a handful of drop traps of his own. It was at least enough Xisuma knew to watch out for them but for now he watched Cleo, keeping track of her more closely since she didn’t go very many places within the vault.

Finally he saw her slip into a secret room and a smirk pulled at the undead hermit leader’s lips. He waited like a spectre of death biding its time. As he was, he supposed. Once Cleo left the secret room again he waited for her to leave the immediate area and then broke in, a quick glance showing a half dozen shulkers and a bed. None of that mattered beyond the confirmation she’d be back in here at some point. He set down the invitation to visit Idea that he’d had Bdubs write. Neither of his living business partners were particularly pleased with this particular plot but that also mattered very little to Xisuma. All that mattered right now was bringing more hermits onto the dead team.

Drinking another invisibility potion before going in search of where Cleo had gone, it didn’t cross Xisuma’s mind how unsettling this was. It didn’t occur to him just how dastardly his plans were. All he saw was the opportunity to bring his friends into this side of existence, through all of the book’s whispering he’d come to believe wholeheartedly that death was the answer. As soon as Cleo was done in one area and had moved on, Xisuma swooped in to see how he could possibly trap it. She added a new lectern and that was his chance. Figuring out what was where on floors beneath he set about creating a drop trap with the one thing he hadn't seen Cub use in his.

Lava.

--

He had no idea how long he’d been laying there, he wasn’t sure if he’d slept or not, he wasn’t sure anymore what was nightmare and what was torturous thoughts. What he did know was he couldn’t stand staying where he was any longer. He was restless, he needed to move almost as if the functioning level of his brain was tied to the pace of his feet. It was with a long, deep sigh that Mumbo finally cast his blanket off and sat up.

It was night, a quick glance of his base showed it to be about how he left it, aside from the snoring Zedaph crashed in a bed nearby. Mumbo realized he had to have really worried his friends but with a glance at his own hands he felt like he could feel the blood on them despite them being visibly clean. He felt like the worry of his friends was undeserved, it was a sickening thought that bringing any of them down might have been easier .

He shook his head, trying to chase those haunting thoughts away but it still left his skin crawling. Quite suddenly he couldn’t stand being in his base, his home wasn’t home. It felt hollow, desolate, disconnected from him. All at once he wanted to be literally anywhere else, anywhere at all, so he stood. Quietly he slipped away, not wanting to wake Zedaph, not wanting to be followed. He didn’t know where he was going to go but his feet started moving as if by will of their own.

Mumbo crossed his base with only his own thoughts to accompany him, not that they were good company anymore. In the silence of the night, the stillness of his base his thoughts only berated him. They tore into him, reminded him he was the monster who killed his own lover. The pain was something that wouldn’t fade, that he couldn’t push away but perhaps he’d just adjust to. He at least didn’t feel numb anymore, the pain was almost preferable to that.

Now on the other side of his base he dared open a chest, the one where he stored redstone dust. The faint thought that maybe fiddling with a redstone device, wherever he went, would help get his mind back in order. However, looking in at the red, glimmering powder that filled the wooden box brought forth the memory of Grian’s death. He saw the blood dribbling down from Grian’s lips, spilling out over the diamond blade and Mumbo stumbled back, unable to stomach the sight.

The sound of the chest falling closed was what startled him from the terrible memory, what drew him back to the present. With an uneasy huff he clasped his hands together then pressed them to his chest, trying to will the shaking away. It wasn’t working but he started moving again, walking out to the edge of his base and taking to the air on agitated wings. Forcing them into a rhythmic motion almost seemed to help steady the rest of his body. The feeling of the wind on his face, the light chill of the night air, the salty brine of the sea below brought some level of consistency. With a deep breath he rose up into the air, looking ahead though, he might as well have been stabbed in his own heart.

Sitting silently in the ocean before him was the impressive white tower that was Grian’s base. It was a massive structure that held a certain dynamic silhouette against the sky and sea around it. It was confident, unapologetically impressive, like its creator had been. The key words there being had been and that thought brought another wave of agony through Mumbo’s heart. The memory of Grian begging for death, of watching his mind practically drain away… it was chilling. All that made Grian who he was had been lost, leaving a shell behind. The only real testaments to Grian’s prowess left behind were the builds he’d graced the world with.

More on autopilot than any actual thought to where he was going or what he was doing he swooped down into Grian’s base, landing on the main floor beside Grian’s bed. The memories of the thousand times he’d done that before, dropping in to see what Grian was doing or to interrupt the builder’s sleep for the sake of cuddles. Of all the times he’d swooped in and tackled Grian and showered him in kisses, teased him relentlessly in retribution for some prank or another.

All the jokes, the laughter shared.

All the kisses, the tender moments.

Mumbo’s chest felt like it would implode, burning, constricting pain making it anguish just to breathe. His knees buckled under the weight of it all and he collapsed against the empty, cold bed.

Oh, how it smelled of Grian.

That was the tipping point, the last the redstoner could handle. He broke down in tears, falling apart as sobs overtook him. Never in his life had he cried so hard, never in his life had he had the reason or been in such pain as he was now. His shoulders shook, tears flowed down his face unabated as he gave into the despair and the misery that promised to consume him. His heart felt like it was twisting in on itself, collapsing. Mumbo sobbed and cried until there were no more tears to shed, leaving him to slowly calm down, for his breathing to slowly steady. Long, slow breaths brought a shift that almost made him feel light headed. His heart felt like a years old and overused dustrag washed a few times too many, threadbare and threatening to fall apart.

He felt tired, drained but also restless yet again, unable to stay in this place any longer. He pushed himself up to his unsteady feet, his vision blurry and burning. He rubbed his eyes but it helped very little, still he stumbled away, walking to the nether portal, the one thing in this cold, vacant base to utter a single sound.

The nether was a stark difference, hot, stifling. Distant cries of ghasts and the ever present bubbling of lava somewhere below the hub. Those were the things that were normal, the things his weary mind expected. What wasn’t was the click of a pressure plate. His mind had no time to register before he was splattered in a harming potion. He let out a startled cry and stumbled forward, trying to shake as much of the burning liquid off as he could before it soaked in. It had mostly gotten his arm but one side of his face had not been spared the splatter.

It was an intense pain but as the initial shock wore off it settled in among the symphony of pain he was already suffering. He got back to his feet, not even remembering falling down but not surprised. With no passion or pride to the motions his wings carried him up off the floor, into the air and to the second level. He was walking as soon as his feet touched the ground, carrying him along a familiar path, autopilot yet again. He took the familiar walk out to the portal that would take him to his farms.

However as he rounded the last corner he found he wasn’t the only one in that tunnel. Standing on the ice, staring off at nothing at all was…

… 

… 

Grian .

--

Doc had been at work non-stop with his current idea, leaving Wels and the foxes on the ground as he’d climbed ever higher with redstone and glass. There was no guarantee this would work but he had to at least try . As he placed glass in a platform spiralling out from his tower of redstone he noticed as a certain red winged hermit flew into Area 77. A small, sad smile cracked Doc’s lips, the sight below was sweet, but it drew attention back to his own wounds. With a shake of his head he got back to work but sooner than he would have expected he heard the hum of Python’s wings before the Hermit landed beside Doc.

Curious Doc turned to the visitor, he really expected Python to spend longer catching up with Wels, but then, looking out across his own work he realized he might have been grinding away longer than he thought. Python was setting down a shulker and had a very serious expression.

“We found where the demise book came from, found all of this there.” Python explained. Curious Doc opened the shulker, revealing broken emeralds and a stack of charcoal rubbings.

“I see… This definitely appears to have been part of something…”

“As best as me and Zedaph could tell it was some sort of massive, ancient warding spell.” Python informed.

“I see. I will give this a look over and see if there’s anything to be learned from it, anything we can use.” Doc assured him, picking up the shulker.

“So… What are you building?” Python asked, glancing around at the expanse of glass.

“A time rollback machine.”

“A… what?”

“This machine, once it’s finished will roll back time on the subjects inside of it. With any luck it will entirely reverse everything that’s happened to those affected by demise.” Doc explained, crossing his arms as he considered the build around them.

“Do you think that will work?” Python asked, sounding unsure how possible the machine really was.

“I’m hoping it will. In all honesty I don’t know for sure whether it will or not. Either way it’s better than doing nothing and waiting to see who comes to do me in.” Doc pointed out.

“True… At least we have a few leads.”

“The only problem is if I do demise some of this may get abandoned. Here.” Doc took a journal from his pocket and handed it to Python. “If anything happens to me give that to Mumbo and he can take over this project. I’ll get any notes on the ancient ward written down and kept with it.”

“Alright, hopefully Mumbo will be up to the task if it comes down to it.” Python sighed.

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“He had to kill Grian… well, he wasn’t Grian anymore.” Python explained, the gravity of his tone spoke to just how terrible things had gone.

“Damn it… I’ll do my best not to get killed.” Doc sighed, shaking his head.

--

False woke with a start, immediately finding herself trapped in a box from the way she hit all the sides around her. It was dark and she felt like her heart would be racing but it was so still . It was unnerving, the level of silence and she reached up to her own neck, pressing two fingers near her jugular, just under the jaw.

She had no pulse .

It made sense, other than an initial gasp she hadn’t felt the need to breathe either. The memory of her death came flooding back and she flinched at the pain but it was over fast. At the very least she knew what to expect, by now Grimdog should have dug the dirt away above her coffin and pushing on it, sure enough, it opened. She pushed the lid out of the way and pulled herself up to a standing position, just able to see above the grass a little. She could see something was piled all around her grave and Stress was seated nearby, not directly next to her, gauging from the level of frost to her left.

Grabbing the slightly more solid dirt that was frosted over False stepped up on the edge of her coffin looked around. Her grave was wrapped in flowers, bouquet after bouquet of varying skill was laid neatly about, it looked like every member of the dead team had left her one. Past that she saw Grimdog leaning on a headstone and following the frost she saw Stress settled against another one, reading.

“Look who’s awake.” Grimdog said, coming over and offering a hand. False took it, letting the first dead pull her from her grave. “Welcome to the dead team, False.”

“Thanks.” False said, disappointed at her demise but not at all surprised.

“Are you okay? Aside from… well, dying of course.” Stress asked, concern evident in her tone and posture.

“A little annoyed but fine.” False assured her.

“I had no idea Cub had buried that many TNT minecarts…” Stress sighed, shaking her head.

“It was bound to happen eventually, somehow.” False shrugged. “I’m more worried about the damage done.”

“Cub said he was going to patch that up.” Grimdog noted.

“Good, I was going to have some stern words for him otherwise.” False said with a nod, crossing her arms. She did notice as Grimdog subtly gave Stress a pointed look and Stress seemed to squirm under it a bit.

“Well, I’ve got a few other things to attend to, False, the Deadquarters are a bit dangerous without a guide but Impulse should be there.” Grimdog said, turning and walking away as he finished speaking, he waved at them as he vanished out of the graveyard.

“Well, that was a bit odd.” False noted, looking from where the reaper hermit had gone back to Stress, who still looked vaguely squirmy.

“Yeah, well… um.” Stress said, seeming to struggle with changing the subject.

“What’s the matter?” False asked her calmly, no hint of judgement or anything otherwise negative.

“There’s something I need to tell you and… it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.” Stress said nervously.

“Whatever it is I promise I won’t think less of you.” False said and she found herself intrigued, almost hopeful from the phrasing Stress used.

“I… False.” Stress looked up at her, Stress’ expression was serious as she cast her nerves aside. “I’m in love with you.”

“See, nothing to worry about. I feel the same about you.” False said softly, smiling warmly.

“You… really?” Stress asked, perking up. Clearly she hadn’t had her hopes up very high either.

“Really.” False said, taking a step closer so that she was in Stress’ space, their faces just inches apart. Stress shuddered, lips trembling a bit as she stumbled through the start of a few different words but couldn’t settle on any of them. False chuckled softly and leaned the rest of the way in, kissing Stress, the other hermit melting a bit before thinking to return the affection. The chill that stress produced wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable, rather it was the opposite now, False enjoyed the closeness including the cold. It seemed like a moment both had longed for, the way neither wanted to pull away and since neither needed to breathe it made it convenient to chase each other’s lips as long as they wanted. The lack of a heartbeat didn’t steal the thrill from False and in that moment there was nowhere she’d rather be, nothing she’d rather be doing.

Everything she’d been through during Demise was worth that kiss.

--

It was like a set of icy claws raked through Mumbo’s heart on seeing his boyfriend now entirely void of color. At this angle Mumbo couldn’t see into Grian’s eyes but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. The memory of those eyes going so entirely and ultimately empty haunted him. Regret and guilt bubbled up to the surface, threatening to strangle the redstoner. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there wrestling with his own thoughts before he finally moved. Mumbo didn’t even know what drew him to step over the ice path to get a better look at Grian.

The builder was staring off at nothing with a vacant look on his face, every bit as terrible as Mumbo had expected, what he hadn't predicted though, was Grian glancing down at him. Those eyes weren’t entirely empty… but there was an odd sort of distance. Grian’s brow furrowed, he looked like someone trying to place where he’d seen someone before. It settled in all too quickly that Grian recognized Mumbo but had no clue who he was. The builder’s face scrunched up as he tried to recall but then screwed up further in pain. Grian let out a little yelp before shaking his head and seeming to almost reset, looking at Mumbo like he was familiar, but unplaceable.

“I… I don’t know who you are but you’re hurt and I absolutely can’t stand it.” Grian explained in a bewildered tone but one that carried with it a heavy dose of concern. The guilt Mumbo felt increased tenfold, feeling like a knife to his throat.

“Grian…” Mumbo managed to mutter, surprised the builder was this whole… and not the Envoy either.

“That’s my name… at least that’s what Grimdog and Tango said my name was.” Grian sounded so strangely innocent and uncertain.

“They were telling you the truth.” Mumbo managed, unsure what else to say.

“Who are you though? Why does seeing you hurt… and upset… hurt so bad?” Grian asked him, frowning.

“I.. I’m Mumbo, I… we, well… I’d say I’m your boyfriend but I’m not sure I qualify for that role anymore.” Mumbo explained, his voice hitching as he did but there were no tears left to shed.

“Why? Because I’m dead?” Grian asked, confused.

“Because I killed you.” Mumbo admitted, fully owning up to his crime.

“Oh…” Grian blinked, surprised but that quickly traded for curiosity and Grian tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because… because you asked me to. But I hesitated. I hesitated and because of that you lost all of your memories. I’m sorry, Grian. I’m so sorry.” Mumbo said, absolutely remorseful. Grian lifted his head from it’s tilt, his expression hard to read for a moment before settling into one that was more familiar, one Mumbo had never expected to see again. It was a warm expression, a loving one with the subtlest hint of mischief.

“It’s alright Mumbo, I forgive you.” Grian said without an ounce of reluctance or hesitation. There was enough weight to his words for them to be genuine.

“You… but how ?” Mumbo stammered, more than shocked, his brain screeching to a halt as he tried to even fathom how he was worthy of forgiveness.

“Mumbo… I may not remember how or why. My heart may not beat, as a matter of fact, I think it’s in two pieces… but none of that matters. I still have my feelings, as confusing a jumble as they can be, as muted as they are when the call to kill comes. At the end of it all, I still love you. I don’t think anything could change that.” Grian assured, resting a hand over his own heart and the wound in his chest.

“You… Even so, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.” Mumbo admitted, still reeling, his own emotions a tangled mess.

“Mumbo…” Grian said softly, stepping down from the ice to rest his hands on the redstoner’s shoulders. He had a very serious expression, something either followed by a prank or an actually serious matter. “I don’t want to see you suffer. What’s done cannot be undone. Let it go, please.”

“Eventually…” Mumbo said noncommittally.

“Mumbo.” Grian said sternly.

“It’s… just too soon. You may not remember but I do .” Mumbo snapped then flinched, not meaning to snap at Grain.

A sort of sad acceptance settled over the builder and he wrapped Mumbo in a hug. Mumbo couldn’t help but melt into the embrace, Grian wasn’t as cold as he’d expect but then, he might have been in the nether long enough to alter that. Grian’s scent was still there but it was nearly overpowered by the smell of dirt and decay, Mumbo didn’t care. He had Grian, even if he was missing his memories… he was still Grian.

“Grian… what are you doing here?” Mumbo asked once he was able to sort through enough of his thoughts to realize how odd it was for Grian to be here if he didn’t remember anything.

“Oh, I just got hopelessly lost.” Grian admitted honestly, it sounded like he really hadn’t cared much.

“Of course you did.” Mumbo sighed.

--

She was more than a little unnerved by the invitation left in a room no one should have known about. Cleo had packed up fast and while she’d left a note behind for TFC she didn’t mention where she was going, only that she’d been found and wasn’t going to stick around to find out what the dead had planned for her. She hoped he’d find somewhere else to hide but he was stubborn and somehow she felt that would be his downfall.

Of course, she wasn’t going to chicken out either, after all, as far as she knew Bdubs was still alive and it was him asking her to visit. Before that though, since it brought her to the area she decided to slip into Hermit Land, head for the secret deed drop she and Joe had agreed upon. She didn’t know if he’d been by at all but it was a good opportunity to check. Stealthily Cleo made her way around the riverbank, not daring to walk through the games district proper. She kept alert to her surroundings, above and below. She made damn sure she wasn’t being followed, moving from one hiding space to the next and listening carefully in case they were using invisibility. Of course, even then any Gray Skin hunting her would have to make a noise for her to hear, that uncertainty put her further on edge.

Finally, she made her way to the back of the mini mansion build and broke in with her axe. She slipped through the opening and quickly placed the planks back.

“Cleo!” It was Joe’s voice but she spun fast on her heel with the axe still in hand, after all, she didn’t know if he was dead and waiting to catch her. To her relief however, there was still color to his skin, his feathers still the richest brown and his eyes still holding all the fondness for her she could ever desire. Relaxing, she put the axe away as a little flutter of her wings lifted the weight from her step and she bounced over into his waiting embrace.

“I didn’t expect to actually find you here.” She admitted, hugging him tightly, folding her wings flat against her back so he could wrap his around her. With that single little act all felt right with the world, if only just for a moment things were familiar again.

“It seems we were fated to cross, like all the glimmering stars in the night sky graced by the beauty of the moon, twice graced when reflected in your eyes. This meeting isn’t destined to last though for I am a wanted hermit and staying in any place too long is guaranteed to cut my life shorter than the fleeting breath of a picked flower.” Joe said, resting his head against hers.

“Who’s hunting you?” She asked, understanding his poetic rambling as if it was a well studied second language.

“Jevin. He’s came after me with the vengeance of a scorned lover hunting the person who burned their heart. I don’t know what I did to earn his wrath but he is a relentless and clever hunter. He has tracked me down a couple of times since our initial encounter and I worry he’ll find his way here before long.”

“Damn it… things aren’t looking good are they? I’ve been invited for a pre-opening tour of Idea.” Cleo admitted and Joe look back at her with a level of concern that almost made her reconsider her plans. Almost.

“You’re not going to go are… you are.” Joe frowned, reading her face like the page of a book.

“I’m not going to show any fear but I will be cautious don’t you worry about that. After that I plan to vanish for a while.” She explained.

“You better be alive the next time I see you.” He said firmly.

“Oh I will, I’m not easy to kill, even if I’m not a zombie. What will you do? You have to lose Jevin.”

“I will vanish into the wilderness like the ghost of yesterday, slipping through the icy grip of death like fine sand through a sieve. Once I’m nothing but a drop in the vast ocean undiscovered I will be impossible to find.” Joe promised.

“Good, but be careful.” She said, drawing a line along his jaw with her finger to lightly draw his face closer. There was no argument from the eagle winged hermit as he drifted closer with her beckon and she lifted her head to meet him, pressing her lips to his as she stood up on her toes. There was almost a desperate edge to his passion as he returned the kiss, his lips dancing with hers in perfect harmony as if it was a waltz they’d done a thousand times before but might never do again. She pressed her body against his all the harder for his intensity and relished in the tremble that incited from him. One hand pulled her tighter against him by the small of her back while his other drifted through her hair, the way he held nothing back in his kiss made her heart race and long for more. Her hands glided over his chest and out to the sides, trailing down as she had half a mind to take things that step further. After all, he was letting her lead in all this, having too much respect for her to push, she knew.

That something more wasn’t fated to be however as the sound of boards being ripped from one of the windows of the building reached them.

“Run.” Cleo breathed as their lips parted and Joe’s eyes darted from the window back to her. She gripped his shirt and pulled him around behind her, not having lost her own strength even though she wasn’t undead. “Go, I’ll buy you time.”

It was clear he wanted to argue but that slipped by as he chose to trust her.

“I love you.” He said before darting for the opposite wall and she headed for the window. There she saw the last board fall away and the one pane of glass was kicked out of place Cleo drew her axe and stood against the wall. As soon as Jevin was through the window she swung, hammer side first and clobbered Jevin over the head. The resulting squelch was unpleasant and left a streak of gray slime on her axe. For half a beat she worried that the smite enchantment would kill him despite her effort to only knock him out however the Gray Skin dropped to the floor like a shulker of gravel.

Cleo nudged the motionless hermit with her foot a few times to see if he was really out and it seemed he was. She was still going to be careful however, dragging his body out into the unfinished space with no floor. Digging up the grass then stone before dropping Jevin in the hole and covering over. She wasn’t worried about him needing to breathe because she knew he didn’t and she hoped this would be disorenting enough that Joe could properly escape.

With that handled she made her own quick escape, though she replaced the window back as it had been on her way through. Jevin being Jevin he hadn’t even picked up the removed glass and signs. With a weary look shot at the demise board Cleo took to the air and made her way towards Idea.

--

He’d been through every chest and shulker in his base, he’d adjusted some of his redstone and some of his item filters but one thing was troublingly clear. He needed more shulkers. Not only did he need more but so did Sahara and this left Iskall at an impasse. There was nothing more for him to work on, nothing more to do that was safe. There was some slightly safer things he could do… but not without more shulkers.

He debated checking in with Mumbo and Grian but with the way Grian had been acting, the damage in the Sahara office… he had a very deep foreboding feeling. With a long, deep sigh he set about trying to gear up for both the end… and any traps that he might find there. The difficult part was not knowing what to expect and he found himself very anxious. He was good at surviving, he had good luck. This was all true but right now he also had an injured wing and the end meant he needed to fly. With a heavy sigh he took another stack of ender pearls from storage and tucked them into his pack. He checked and triple checked his supplies and gear before redressing the wound on his wing, which was healing nicely. With luck he wouldn’t screw that up.

No more stalling, he was either doing this or he wasn’t and with a determined huff he headed off. Into the nether and down the long tunnel that connected his base to the hub. The trip was long enough to debate all over again how necessary this was against how bad an idea it was. He just had to hope that if there were any traps they were already tripped by someone else… as dark a thought as that was. Demise had long since stopped feeling like a game and he really wondered just how far it was going to go. What would happen at the end? Would this all just be undone? He doubted that, this felt so much more… sinister than that.

As he made his way to the center of the nether hub he thought that over. How many hermits had signed up? How many hermits might have already fallen? Would everyone stay demised after demise was over? Or would they… die? It was a troubling thought and his feet came to a stop in the center of the hub, his gaze drifting up to the blood moon in the ceiling high above, so much like the one that dominated the night sky now. It was an even more troubling thought as he realized that if the demised perished permanently after the game was over… then he’d already lost Cub and Scar for good.

He shook the thoughts aside before they could go any further, pushing the ebbing pain back with a thick wall of denial. He refused to believe that, refused to follow those dark thoughts any further, he needed to stay focused, especially right now. What he was doing was both dangerous and stupid, going to the End, alone, wounded, with traps everywhere. This was a really bad idea.

Bad idea or not, it had to be done. Iskall took to the air, his wounded wing stinging a bit but it wasn’t too bad so he didn’t give it any mind. Though once up to the second level he lighted down and let his wings rest. He walked down the appropriate tunnel, a part of his mind still trying to talk him out of doing this but he continued ignoring it.

Then he reached the tunnel to the portal that would lead to the end portal’s room. It appeared untouched, no sign of tampering at least in the nether so with a steadying breath Iskall marched his way down to the glimmering sheet of purple and let it’s magic whisk him away.

--

Doc had run out of glass blocks a few hours ago and as the sun set and the light faded he found himself just poring over everything brought from the demise tomb. The rubbings, the notes and the shards, it was all fascinating. There wasn’t enough of the dialect the runes belonged to for any hope of translation, however they were clear enough that simply using them should do. He just had to hope there wasn’t an added numerical sequence that would have warranted the size of the room they’d been found in. The number of repeats in the band of runes hadn’t been noted so for now he decided to just move on. Reading the notes that Python and Zedaph had taken gave him better insight and examining the emeralds, the state of them, it was all painting a fairly clear picture of how the wards should work.

He turned to a page past where the other two had written and jotted down his ideas of how to recreate the wards even on a smaller scale. It was all conjecture at the moment but it was more than they’d had before, it was a little light of hope. With a satisfied nod he replaced everything in the shulker and picked it up. It was dark, the shadows deep in the trees in Area 77 and he could hear the distant groan of zombies out there somewhere, milling away aimlessly. He couldn’t help but wonder if dabbling in necromancy was something that had been common of civilizations long lost, if some long lingering curse was why mindless dead appeared each night.

There were no answers to be had on that line of thought so he shook the theories aside, they weren’t important or helpful right now. It might warrant more research someday but demise was a much more pressing matter as things stood. Doc stepped off the edge of the glass platform and drifted down lightly, steadily circling the glass tower until he spotted Python and Wels by a campfire near one of the hangers. They were settled just off the runway, not disturbing anything and Doc joined them, landing near the fire and setting the shulker down where he could sit on it.

“Finally decided to take a break?” Python asked, offering a baked potato, which Doc accepted.

“Not much choice, I got as much done as I could.” Doc shrugged, not having realized just how hungry he was until food was in his hands.

“So what you’re saying is you ran out of supplies?” Wels asked, stoking the fire with a stick and getting the flames to catch a log on it’s other side.

“Mhm.” Doc hummed around the potato in his mouth, not really wanting to talk when he could eat.

“Well if it’s glass you need I’ve got you covered.” Wels said, glancing up at the structure. “I can’t really compete with the speed of concorp but I do have my own smelter, we just have to get to it.”

“Perfect.” Doc nodded and no sooner had he finished his food did he have a pair of squeaky, wiggly foxes in his lap. With a chuckle he hugged both, resting his chin on the resulting cuddly fluffs as he regarded his companions.

“They are really attached to you.” Python noted.

“Yeah they got pretty upset once you were high enough in the air.” Wels added.

“I raised them from tiny pups, they think I’m their papa.” Doc laughed, scratching Hanz behind the ears.

“Impressive, even with that tactic foxes aren’t usually that attached to people.” Wels noted.

“Not my fault others can’t figure out how to train foxes.” Doc shrugged. 

“Anyway, is glass the only thing you’re missing?” Python asked, getting the conversation back on track.

“No, not if we’re going to try to copy that ward. I’ll have to expand S4 to make room for it as well.” Doc explained.

“You intend to keep that book here?” Wels asked incredulously.

“It’s what Area 77 is for.” Doc reminded, motioning towards the hanger.

“Are you sure? It seems like maybe we should take it further away.” Wels said with concern in his voice.

“And leave it unguarded? I don’t think that’s wise. If the wards work the way I think they will it shouldn’t be a problem.” Doc assured them.

“If you’re sure.” Wels sighed.

“No offense Doc but, this place hasn’t exactly been the most secure.” Python pointed out.

“I know, but I’ve learned from what’s happened. It may just be me, Hanz and Franz now but we can handle it.” Doc said, his tone leaving no room for argument and the other two let that drop.

“So what do you need for the wards?” Python asked.

“Emeralds for one, but there are also some questions I have that can’t be answered by what we have. It’s time to visit the graveyard.” Doc explained, his tone taking a serious edge, almost sounding grim.

“Are you trying to get killed?” Wels demanded.

Doc shook his head. “I need to talk to the Grimdog, I think I’ll be able to get the information I need from him.”

“I don’t like this.” Wels said, shaking his head a little.

“There isn’t much choice.” Python sighed.

“Exactly. We have a chance here but it isn’t without risk.” Doc pointed out and Wels nodded.

“I know, I just hate that it’s come to this. It shouldn’t be dangerous to just talk to other hermits and yet that’s where we are with them so… murderous. You are one of their active targets and I can’t help but worry that it's going to be that much harder to keep you safe in the middle of their territory.” Wels voiced his concerns and Doc crossed his arms.

“I know, I’m not going in unprepared or blind. I know they want me dead, I would say demise wants you dead as well but you survived so I’m not so sure anymore.” Doc admitted.

“So we might actually not be on their radar, so to speak.” Python said thoughtfully.

“Doesn’t mean we can relax, traps won’t discriminate who is and isn’t playing this ‘game’ of Demise.” Wels reminded.

“I know.” Python sighed and then looked to Doc. “When do we head out?”

“No time like the present.” Doc said, glancing at the sky.

“I suppose they won’t be expecting us to visit at night.” Wels agreed.

Doc nodded and stood, still holding the foxes. Wels got the fire put out while Python checked gear and soon enough they were heading out. Leaving Area 77 on foot wasn’t the safest idea any of them had ever had but neither Doc nor Python were going to make Wels handle the mobs alone.

Not that Wels really needed the help, the Knight was still focused on returning to his former battle prowess so unless Doc took something out at range it rarely got close enough to be a problem. Really Wels seemed to get the drop on most of the things that stood in their way as they made the trek back to Hermitvill. Doc did notice a few moves that would have worked better with wings to add to the momentum of a strike or quickly evade. That was the thing the good doctor was keeping an eye on, taking mental notes since if the time roller didn’t work he’d be building a new wing for Wels and he wanted it to be as natural to the knight as possible.

Finally they reached the village and made their way to the nether portal, Wels having to climb the ladder on the inside while Doc waited with Python, having flown to the top. The lot of them passed through together and immediately on the other side Hanz let out a warning bark, freezing in place just in front of the portal with his attention zeroed in on the dispenser that was supposed to be for boats.

“Gunpowder.” Doc said in a dark, irritated tone. He knelt next to the dispenser and lifted its faceplate off, sure enough the redstone component was filled with TNT.

“Well that could have gone badly.” Python noted as Doc removed the explosives.

“They’re getting bolder… or perhaps lazy.” Wels said, crossing his arms.

“Either way the ice road is likely trapped, we best go on foot.” Doc noted, replacing the faceplate and standing. The other two nodded so Doc gave his foxes the order to lead, though they still stayed close, sniffing along the floor and wall as they made their way down the long corridor. The trip was long and the foxes alerted them to a couple of traps, one of which was on the ice road and the other having already been deactivated by someone else.

Finally they reached the tunnel leading to the dead district portal. This tunnel, with its open windows showing the nether just added to an ominous air that hung over the group now, an impending dread as they neared the portal. Doc picked his foxes up and stepped through the shimmering purple with no hesitation, refusing to let nerves hold him back. Soon enough he was walking up the stairs out of the skull that housed the portal, the sound of the portal spitting Wels and Python out behind him reaching his ears.

It was dark, seeming all the more gloomy for how saturated everything was, it had to have rained just recently but the sky above was clear now. For all the stars above the swamp still held a heavy darkness, as if the shadows themselves had come to life and started to grow. Glancing out towards the church and graveyard things seemed quiet, though there were more buildings out there now. The torches lighting the paths hardly seemed adequate, looking like nothing but weak candles dotted through an abandoned town.

“I have to admit, that’s impressive.” Wels said and Doc turned to see what the other hermit was talking about. Following the Knight’s gaze Doc spotted the floating island with a mansion atop it. It had a ghostly quality to it, entirely gray stone looming over them like the reapers trident about to strike them down.

“If not a bit eerie, yeah.” Python noted, eerie seemed too kind a word for the imposing building though.

“It isn’t what we are here for though, unless Ren is up there.” Doc pointed out, looking back towards the graveyard.

“You’re right.” Wels agreed. With that Doc set off for the graveyard, his companions in tow, Hanz and Franz repeating the process from before, staying alert for traps. Still the graveyard seemed relatively safe, trap wise at least.

They made their way around the church and into the graveyard proper without incident, moving slowly and staying quiet. Doc was certain the dead knew they’d arrived, he was certain they were being watched but as he glanced all around he saw no sign of anything or anyone, living or dead. It was unsettling and if he’d been alone he might have felt somewhat distanced from reality itself. There was a heavier feeling to the graveyard this time, perhaps it was the amount of open graves, or perhaps it was knowing the number of dead, either way he was unsettled.

The crypt was equally quiet and Doc motioned for his companions to wait before he descended the ladder, Hanz and Franz staring at him as he went. Doc glanced around once he reached the bottom, right away noticing a new chamber cut into the stone opposite the one Ren’s sarcophagus rested in. It gave Doc a bit of a chill to peer into the dark, unfinished room.

“Hey Devildog, you around here somewhere?” Doc called, his tone light and the new nickname having a joking ring to it.

“I’m here, what do you want?” Grimdog asked, appearing from the shadows of the unfinished room with a pickaxe braced against his shoulder.

“Information.” Doc said, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“And what pray tell, makes you think I’m going to tell you anything?”

“Nothing, but it won’t hurt to ask.” Doc said with a shrug.

“Are you so sure? The urge to drag you out into the swamp and drown you is stronger than you can realize while you draw breath.” Grimdog said darkly.

“That’s demise talking, not you. Focus.” Doc said gently, leaning on the wall and appearing to be perfectly relaxed, at least he was doing his best to appear that way.

“I’ll… try. Your heart beat is really distracting though and I really would like to silence it.” Grimdog sighed before continuing. “What is it you want to know?”

“Does the demise book have any weaknesses?” Doc asked.

“Like I could tell you even if I did know.” Ren snorted, shaking his head.

“Is there anything other than blood and souls this thing wants?”

“No, only that, only death and chaos. With every repetition of the Demise spell the book will grow stronger, stealing the life energy of those that sign its pages until its true power is unlocked. There is no stopping demise now that it has started, no weakness to exploit, no real winner. With each time the game is completed the winner or an Envoy will start it again.” Grimdog explained, giving more information than he possibly intended.

“I see… so this game is a spell, does the book have others?”

“An arsenal and a mind to use them.” Grimdog confirmed, his tone not leaving room for hope, though Doc ignored that, not willing to give up yet.

“Those spells have to be heard to work though, don’t they?” Doc asked and Grimdog seemed slightly surprised, stammering awkwardly over a few words and his voice losing it’s ghostly edge.

“Well, some of them are silent you know, just because you can’t hear it doesn’t mean it’s not in effect.” That right there confirmed exactly what Doc was suspicious of, now he just had to figure out how to put it to use.

“Hypothetically, if there were something that could contain this all mighty book… what kind of power would be needed to keep the barrier up?”

“A willing soul, one that had known the touch of love and would give their life to protect that alone.” Grimdog said quietly, as if nervous he’d be heard.

“I’m keeping to my promise.” Doc said, dropping his voice level with Ren’s and meeting his deathly gaze.

“All the more reason for you to get out of here before I lose control.” Ren practically whispered and Doc didn’t need further prompting, he was up the ladder and out of sight quickly.

“Let’s get out of here, quickly.” Doc said quietly to his companions once he returned to them and they didn’t question it, falling into step with him and the foxes. As they rounded the church, the skull housing the nether portal in sight, something else came into sight as well.

Xisuma .

The Hermit Leader stood still as death right in the middle of the path, blocking their advance. Doc felt a chill run up his spine, the foxes growled uneasily. Doc tensed, staring the undead hermit down, watching him for any move but the Gray Skin remained motionless. Deciding not to tempt fate too much he scooped up his foxes and stepped into the water, giving Xisuma a wide breadth. From the splashing he heard behind him his companions had followed suit. Doc checked over his shoulder but Xisuma was still in the same place, motionless. It was creepy, but not as threatening if he just remained there and Doc wasn’t going to argue that. They made their way out of the water and up the hill and when Doc glanced back once more and this time Xisuma was gone, no sign of where he went evident.

“They’re watching us.” Wels said quietly, snapping Doc’s attention the other way. Following Wels’ gaze once more up to the deadquarters he saw several hermits crouched in the doorway, Cub, Xisuma and Tango.

How Xisuma had gotten up there so quickly Doc had no idea, the other two were crouched to either side of the undead hermit leader, all of them entirely threatening. Xisuma lifted his hands and suddenly phantoms spilled forth from above the doorway, the angry creatures swooping down at them.

Having had enough Doc let his trident fly, killing the dangerous creatures in the air, though a couple got close, Wels diced them before they could do any killing. Still, more circled in the air, now Tango and Cub joined them, zipping by threateningly. While ducking and dodging Doc and his friends made their way back to the portal, practically diving into it to escape the dead team. The foxes now tucked in one arm whimpered and fussed as  the magic grabbed them all up, freaked out by the dead and the phantoms. Doc was trying to soothe the furry members of his party by the time he was stepping out of the portal.

“We better keep moving or they might decide to pursue.” Wels advised and Doc nodded, hurrying out of the tunnel to the next with them.

--

Cleo was still very cautious about how she picked her path, where she walked, where she flew. She avoided main paths and airways, she took the time to examine where she was going before she got there and generally was just very careful. Sure it took a lot longer to reach Idea this way and sure she got berry bush thorns caught in her socks along with spruce needles but it was worth it if she meant she got to live. She stepped out of the wilderness that bordered both Falswell and Idea, walking out onto the manicured lawn that was a stark difference from the forest floor. Cautiously her eyes swept the area looking for any threat but instead all she saw was a pair of fools chatting under the awning of the building.

Perhaps idiots was a bit harsh, she did like both of them, they were her friends… right?

The fact she was questioning where their loyalty would lie was what had her the most nervous out of all of this. It could so easily be a trap. She didn’t want it to be, she wanted to believe these two were just passionate about sharing their business venture with her. The fact that they shared this particular venture with Xisuma however, someone she could imagine they’d crumple to if he made a demand, it was enough to put her on edge. She didn’t know just how badly this ‘game’ might have corrupted Xisuma now that he was on the dead side of things but after seeing Jevin so single mindedly chasing Joe down she could only assume the worst.

So now here she stood, a comfortable smile in place that didn’t at all match the suspicious feelings within.

“Cleo! We’ve been waiting for you.” Bdubs called after spotting her, heading over to meet her and Keralis wasn’t far behind. Bdubs seemed fairly normal, the level of nerves he showed seemed reasonable for showing someone something they’d worked very hard on. It was Keralis that was just a little more telling, with his lips drawn in a thin line of concern and energy missing from his perpetually wide eyes.

“Well here I am, I’d have been here sooner but you know, cloudy with a chance of traps out here.” Cleo shrugged, she kept her posture relaxed, looking entirely at ease and unbothered.

“Man and you’re keeping a level head through all of that, I’m impressed, I really am.” Bdubs commended her.

“Bubbles, do you really think a few shabby traps and some sorry excuses for undead are going to phase her?” Keralis asked before turning to offer Cleo a warm smile, she could still see cracks in the edge of it however. “Welcome to Idea, Cleo, it’s so good to have you here.”

“Thanks, Keralis. Really though, I think it’s the living that are a bit more frightening, their intentions are much less clear.” Cleo said, casting the wide eyed hermit a pointed look but he didn’t cave, although smile fell a little.

“Oh, not us! Our intentions are crystal, we want to show you around, maybe get your opinion on some things.” Bdubs cut in, offering her a big smile as he slung an arm over Keralis’ shoulders.

“Lead on then, let’s have this tour.” Cleo said, motioning at the building.

“Right this way!” Bdubs said cheerfully, turning and heading for the door. She let them lead and stayed mindful of any place trap trickery could be hidden. The showroom seemed to be safe however and it was more than a little adorable to listen as the two gushed about each other’s work. She offered a few suggestions here and there that they seemed quite enthusiastic about and she noticed Keralis relax as they showed her around.

When it came time to head to the second floor she refused to go first but Bdubs went up without concern so she followed after. This floor, wasn’t finished clearly. The two Idea boys chattered about some of the thoughts they had for showrooms and again she offered a couple of suggestions. It would have all been quite fun if she wasn’t having to stay suspicious of them in the back of her mind. This all seemed so genuine at this point, like they really were excited to show their creations to her. She didn’t let her guard down though and again made them go first through the bubblevator. There was still no trap though and so she critiqued their warehouse, going over things the average shopper might be confused about.

It was as they neared the end of the tour that she noticed both her guides getting jittery, there were places after the checkout that weren’t to be looked at but she caught sight of unfinished walls. Up a set of stairs with just a drop after them.

“Well that’s it, this goes into the gift shop.” Bdubs stated, motioning for her to go first. “You’ve been there before, nothing suspicious.”

“Sure there isn’t.” She stated flatly, stepping to the edge and looking over, there was a hole cut into the giftshop floor that dropped into a shaft. There were wither roses and tripwires down there. Her wings fluttered into motion and she pushed off the ledge before she could be shoved, landing several blocks from the hole to glare back at the two. “I knew it ! I can’t believe you two, you tried to kill me.”

“Dang it, you weren’t supposed to look down! Keralis you were supposed to push her!” Bdubs said, quickly getting worked up, his voice sounding more panicked than angry.

“I couldn’t do it, I like Cleo.” Keralis said, putting his back to the wall and generally looking upset.

“Oh Xisuma isn’t going to like this, we’re toast.” Bdubs said, walking out of sight. Cleo sighed, stepping to the edge of the trap to look up at Keralis.

“Thanks for not pushing me… are you going to be alright?” She asked him, worried.

“I…” He stammered and a stolen glance behind her was all she needed to see to know she wasn’t out of danger yet. She spun as she felt a cold aura all to close to her, reacting faster than her would be attacker by taking hold of his waist and suplexing him into the trap. Laying on her side she watched Xisuma fall, he let out a startled cry, his wings fluttering far too late to be anything but useless. She rolled away from the hole and covered her head, the resulting explosion from the trap sending up a shower of dirt, ash and black rose petals.

“Shishwammy…” Keralis muttered once all had gone silent and she glanced up at him, Bdubs was back, peering down.

“Honestly… I think I’m more afraid of Cleo than him.” Bdubs admitted.

“As you should be. I won’t forget this.” Cleo said sharply, getting to her feet and dusting herself off.

“I’m sorry, he put us up to this, it wasn’t either of our choices.” Bdubs frowned, seeming to sink in on himself. The glare she leveled their way didn’t give them any mercy either, she made it clear she was displeased without uttering another word. After staring them both down, even though she wasn’t quite as irritated with Keralis, she turned and left.

Chapter Text

His base was quiet, quieter than he would have expected it to be so he could only assume Cleo was either asleep or had left. It didn’t really make much difference to the old miner, company was nice sometimes but it could also grow tiresome quickly. There was a reason he lived so far underground on his own. Wherever she was though, he hoped she was alright.

That thought still in mind, TFC went to head through one of the many doors in his base only for the very floor to fall out from under him. The walls of the shaft he fell into were tight and the drop was long but thanks to the enchantments on his boots he didn’t feel it more than a sharp pain in the knee. It was dark but the flash of a detonated TNT caught his attention. The old hermit laughed as the blast showered him in rock and dropped him a few blocks lower.

After all, his armor was also heavily enchanted with blast protection, making this the most ineffective trap he’d seen in a while. Slapping a torch on the wall the old hermit made his way back up with a pillar of stone, too amused to be angry. He patched the hole and then headed for the next room so he could fix the door. However he was wary enough to examine the next door before heading through it. He took the trap’s upper workings apart this time, not falling in and removed the gravel. Below was a pit of lava, small as it might have been. Now that one would have been a problem. He patched the hole and continued on his way.

At this point he was sure Cleo had either moved on or been caught up in one of these and he hoped it wasn’t the latter as he made his way into the artificial park. A glance around showed she’d had the time to change the armor stand characters again as one was missing. He took a look at the lectern for updates and sure enough there was one, saying where the character had been seen heading. The following page held a very different note though.

TFC, they’ve found me. I’m getting out of here and honestly I think you should do the same. Be careful.

-Cleo

“I’m not getting scared out of my own home.” He said stubbornly to the letter, closing the book he turned his attention to what was apparently the end of his little game with Cleo. He didn’t mind, it had been a fun distraction while it lasted. As he headed towards where the missing character should be he headed through a door without checking it first. Sure enough the floor was gone from under him and he fell. It was dark and another TNT exploded, leaving him sitting on his behind laughing so hard he couldn’t see straight.

He didn’t know who’d left these drop traps but they were comically inefficient. He repeated his same method of escape from the last time, patched the hole again and continued on. Finally reaching the area in question he stepped into the large carpeted room that was part of the overseer’s office and right away he saw what had become of the missing character. They’d been turned into a big hulking super mutant, much as he expected from his choices in the game.

Glancing around he spotted another lectern and headed over to it, reading the logs there, as that was what rounded out the story. He turned the last page and the handwriting was different, simply saying ‘your turn’ but before TFC could really process what that might mean the floor gave way under him. He fell into a large pit just deep enough he couldn’t escape, splashing into lava at the bottom. Despite the pain the stubborn old hermit roared with laughter. He wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t even angry, instead he greeted death like an old friend.

--

It was dark, it smelled of dirt and cold stone and Jevin found himself more than a little annoyed. He reached up to push his sarcophagus lid out of the way only to find it was dirt above him. From the way his head ached he guessed he must still be ‘alive’ at least as living as this state could allow. Letting out an irritated groan, Jevin dug the blocks out from above himself and climbed out of the hole. To his surprise he was still in Grian’s abandoned mansion minigame.

Jevin had no idea how long he’d been out or where Joe could have gone, so his trail on that target had effectively gone cold. He guessed it had to have been Joe who’d clobbered him, he wasn’t sure if he should be surprised or angry but settled on just letting it all go instead. Joe might have escaped… but that didn’t mean Jevin was left without a target.

Leaving the abandoned building behind Jevin took to the air and made his way to New New Hermitvill. There were streets just begging to be paved in pressure plates and levers and who was he to deny them such a pleasure?

--

Scrambling down the tunnel in the nether Wels could hear the half-panicked breathing of his companions, the ominous but distant cries of ghasts and the distorted sounds of portals as they passed them by. However there was something more, something pulling at the edges of his mind that he couldn’t quite place, it made him uneasy but he couldn’t quite ignore it either.

Glancing back it seemed like they weren’t being pursued so he slowed down. The others noticed and slowed to a stop, all of them needing to catch their breath. Running through the nether was laborious at the best of times but something about it this time made it all that much worse.

“Did you find out what you needed?” Python asked after a moment, seeming to recover.

“I found out enough.” Doc nodded, setting the foxes down for a moment.

“Alright, so what’s the next part of the plan?” Wels asked, crossing his arms.

“There are some things I need to get from the market district before we return to Area 77.” Doc explained.

“Well if that’s the case I vote we head to my house and get some rest until daylight. I don’t think trying to navigate the market district at night is wise.” Python said, putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m gonna second that notion, we all need rest.” Wels agreed and Doc nodded, seeming to have no argument for either point.

“That works for me, I’m ready when you are.” Doc said, scooping his foxes back up into his arms. With that they headed to the main hub. Wels tossing an enderpearl down to the bottom before either of the others could worry about getting him to the first level. The other two were lighting down as he teleported and together they made their way to the modern district’s portal. Luckily enough it seemed no one had trapped this one.

The trip to Python’s house was mostly uneventful, Wels cutting down a couple of mindless zombies that were wandering the streets. Doc had his foxes check Python’s door for traps but it came up clean so they headed in and Python blocked up the door behind them just for an added measure of security. Doc found an out of the way spot on the first floor to drop a bed then drop into it and Wels headed upstairs. After a moment of thought he pulled his armor off, setting it carefully out of the way.

“You know, I can’t help but feel all the more appreciative of little moments like this.” Python whispered, sitting on his bed.

“What do you mean?” Wels asked quietly, glancing up at him.

“I almost lost you.” Python reminded, his whispered tone carrying with it a great weight of pain, of dread, bringing back to the surface just how much the other hermit cared. Wels sighed, joining him on the bed and pulling Python down with him to cuddle.

“I’m not going anywhere any time soon if I have any say in it.” Wels promised yet again, his tone staying hushed. It seemed to be enough to soothe Python for now, the other hermit snuggling against Wels and getting settled. Wels wrapped an arm protectively around Python, resting his head against his lover’s and as tired as the Knight was, he quickly drifted off.

Somewhere, in the darkness as his mind spiralled into sleep he could hear the beat of a drum, or something like a drum. It was a song without melody, it droned on with purpose, a calling, a longing. It tugged at his sleeping mind but he sank further into darkness as his dreams rose to catch him.

------TW: DISMEMBERMENT------

His dreams… those were less pleasant. He found himself unable to move, paralyzed as he lay on a cold concrete floor. It was dark, he was in pain, someone was standing on him, tugging on his wing. Then he felt the bite of a blade as it dug into his skin, he tried to cry out, to protest but his voice refused to work. The blade cut deeper, rending flesh aside as hot blood ran down Wels’ back. The blade hit bone and wiggled there, scraping and scratching as the assailant searched for the joint of his shoulder in the darkness. Again Wels tried to cry out, to scream as the pain grew ever more intense but he couldn’t, his voice was silent despite the air escaping his lungs in a rush. Tears rolled down his face as that blade found its mark, burying in and forcing the joint apart with a sickening pop.

Wels’ muscles felt like they were on fire as he struggled to move, screaming at himself mentally but there was nothing he could do, his body wasn’t responding. He was trapped, pinned, doomed. Silent screams filled the darkness to never be heard, the only sound that of the blade cutting through flesh and skin, then the thud as his wing was tossed aside.

Through all of this he could hear that song, steadily growing stronger, carrying with it a light of mercy in this cruel darkness. It was a song he’d never heard before but the way it pulled at his mind seemed familiar, it was a familiarity he couldn’t place. Something about it though, he hesitated.

That hesitance cost him as he felt the blade bite into him again, the pain thrice as fierce as it dug into his other wing… it was like he was trapped here, with no hope of escape. Even as the fact that his other wing was still with him surfaced and he realized he had to be in a nightmare he couldn’t will himself awake. The sword cut and cut and cut as the song droned on, offering a single route of escape.

----End TW-----

--

Bdubs would be lying if he didn’t admit he was upset at the day’s events. Not only had Xisuma, his trusted and dear friend, wanted him to kill another hermit… he and Keralis had failed to actually do that. To make matters worse Cleo had thrown Xisuma into his own trap. The builder couldn’t shake the dread that brought him as he flew back to the village and landed on the bridge. He couldn’t even take comfort in the quality of his own builds he was so upset.

Dragging his feet, he made his way into the village only to freeze when he spotted a score of levers spread across the road around the stables. Not only did they spam the area they were all switched on . Bdubs had no idea what would happen if he removed them so for now he just left them be, continuing past cautiously. He was so focused on watching his step as a matter of fact, he almost missed the stone pressure plates paving the street of planned shops. He looked that way with a mix of annoyance and fear. He wasn’t sure who was to blame, there were too many dead hermits now but he was absolutely done, not willing to even attempt dealing with this after the day he’d already had. With a few sharp flaps of his wings he was in the air, sailing away from the village proper to his castle on the hill.

“Are you serious, here too?” He demanded at the sight before him, his castle sharing a similar fate to his hard work in the village. Pressure plates paved the inner courtyard, there was a barrel and a chest set just inside the gate as well. The space within the gate was the only one void of pressure plates and he found himself more suspicious of it because of that. So rather than land on any of the pressure plates or the open ground he managed to stick a landing right atop the chest. “Oh this is not cool…”

With an irritated huff Bdubs opened the barrel first, no sooner did he the ground in front of it opened to reveal of fall trap. ‘I knew it’ . He thought, none to happy. Inside was a handful of items including a totem from apparently Jevin from the note. Next he hopped atop the barrel and leaned down to open the chest, inside was a single book. Nothing activated or opened when he opened the chest but he still didn’t trust anything, dropping down to stand on the box’s edges to retrieve the book.

Dear Bdubs, you are hereby invited to explore the Deadquarters, challenged to face its riddles and challenges. If you can survive all four floors you will be rewarded with information on ALL of our traps. Good luck.

-Tango

Bdubs snapped the book closed, weighing his choices in his head. He knew this was likely to be a trap but at the moment his own base was a trap. If he had the reward of information then he might have a far easier time defusing the traps in his own base. Uneasy but mind made up, Bdubs took back to the air, leaving the diminished safety of his castle behind.

He didn’t waste time, cutting through the nether without slowing down. He knew if he stopped to think this over he’d probably back out but he refused. His home had been disrespected and he was determined to show the dead team what he was made of. To prove he wasn’t a coward, that he wouldn’t just hide behind Xisuma the whole way to the finish line. He could get there on his own, hopefully, if he was careful.

All too soon he was walking out of the portal to what had formerly just been known as the halloween district. Now, though, it was home to the dead. Bdubs tried not to let that fact bother him, tried not to focus on how dangerous it was here while remaining alert. He had no doubt he’d found the Deadquarters as he looked at the big gray building atop it’s floating island. It was a ghostly sight to behold and it brought a level of hesitance to his step.

Fighting back his own fear he kicked off the ground, wings working smoothly to take him up towards the building. The tall, open entrance was clearly meant to be flown into so he landed just shy of the carpet. It was dark, eerie inside, the further from the door he looked the darker it was and he didn’t like that. With his wings tensed to sling him away from any threat he started in. He only took a few steps before the floor shattered out from under him, his wings snapping to propel him into the air.

“So that’s how we’re gonna play it, huh?” He asked the empty hall before smoothly he glided over the pit of lava to land on its other side, glancing back. That had just been the entranceway and he realized the trap set the bar for what to expect. Looking around he found his choices few so he turned right and went to check that way first. At the end of the hall appeared to be an armory which he was quite suspicious of, to his right was what appeared to be a storage room. That too looked suspect but he didn’t spot any clues so he turned to go the opposite way.

Bdubs decided to go all the way to the end and work his way back, it was at this end of the hall he found himself at the top of a staircase. Peering down it was all stone brick but it was a little better lit. Slowly he descended, keeping alert for traps and clues alike. What he found instead was a wickedly laughing Impulse who was situating armor stands into torture devices. Armor stands with masks of the living hermits, Bdubs saw he wasn’t excluded from this either. A chill ran through him and the thought settled in that he might not want to let Impulse catch him, else he be replacing that armor stand.

Not admitting to himself how afraid he was, Bdubs made his way back up the stairs and ducked into the first room at the top. This appeared to be a map room and the first real clue. After really looking things over he guessed he needed to head out to the locations marked on the map. It made him uneasy, unsure of what he’d run into or find but nothing ventured was nothing gained. Besides, he’d made it this far.

--

The portal room was almost too quiet, too cold for Iskall’s liking. He shoved the foreboding feelings aside as he climbed the stairs to the portal to the end and peered into its inky black existance. Tiny pinpoints of light scattered across the inside of the portal like stray bits of glitter. It was normally a fascinating, even pretty sight. Now though, now it held a strange level of threat to him. Still, he was here for a reason and he wouldn’t be deterred just yet. Before he could talk himself out of this likely terrible idea, Iskall stepped off the edge of the stair to fall into the portal.

Click

Instantly he realized his mistake and regretted everything, he was surrounded by a ring of TNT, flashing, primed TNT. He was boxed in all around, there wasn’t enough time to mine out. It was all Iskall could do to cover his ears and crouch. Pain became all he knew for the next instant of his life, pain, ringing, a metallic taste in his mouth. It was slow but steady as his senses returned to him, the pain didn’t really fade but he was able to think through it. He was laying on the obsidian platform, the smell of burned gunpowder permeated the air. Slowly Iskall propped himself up on his elbows, noting the small puddle of blood his face had been resting in. He wasn’t sure where all he was bleeding from, all of the pain muddling together but he could taste blood in his mouth.

Slowly, shakily, he got back to his feet and started staggering towards the main island. The two block wide path between the island and the platform didn’t feel wide enough. He felt too much like he’d topple right off the side as his legs wobbled, threatening to fail him. His wings ached all over, he didn’t want to move them, let alone try to fly with them. After a tense walk that took far longer than normal he reached the main end island. Now it was just a matter of climbing up to the top, that in and of itself was arduous though. With the way everything hurt, with the way his body screamed at him to just be still, it was no easy task. Each time he heaved himself up a block he felt dizzy, felt himself waver and he worried he’d fall right off the side of the solid block staircase.

Finally he reached the top, dragging himself back to his feet and making his way toward the portal. He kept his gaze low, not wanting to anger any endermen. He was fairly sure he’d be very dead faster than he could register if he did look at one of them. Ultimately, mercifully, he reached the portal home and with little thought he fell into it.

--

“And here we are, these are the main tunnels and through that hole below is the main hub.” Mumbo explained, motioning at all of it. Grian stopped beside him, taking it all in.

“This looks incredible.” Grian was in awe as he looked over the structure for the first time.

“A lot of work went into this, Xisuma, Cub, False… I think they did the most really.” Mumbo noted, not quite able to keep nestalgia from his tone.

“Oh I see, they seem like hard workers.” Grian agreed and since they were all on the dead team now Mumbo supposed he must have seen some example of that already. Grian went to sit on the edge of the opening in the hub, letting his legs dangle over the side as he studied the hub below. After a moment Mumbo joined him.

“So Demise took your memories but left your emotions?” Mumbo asked, still surprised the builder was functioning at all.

“That seems to be, it hurts when I try to remember anything before waking in my coffin. I have enough mind to do what Demise needs of me, but… beyond that I have no idea what is missing. That’s left sorting my emotions a bit of a disaster but I don’t think the magic of this game can steal things from the heart, just make them hard to hear.” Grian explained.

“So no demised hermit would be entirely unreachable.” Mumbo said thoughtfully but Grian only shrugged, it seemed he wasn’t sure.

“Well… I at least know more now than before, hopefully it will be helpful.” Mumbo sighed.

“I wish I could be more help but I don’t think I’m allowed to.” Grian admitted, looking up at the false bloodmoon.

“Well that would make perfect sense.” Mumbo admitted, crossing his arms.

“There you are! I’ve been searching all over!” Scar’s voice so sudden out of nowhere nearly startled Mumbo right off the ledge he was sitting on.

“Oh, hi.” Grian said, turning to regard Scar.

“Sorry to interrupt but I need your help, there’s things we need to do.” Scar explained.

“Can Mumbo come too?”

“Absolutely not, sorry.” Scar said with a shake of his head.

“That’s fine… well, it’s not really. I can guess what you have in mind.” Mumbo said, tone level. Still, even trying to sound indifferent the undead hermit snapped a sharp look on Mumbo. Scar’s eyes had gone entirely black.

“You should just fly off and mind your own business, warmblood.” Scar said in a deep, threatening tone. That was all though, Scar made no move to attack. It was more than troubling to see normally peaceful hermit so angry.

“So it is in your head…” Mumbo muttered before pushing off the ledge and flying out over the hub. He let them go, not wanting to push Scar into attacking him.

Soon enough he was back at his base, the portal not trapped, thankfully. It was nearly sunrise now but flying back up to the top he realized Zedaph was already gone.

--

Morning came a bit before Doc was really ready for it. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he’d laid down the night before. Still, there was nothing for it, he couldn’t just sleep in at a time like this. Too much was riding on those left alive. With a heavy sigh he pulled himself up, glancing around the room. Above him he could hear the other two stirring, their feet on the floor.

“Are you alright?” Python asked, his voice only mildly muffled.

“Yeah, fine.” Wels said, short and sharp. It went silent above but Doc wasn’t too fond of what he heard, having a sinking feeling pulling on the pit of his stomach. Trying to shake that aside though, he set about fixing a quick breakfast for the three of them, despite it being Python’s kitchen. The layout was simple enough after all and he didn’t think the other hermit would argue.

“You really do seem a bit… troubled.” Python noted on his way down the stairs with Wels and Doc glanced their way. Wels paused on the steps to level a tired look at Python.

“I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well.” The Knight admitted.

“I’m sorry…” Python said softly, it sounded like he wanted to press for more but instead he just let it go.

“I’d say good morning but I doubt we’re going to see one for a long time.” Doc spoke up, attention back on the food before he dared talk.

“You can say that again.” Wels huffed under his breath as he came over. He looked past Doc, out the window. Silence fell over the group but the air wasn’t as comfortable as it had been between them they day before. Wels was adding an odd level of tension and it was pulling at the edges of Doc’s mind with dread.

As soon as there was food ready he started handing it out, not wanting to linger any longer than they had to. Silence continued over the three of them and thus, even muffled as it was, Doc was able to hear a voice outside calling out a name.

“Mumbo! Mumbo seriously, where have you gone?!” It was Zedaph, he sounded worried and from the look on Python’s face it was for good reason. Of course, Doc could only imagine what Mumbo must be going through at the moment, he just had to hope the other redstoner hadn’t done anything stupid.

Stuffing the last of his breakfast in his face Doc hurried out the door, he could hear the other two hot on his heels. Quickly but cautiously they made their way towards the market district, where Zedaph’s calls could still be heard.

“Zed!” Doc called out once they were near enough and the other hermit twisted in the air, angling towards them and landing in front of Doc.

“I can’t find Mumbo, he slipped out while I was asleep.” He said, half frantic.

“We’ll find him.” Python said firmly.

“I hope he’s okay…” Zed sighed, sounding quite upset at having lost the other hermit and Doc couldn’t really blame him, it would be a heavy burden if Mumbo had…

“Let’s get moving, there’s things we need and we have to find Mumbo too now.” Doc said, starting off cautiously down the path. He kept close to the others but let Hanz and Franz lead, they detected traps all over the district and Doc was fairly certain he and possibly the others would have been dead a few times over if not for the perceptive little fuzz balls. While they managed to gather some of the needed supplies they were still lacking in others and  there wasn’t any sign of Mumbo anywhere. Worry deepened among the group though Wels still seemed quite standoffish as they approached his shop.

“Here, take as much stock from here as needed and if we need more we can make a trip to the smelter.” Wels said, his voice was flatter than normal.

“Thank you.” Doc said, pulling empty shulkers from his enderchest to fill with glass. At the moment he wasn’t sure how much more he was going to need, he had a rough idea but this would at least be a good start. Soon enough they headed out of the shop, following the coast then taking to the air out over the water. Looping close but just out of the market district, past Big Logs.

Just as they began to angle off towards the pirate district and thus, a safer portal an agonized scream rang out from the district they were leaving behind. It was impossible to tell what hermit the voice belonged to.

--

“I have a target in mind.” Scar said as he and Grian returned to the graveyard, the sun was out, chasing the dew up into low hanging mist that clung to the ground. Grian just bobbed his head in a nod when Scar glanced back at him, seeming fine to just follow along. “Oh come on Grian, you’ve got to have some pranks up your sleeve.”

“I know a lot of pranks… but they all need the right context to apply and I have no idea what we’re doing.” Grian pointed out.

“Oh… yeah that’s a good point. Alright come here I’ll explain.” Scar said, turning for his crypt. Grian followed him in and down and Scar dug a few maps out of a chest, spreading them out on the floor and going over the basic layout of their target’s home with him. Grian nodded and looked quite thoughtful and once Scar had finished he spoke up.

“We need puffer fish. Lots of them.” Grian said and Scar couldn’t quite hide the way that made him tremble. Luckily enough, Grian was looking at the map and didn’t see.

“Uh… yeah we can… um… Xisuma has a shop for them.” Scar said, wracking his brain fast but relieved when he realized they didn’t have to go out and catch the creatures in the wild. Still, using them at all was an unpleasant thought. He shoved it aside hard, burying the memory of his death for now.

“Perfect, so we get the puffer fish and some basic building supplies and head for the village.” Grian said, now looking up at Scar with a devious grin.

“Sounds like a plan.” Scar nodded and together they set off, first emptying Xisuma’s stock of pufferfish then heading out to New NewHermitvill. Knowing where the traps were made it easier to navigate the nether tunnels safely, flying along with Grian would have been dangerous otherwise. They made the trip in record time and through the portal in a blink. They flew out over the home of Bdubs and Keralis, it looked like neither was present. Scar and Grian circled over the village a bit but nothing stood out too much at first. Finally Grian lighted down onto the ground outside of Bdubs’ cabin, staring suspiciously into Smiler’s enclosure.

“I thought so… there’s redstone hidden here.” Grian said, pointing past the grumpy looking horse. Sure enough when Scar looked there was a redstone torch.

“Well what do you know.” Scar nodded.

“I feel the need to press a button.” Grian said, almost sounding entranced as he turned for the door of the cabin. With a shrug Scar followed, the inside of the house was simply but fittingly decorated and Scar took a few mental notes. “It’s here.”

Drawn back to the matter at hand, Scar went over to see what Grian was pointing at and on seeing it let out a long sigh. Of course.

“What?” Grian asked, looking like he was barely containing his button pushing urge. It just compounded on the realization that Grian really had no memories left of his life before his demise.

“It’s… don’t worry about it, I think I know what’s going on. Just push the-” That’s as far as Scar got before Grian slammed his fist into the button hard enough to almost break it. The builder let out the most giddy, uncontrolled giggle that Scar had ever heard in his life.

With the firing of redstone though, the composter was pulled out of the way briefly, revealing a hole below. With a glance to each other the Gray Skins nodded. Grian hit the button again to re-open the secret entrance. Down they went without fear, landing in a more accurate sewer than the Hippies had built under their similarly hidden door. Working their way out of the water Scar took the lead in exploring the tunnels. Most dead-ended quite quickly when they jutted off the main tunnel.

“Something’s here.” Grian said, looking at one of the dead ends and then a very oddly placed slab in the water. With little concern Grian, like some sort of redstone bloodhound dropped into the water and struck a hidden note block. Redstone fired and a piston door opened in the deadended tunnel.

“How…. did you find that?” Scar asked, a little more suspicious this time.

“I have no idea, I just followed the urge to poke at a strange contraption.” Grian shrugged. There was no further explanation forthcoming so Scar just had to accept it as it was.

“Well… let’s see if we can find a good place to trap then.” Scar said, heading through the newly opened door. It had been a one way entrance and he kept that in mind. Grian closed the door after them and together they explored Keralis’ bunker that looked more like an immaculate modern mansion. They wandered through a few rooms, petted the dogs and generally tried to figure out where the most likely place to catch Keralis unaware would be. At the end of the hall was a bubble column that Grian pointed out.

“This has to be his exit… let’s see where it goes.” Grian said, stepping into it without further consideration or any hesitation. Scar trusted the other hermit since Grian’s instincts had been on the mark so far. The bubblevator just…

Led outside.

Just outside with nothing to hide it aside from a couple of bushes. It came out right in the middle of the village, between the areas already converted and those where old abandoned villager houses still sat.

“This is perfect .” Grian said with a huge smile, looking around then back to Scar. “I have a plan.”

--

Shulkers were out of the question, that was obvious enough. Quietly in his hole in the mountain Iskall patched his wounds, hands shaky as they were. He got the bandages as tight as he could, staving off bouts of dizziness. It hurt to breathe, his head felt foggy and light at the same time and all the while pain screeched at him from all over. With a heavy, pained sigh Iskall decided it may be wise to just go home. He wanted to sleep, to hide from everything including his own bad choices.

That wasn’t going to fix his storage problems though and so he reasoned with himself that he could just buy some wood on his way. Chests would be fine for now, he was in no shape to harvest the wood himself though, even if he was patient enough to do so. After a few moments more to motivate himself to move, Iskall stood, leaving the second secret hiding place. Carefully, cautiously, Iskall moved through the shadows as best he could, avoiding man paths anywhere possible as he crossed the market district. When Big Logs came into view he let out a sigh of relief, he was almost there.

So far, so good. He made his way up the path and into the shop, the click of a pressure plate barely registering as he knew there should be one- no. It was a step too far over. The door closed, blocked behind him and the sound of water spilling forth from dispensers filled the room. Water fell loose as pistons pulled other blocks aside as well, from above the displays of wood. In a panic Iskall’s wings snapped and he kicked off the ground, it hurt like hell but he needed to escape .

That though…. Clearly enough, had been considered by the creator of the trap. Iskall realized this as his head and back collided with the glass ceiling now in place over the shop. He hit it with a loud thunk before falling back to the floor below. There was a splash, water coating the floor but not enough for him to drown in. He’d hit the floor hard as well and his scream of agony drowned out the sound of encroaching, angry pufferfish. He could see them though, flopping and puffing up as they were spilled from the water. He could see his death impending, he couldn’t will his body to move again, all of it just a hot, burning pain. He still felt it as the spines dug into him from the fish pushed by the current of flowing water, steadily, slowly rising on the floor.

The world spun, it all hurt. Somewhere in it all though, he let it go. His mind managed to find its way back to the the two he’d lost… he’d be with them again. Instantly that was all that mattered and Iskall fell into the blackness, the painlessness without regret.

--

Carefully, quietly, Bdubs made his way back out, spreading his wings to fly out over the swamp. He had the locations on the map tightly in mind, refusing to get distracted as he made his way towards the furthest out. It took a bit of searching but he found a blood red banner with a white marking. Assuming that was what he was after he took it and set off for the next location. Knowing what he was looking for and generally how well hidden it might be Bdubs systematically tracked each banner down and gathered them up. It hadn’t taken terribly long, but perhaps longer than he would have hoped as now the sun was setting. Shoving that concern aside Bdubs flew back to the Deadquarters, sailing in right past the lava trap to light down on the carpet beyond.

Now though, he had to figure out what he was supposed to do with the banners, of which he wasn’t sure. As he started back towards the map room he noticed a tripwire that hadn’t been there before. Frowning he stepped back, drawing his axe and giving it a precise throw. The diamond blade cut through the string and a rain of several potions splashed down. Once those potions had time to have soaked into the carpet Bdubs finally retrieved his axe. He really hoped Impulse hadn’t heard that but there was no guarantee, clearly someone had noticed his arrival and set that extra trap. With a steadying breath he made his way down the hall, only to see another tripwire, this one was so close to the doorways though, he really worried about getting caught. Quietly as he could he tossed an enderpearl a few blocks past the string and teleported over, that wasn’t exactly silent but it was quieter than breaking glass.

After a moment of staring at the walls Bdubs realized he needed to hang the banners in an order of some kind. He set about doing so, mindful of tripwires and keeping an eye on the entrance to the dungeon, he really didn’t want Impulse sneaking up on him. Carefully, mindfully he hung the banners in what he could best tell was their correct order. He hopped tripwires with enderpearls and got the banners hung all the way down the hall. As he got the last one set into place he heard pistons retract from the direction of the stairs. He froze, watching down the hall for a moment but it didn’t seem like he was going to have to worry about the undead hermit on the floor below.

Bdubs made his way back to the stairs being equally careful and quiet as before. The stairs were dark but he felt a boost of confidence having made it this far, he didn’t let a few dark steps bother him. He could see another hall as he crested the top but there was a big pool of shadow on the carpet in the middle of the passage. Taking a cautious step forward Bdubs tried to discern what he was looking at, but as he did it rose from the floor as if pulled by a string.

It was Tango. Bdubs tensed as the dead hermit stood before him, staring him down with those ominous red eyes. Bdubs said nothing, standing his ground and staring back, honestly he was just proud of himself for not panicking.

“Uh, could you move please?” Bdubs said after a few more moments of staring.

“Make me.” Tango said, a ghostly, threatening edge to his voice.

“I mean, you’re the one who invited me here. Or does being dead come with lapses in memory?” Bdubs shot back, sounding far bolder than he felt. Tango arched a brow at him, seeming unimpressed.

“Invited, challenged. Congratulations of beating the first floor, but now you have to get through me before you can attempt the second.” Tango explained, spreading his wings to effectively block the path.

“Is that supposed to be scary? Threatening? Cause it isn’t. You’re about as scary as your braindead boyfriend downstairs. I mean seriously, I made all kinds of racket and he never came to check, is he deaf now?” Bdubs taunted, trying to sound as tough as he could.

“ What did you just say?” Tango snarled at him, tensing.

“You heard me. You dead guys are all a bunch of dummies, I’ve met cows scarier than you!” Bdubs said, actually starting to feel almost as bold as he sounded. That faded fast however, as he realized his possible mistake of going too far. After all, the way Tango’s eyes flooded entirely red and started to glow was more than a little telling.

“You’re DEAD!” Tango roared, launching himself forward and it was all Bdubs could do not to fall as he retreated, flinging himself down the stairs. Tangled and stumbling he thought for sure Tango would catch him on the stairs but it seemed the tight space was equally cumbersome for the other hermit. As soon as Bdubs’ feet hit carpet they were running and his wings beat hard to take him up over the lava pit.

Terror ripped through Bdubs’ heart as he fled for his very life. He was almost clear of the lava pit when a trident, or at least he assumed that’s what it was, buried itself in his back. In a flash of pain Bdubs was falling, he heard a scream just before he struck the edge of the exit hard. All at once he was falling, he tried beating his wings but one wouldn’t respond, his efforts only increasing his speed and making him spin. Below was a very solid looking clump of ground rising out of the swampy waters. On it he spotted Grimdog appear from nowhere, the undead hermit glancing up before stumbling out of the way.

Bdubs hit the ground hard and in a flash of pain everything came to a very abrupt stop. In a blink there was darkness, silence, nothingness.

--

Betraying Cleo… the guilt of that was still gnawing away at Keralis as he made his way back into the village. He’d spent quite a long while sulking in the Idea boardroom but he couldn’t hide from his problems there any longer. He had to return to the safety of his hidden home, after all, for as much as he loved Xisuma he had no idea how he’d react. Keralis stepped into Bdubs’ cabin, following the usual path to his hidden base.

It was quiet this far underground, though Piña and Colada boofed at his arrival so he went to pet them. Petting the dogs and watching the fish bobbing around in their tank did ease Keralis’ nerves a bit. He felt less on edge at least. That had to be worth something right?

With a heavy sigh Keralis kicked off his boots and flopped onto the couch, hugging both pooches. They adored the attention and as evening settled in somewhere above ground Keralis felt the weight of the day’s events pulling on him. With the crackling fire and soft bubbling of the fishtank the builder found himself dozing off fairly quickly. His mind was heavy with the fog of impending sleep when another sound reached his ears, a soft voice, a familiar voice.

“Keralis…” It called with an ethereal ring to it, it was haunting, beautiful but haunting. In a blink the builder was startled to his feet, sending both dogs on high alert in the process. Keralis scanned the room but saw nothing, he certainly felt something though. The voice… this feeling, it was a presence he knew well but there was a tainted edge to it that twisted his heart painfully. Xisuma.

Shakily Keralis crept out into the hallway, peeking into the room across the way then looking down the hall… by the entrance he spotted a figure dressed all in black. It was cloth, not Xisuma, but… how they got in… Keralis backed towards the bubblevator, holding his breath already. He didn’t want to know how someone had snuck in, he’d have heard the door, it wasn’t quiet. He wasn’t waiting to find out and have a chat either, he could see the gray tone of their hand and just as they turned to face him, looking down the hall; Keralis stepped into the bubblevator.

It was Rendog in his bunker.

That was the last thing Keralis got to focus on before he was at the top of his bubblevator however… he wasn’t… where he expected to be. There was water, it was dark and something stung him. Then again, again and again. Frantically he tried to flail upwards, fumbling for any tool to help him escape this box of death. The sound of the water, the strange sound of the fish, it was all he could hear and despite hitting the ceiling a time or two with a tool; he couldn’t hear more than muffled thudding while under the water. His arms quickly grew too weak though, he couldn’t break through, his body refusing to listen. A panicked scream escaped only to be replaced by water, making his lungs burn, he choked, flailed but couldn't escape.

“Keralis…” He heard Xisuma’s voice once more, haunting, ghostly, beautiful… it was warm in the cold of the water, welcoming in the face of fear. “Come to me, Keralis.”

Slowly he felt himself sinking, going numb but that was fine… Xisuma was calling to him and he wouldn’t leave the hermit waiting, he had missed Xisuma so much since he’d demised, been so worried.

So… very…. W o r r i e d.

Chapter Text

Light hearted laughter and music filled the air around the graveyard. False couldn’t quite control her giggles, not when Stress’ were so unabated, pure happiness. So what if their skin had turned gray, who cared? So what that their hearts had stopped, that didn’t mean they’d lost their ability to feel. False couldn’t have cared if she tried about the loss of her own life, she was still here, still herself as best she could tell. More importantly though, she was here with Stress, they had a second chance together in unlife. Together . It felt like something that should have happened so long ago, something False should have just… said, she’d been so sure she’d imagined the way she caught Stress looking at her now and then. So sure her feelings wouldn’t be mutual and yet here they were, having their own little party around the graves. Somehow, despite being dead, False had never felt so alive, so elated.

She wasn’t too worried about trying to adjust to life as a member of the undead, Cleo was proof enough that a hermit could live comfortably as such. Even with the distant call of Demise, its demands reaching out like the drums of war; False felt she had as much of a life worth living as she ever had. With one hand holding Stress’ own, their fingers intertwined, False’s other hand resting comfortably on Stress’ hip they glided together to the rhythm of the song. Swaying this way and twirling back, damp swamp grass and soggy path squelching under their feet as they went. Their movements were in time with the music, in sync with each other.

All the while False held Stress’ gaze with her own. Colorless as they were, Stress’ eyes sparkled with something magnificent, something deep and honest. It stirred something in False’s own cold, dead heart and she was certain she knew exactly what it was. She knew and she was delighted about it. The world around them seemed every bit the same as it ever did, there was nothing dreary about the graveyard though. This wasn’t the resting place of the dead, it was their home. Lightly they swayed past open graves and over those not yet filled. Their little bouts of laughter flitting through the fog enchantingly along with the ever carrying notes of the record. Death was only a new beginning and nothing could weigh down their hearts now.

--

This looked as good a place to camp as any, Joe figured as the sun dipped low on the horizon. Still, he needed to make a wide sweep of the perimeter before he settled in. Back into the air his weary wings carried him, wind brushing through his feathers like delicate hands through strands of silk. He flies out over the mountain range, searching for any signs of activity anywhere at all. He wasn’t sure where he was anymore, he’d flown for hours and occasionally altered direction. However, as he came to the edge of the range he dropped out of air intentionally with a wave of panic. For as the fog cleared just ahead he saw the graveyard. The graveyard He built. With a splash he landed in a small area of water. He peered out from around a tree, looking to the now very populated area.

He was in danger here, he knew… then again, that was only if they found him. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure they would think to look right under their own noses. As bold a move as it would be, Joe started to consider it might be quite clever as well. Silently as he could he pulled himself from the tiny pond and worked his way back up the side of the mountain, hurrying off quickly. He glanced over his shoulders many a time, just to be sure he wasn’t being followed but so far so good.

He found an opening down into a cave from the top of the mountain and made his way inside, being sure not to leave any torches right at the mouth of the cave but he did start placing them as he made his way inside, looking for a place to rest. With trident in hand he cut down the mobs that had been calling this cave home, he was in no mood to be decking it out with mindless zombies while trying to eat something. The thought brought back the memory of he and Cleo exploring a similar such cave a long time ago. Of how they’d been there so long they had to camp within it, much like he was doing now, but back then they hadn’t secured the area well enough. He remembered how they’d settled down to eat something only for groans and shuffling to approach them. How he’d beaten a mindless zombie further senseless with the porkchop in his hand while Cleo laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe. It still made chills run down his spine at the memory of Cleo’s laughs turning to pained cries as a zombie snuck up behind her… bit her.

Joe shook his head as he tried to cast the horrible memory aside, it lingered though, it lingered as he glanced around and realized he had no idea what path would take him back out of the cave anymore. Carefully he set up a place to hide but he couldn’t escape the vice like grip on his heart that he knew was his worry for Cleo. He believed in her ability to take care of herself but he also knew all too well how reckless she could be. Just in curing her zombiesm she’d almost drowned, had he not been there to pull her back out of the water…

Again he shook his head, trying and failing not to worry, he wanted nothing more than to go back out and find her, to assure himself that she was fine. He couldn’t though, he needed to rest, he had to hide, he couldn’t just…. No matter how badly he might want to see Cleo, it was too dangerous, he could put her in further trouble.

Unless Jevin…

No.

He refused to believe that. He refused to believe she might have lost to him in battle. Joe had trusted her, he’d run, he’d continue to run until this was over, until this nightmare had ended. That didn’t mean it would be any less terrifying, that he wasn’t going to worry about Cleo as well as the other hermits… but as he sat there, in the dark cave, set up camp and settled in, he clung to the hope they’d all be alright.

Joe had almost drifted off when he heard the sound of blocks being broken, someone was mining the stone near him. Joe was up in a flash, trident in hand he barreled off the other direction, running near blindly towards a cave he hadn’t explored yet. With the type of rabid abandon he normally saw from no one but Cleo herself, Joe flung himself into the darkness. He didn’t dare place torches and he dodged mobs, knowing the sound of battle would give him away. He couldn’t even see where he was going, relying more on sound and glowing eyes to give him direction. Behind him, from the darkness he’d left in his wake; he heard a voice call out to him.

“Joe! Joe I just want to see you, my friend . Come on out, I have a gift for you!” It was Cub and Joe had a pretty good idea what that gift was, considering Jevin before. Actually, Joe had to wonder; why they thought that would work . That was a question for another day though, for now Joe had to get to safety, somehow… there had to be somewhere…

He could hear water and he followed the sound, turning down another tunnel. This one opened to the side of a ravine. It was dark but not as pitch black as the cave with lava glowing in big pools at the bottom. He hopped off the ledge, wings unfurling as he sailed out over the ravine, gliding downward to a lower ledge and another cave mouth. Once there he stopped, leaning on the stone while he tried to catch his breath. He was exhausted, the world was spinning. He slid down the wall to sit, the cave was shallow, not much would come at him from that way. This allowed him to settled down just out of sight, watch from the mouth of the cave into the ravine. His exhaustion weighed in on him again, he felt dizzy or sick, his wings ached, leaving him with nothing but a wish to sleep.

The clucking of a chicken drew his attention though and he blinked, looking at the creature incredulously. He had no idea where it had come from or perhaps how it could have wandered this far, but it played in a puddle of water on the obsidian nearby. He quietly thought to himself, how funny it would be, if he could hide his soul in that chicken like a Phylactery. If he did that, then the dead team wouldn’t be able to actually kill him. It was just one of those random thoughts though, one of the ones that would make Cleo laugh… if she were there to be told. Depressed all over again Joe shoved such thoughts from his mind, shifting his focus back onto watching for threats until he fell asleep.

--

Xisuma didn’t need to breathe, but he heaved a sigh anyway when he woke, it was a relief to be back in his body again. Being ghostly was so very limiting. He had however, managed to call to Keralis though, so perhaps that was enough. He pushed his coffin lid open and climbed out of his grave yet again. Glancing around Xisuma could see a new hole had been dug, another grave exhumed and that gave belonged to one TinFoilCheff. Xisuma didn’t know who’d gotten him but he smirked, glad the old hermit would be joining them. Following the sound of digging now Xisuma noticed Grimdog removing the dirt from above Iskall’s grave, so Iskall would be joining them then. Heading for Keralis’s grave Xisuma realized Bdub’s had filled in as well, he was a little startled but that quickly faded. He was relieved, he’d have them both on the dead team now.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

He didn’t dare, not even a little, stop to consider the deeper feelings pulling at the edges of his mind, screaming from his heart. Like always he put his respect for his friends first, anything else wasn’t important.

It wasn’t…

He started digging.

Soon he had the dirt cleared away from both coffins and he pulled himself out of Keralis’ grave, when he did he could hear Grimdog speaking.

“Welcome to the Dead Team, brother.”

“Uh, thanks. Well, that was inconvenient.” TFC grumbled, hoisting himself up out of the hole.

“It can be.” Grimdog agreed sympathetically, he would know, he’d died a few times now.

“Uh-huh.” TFC said, dusting himself off, he sounded unimpressed.

“Now that you’re awake we can get you up to speed-” Grimdog started but TFC cut him off.

“I’m going back to my Vault.”

“W-what?” Grimdog blinked.

“Got things to do and traps to clean up.” The older hermit shrugged and started out of the graveyard.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You don’t want to set any traps?” Xisuma asked in confusion.

“Don’t care to, no. Just want to get some of my own things done.”

“How… how do you resist the call like that?” Xisuma asked, tilting his head a bit.

“Ain’t had any sway on me yet. I signed up so I wouldn’t be the only one left behind if you lot got into the thick of this mess; which you did. That doesn’t mean I’m helping make it worse. That book can shove its plots and ploys where the sun don’t shine.” TFC said with a shrug before continuing on his way towards the nether portal.

“Well…” Xisuma blinked, feeling a bit of whiplash from how entirely… normal TFC was, nothing changed about him, aside from the drain of all color. It was strange and Xisuma couldn’t help but feel that he’d missed something. Or failed something.

--

They’d heard the screaming… but gotten there too late, landing in a mess on the glass ceiling. The others trying to fly while carrying him had been awkward to begin with but… still. Wels remembered all too well the sight of someone’s body breaking up in black, smoldering ash. They had no clue which of the remaining alive team it had been, aside from just, not Doc. When they’d looked up from the scene of the murder they’d been met with the cold presence of Grimdog and it had taken everything in Wels’ will not to attack the undead hermit.

Now though, having parted ways with Ren, or what used to be Ren, they were back in the nether all over again while Mumbo and Zedaph worked together to get him up on the second level. It was troublesome not having a wing in a world where everyone is born avian. He couldn’t help but wonder how TFC deals with it…

TFC lives underground and never comes out of his hole, that’s how.

Wels knew he was slowing the others down as they made their way back to Area 77, he knew it would be so much faster for them to fly but instead they walked. Then again Doc was having his foxes lead again to check for traps so maybe it wouldn’t have been any different. One of said foxes let out an alarm bark.

“Oh my word!” A familiar voice called as they neared the offshoot tunnel to the Halloween district’s portal. As Wels’ neared he looked in to see Mumbo. “You startled me.”

“Mumbo! I’ve been so worried!” Zedaph half shouted while Doc got his fox to chill.

“I’m terribly sorry… I just couldn’t stay there any longer.” Mumbo sighed.

“Are you… are you alright?” Python asked, still worried.

“I… I think I might be, eventually. I ran into Grian, he’s not the Envoy anymore but… he doesn’t remember anything. He… OH MY WORD! Wels!” Mumbo said in wide eyed surprise when he glanced past Doc and spotted the knight.

“I’m still very much alive, Mumbo.” Wels offered with a shrug, trying not to sound concerned. He was however, something about hearing Grian wasn’t the Envoy, it made his skin crawl and he wasn’t sure why.

“I’m glad… maybe things aren’t as dire as they feel.” Mumbo said, seeming like he was having trouble believing that even as he said it.

“There’s always a chance for things to get better.” Doc pointed out.

“What are you doing here anyway? Where did Grian go?” Zedaph asked, on edge at the thought of one of the dead on the loose.

“Scar took him, I don’t know where they are now. I… have been a bit unsure what to do.” Mumbo admitted.

“Well you can tag along then, we’ve got a plan.” Doc said, motioning for Mumbo to follow before setting off again. Just like that everyone started moving again, Wels with them. The group fell into silence as they went, leaving the sounds the clicking of fox claws on the wood floor and the hermit’s footsteps. Somewhere, in the midst of that Wels started hearing a rhythm, or a lack of one, a song, voiceless, in his mind. It was there, ever so gently pulling on his mind. It was like the song was testing his mind, poking at his willpower.

--

Slowly the nothingness recieeded, slowly his senses returned, slowly Iskall drifted out of the void of death and settled back into his body. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he might have expected, or as lonely, no, there was someone else with him, two someones, he could feel their arms wrapped around his body, his cold body, as chilled as theirs. There was no need to breathe, no pain… if not for their grasp he’d have assumed this was just to be his fate, with them though, he could tell… he could tell there was more.

Iskall opened his eyes, looking to either side and quickly realizing exactly where he was and losing every desire to move anywhere else. Right here was exactly where he wanted to be, no matter the soft drumming in the back of his mind, conjuring forth inspiration for traps. No, that mattered very little in the face of what was right with him.

Scar.

Cub.

Dead or alive, that didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was that these two were with him, they were right here holding him and he loved them. Was one of them responsible for his demise? Probably, but that was done and over and Iskall found no reason to try and grasp at hot coals. Instead he focused on pulling both closer, on planting a gentle kiss on Scar’s forehead before turning to meet Cub’s lips. There was a soft groan drawn up from the depths of Cub’s chest to hum against Iskall’s lips. Scar snuggled closer, burying his face in the cruck of Iskall’s neck and sighing softly, seeming to melt against him.

This was all that mattered, this right here was all that had any meaning. Iskall could guess where he was and he didn’t care. He didn’t have to be afraid anymore and that in and of itself was the biggest relief. There weren't enough diamonds in the world to make up for the stress of having to hide from the two hermits he loved so dearly. Now all was well, all was right.

That’s what mattered.

--

Keralis tensed against nothingness as his consciousness returned with a snap, it had been slow at first but all at once he’d remembered the pufferfish and… he wasn’t in water. He was safe… relatively, he could tell he was in a box… a coffin it settled in harshly and he muttered under his breath, reaching up to push on the lid. To his relief, it opened easily and the sight waiting on him once it was out of the way made his still heart jump. Whether it was fear or something else he wasn’t sure but with how Xisuma knelt and reached for him… it sent that feeling through him again and it wasn’t fear. He was sure. He pulled himself up enough to reach that grasp and let Xisuma pull him from his grave. Keralis stumbled a bit once back up on flat ground and Xisuma caught him, pulling him into a hug.

“Watch your step… are you alright?” Xisuma’s voice was kind and warm, warmer than anything else in this fog saturated place.

“I’m better with you here, Shishwamy.” Keralis said softly, he’d said similar things without Xisuma catching on and he figured this would be no different.

“I’m glad. I’m sorry to have to trick you like that… but I missed you and we’re so close to having everyone here.” Xisuma said, hugging Keralis a bit tighter before letting him go.

“Oh really?” Keralis asked, unsure if that was good or bad, unsure of how to take Xisuma’s reaction to it all.

“You know… one of these days you two need to be honest with each other.” Bdub’s voice cut in, causing them both to jump. Turning that way Keralis saw Bdubs standing in his own grave, watching them with a warm expression, a knowing expression.

“I.. er, Bdubs I…” Xisuma stammered, caught off guard.

“Listen you two, as your friend and someone who knows a thing or two about love. Just say it. If you don’t… if you hesitate, you’re going to regret all the lost time, all the missed opportunities. You have no idea just how many chances for small happinesses there are until you have them in your grasp.” Bdubs said in that well rounded, knowing tone of his.

Xisuma sucked in a breath, seeming nervous and for the first time Keralis started to realize what that little tell was. Bubbles was right, he trusted him, but there was more do this he felt, more than even Bubbles was picking up on. Still. You couldn’t win a round of RUN without risking a diamond, this was similar… couldn’t win love without risking his heart. It was clear Shishwamy wasn’t going to make the first move, even when it was brought to light, so Keralis decided he would .

“Fine, Bubbles. You’re right, you usually have a good point with that beautiful face of yours. So fine… I’ll say it.” Keralis said with a huff and he wasn’t sure how to go about this, it wasn’t easy, but he decided to start with where Bubbles seemed to want him to.

“You…” Xisuma muttered, a little uncertain as he glanced between the two of them, but Keralis didn’t give him a chance to back out.

“I love you Shishwammy.” Keralis said without any flowery flourish or half hidden jokes. He was serious, he meant it and he didn’t give his words room to be misunderstood.

“I…” Xisuma muttered, seeming all the more nervous but he let out a long sigh and pulled his helmet off, even the gold normally in his eyes was muted. He looked from Keralis to Bdubs and back again. “I love you too… I… I haven’t said anything I just… because you see I…”

It was unusual to see the leader so uncertain and on edge but it was clear he was trying to get past whatever it was that held him back. Keralis waited patiently, hanging on each word, not yet giving himself the chance to be excited at Xisuma’s admission.

“I love you but I also love… another at the same time and I just. I…” Keralis caught Xisuma’s eyes and the leader fell silent. Keralis knew what he meant though, he knew how he felt and he hoped he was able to convey that point before glancing at Bdubs, who was rubbing at his neck and making mildly discontented noises now… Bubbles was as oblivious as always. He seemed to realize he was being stared at though, glancing up at them.

“What?” He seemed entirely unsure what was going on now and Keralis glanced back to Xisuma, it seemed Keralis was right in his guess.

“You… feel the same?” Xisuma asked and Keralis nodded before looking back to the still bewildered Bdubs.

“You’re the other, Bdubs. I.. I love you both.” Xisuma finally managed to say.

“Same, I love both of you.” Keralis added, giving Bdubs his best firm look so he couldn’t try to shake it off.

“You… You two… Oh come on, you two don’t need me. You don’t want someone as… I’m not sure there’s enough of my heart left to share with even one of you.” Bdubs said, his voice going weak and he laid his face in the grass. Keralis could hear the pain clearly though, he knew this was the harder part… Bubbles had never quite recovered from losing Etho. He’d seemed fine rejoining them but no matter how hard Keralis tried he could never get Bdubs to say what had happened. He never could find out what it took for Bdubs to come back. He just knew that there was pain in those eyes and he hated seeing it there, burning and festering in a way that Bdubs wouldn’t escape on his own.

“Don’t be ridiculous… what you’ve been through is no reason to love you any less, but rather, all the more.” Xisuma said, seeming to gain confidence the longer the admissions were in the air. He went over and pulled Bdubs up, pulled him all the way up into a hug and Keralis picked his way around the graves to do just the same, hugging them both.

--

Steadily… the noises of the nether were growing weaker, the footsteps, the clicking claws, it was all losing focus, it was all losing prevalence. There were conversations, redstone, time travel… Wels was only catching snips and bits of it, his wounded shoulder burned. The ache of the missing wing burning in his memory the dream coming to mind. It wasn’t something he could so easily shake, it wasn’t something he could escape. The harder he tried to push it all from his mind, the harder he tried to focus on what was important the louder the song got, the more intense it seemed to seep into him.

They were through the portal, the change in atmosphere was almost enough to grant him reprieve but all too soon as they fell into step at the bottom of the tower was he pulled back into the strange fighting ground. All too soon was he fighting that strange feeling, that strange sound. It threatened to swallow him whole and while he could feel Python’s hand in his, he could still pick up on parts of the conversation but nothing cohesive enough to really cling to. It was driving him up the wall, he wasn’t sure the others even realized anything was amiss… how could they? He didn’t have anything meaningful to add to a conversation about redstone, time travel or necromancy.

Part of him wanted to break away and run, wanted to just step away from it all and find a place to hide, to focus on fighting the strange song that was so dead set on taking his own thoughts from him. He’d fight it, he wasn’t going to let it win.. Even if it was keeping him from speaking up about his own concerns.

As they returned to Area 77 he was led to a bed and he figured they thought he was just tired… he was though, he honestly was and he dropped into the cool bed without argument, trying to rest, trying to focus his thoughts to be his own…

He just had to focus.

--

As much as Cub didn’t want to drag himself away from Iskall and Scar he knew the two would be alright together, the always had after all. For now he had responsibilities to attend to, there were things needing done, things getting neglected. He told himself he could indulge in his favorite people’s attention if he got this out of the way.

On his way back to the caves, back to where he’d found Joe before he bumped into, or rather, tripped over, False and Stress. The two were laying in the grass, all giggles and kisses but him tripping over them seemed to startle them about as much as it had him.

“Uh… Maybe find somewhere a bit safer for sharing affection?” Cub suggested as he got to his feet.

“Sorry… sort of just happens.” Stress said, the startlement making way for her previous over the moon expression.

“We’ll try to be a little more careful. What are you doing out here though, Cub? Don’t you have a certain couple of someone’s to be enjoying the company of?” False asked, more composed and sitting up properly.

“Of course I do but we still have work to get done. I found a certain Joe of the hills, hiding in the hills .” Cub explained, motioning towards the mountains.

“I… haven’t set any traps yet.” False said suddenly seeming almost entranced and she looked to Stress who smiled wide.

“We could work together…” Stress noted, pulling herself up.

“How about it, Cub? We can take over for you, we can hunt Joe down.” False offered, looking back up at him, she seemed really interested in the idea and a smile curled at the edges of his expression.

“Sounds good to me, I look forward to hearing about what you do from Joe himself once he’s on our side.” Cub snickered. With that the girls nodded and stood, heading off in the indicated direction. Cub chuckled to himself before turning back for Scar’s crypt. As he turned though, he noticed Keralis looking at him. Despite being in the middle of a conversation with Bdubs and Xisuma, it seemed like the newer addition had also taken note of Joe’s location.

Cub didn’t much care, he had somewhere he had no excuse not to be right then.

--

Setting the trap at Keralis’s bunker had really stirred something in Grian… it was so much fun and he just wanted to do it more . He’d been disappointed when Scar had taken him back to the graveyard. He’d let Scar go do whatever it was the other builder had found to be so important and had pestered Grimdog for a bit… had Grimdog show him maps and tell him about those remaining alive. There was one place though, that the supposed head of the dead had avoided talking about, one living hermit the Grimdiggitydog avoided mentioning at all… but Jevin had pointed given that missing information when asked. Because it was that avoided place, that unmentioned hermit that Grian felt an absolute drive to trap.

A hermit by the name of Doc.

Grian made his way to Area 77 on his own, there were things about the place that felt familiar but he didn’t dare focus on that. There were also things that weren’t familiar and that left him curious. He explored a bit before he heard the voices of a group of hermits and he split, hiding on the cliffs above the hangers. That proved to be a wise choice when he realized that not only were they coming in from the ground entrance but also that there were foxes at Doc’s side. Grian also noticed Mumbo with them, as well as three hermits he couldn’t remember the names of but he had no urge to trap so he assumed… he shouldn’t.

Grian remained in his hiding place and he watched.

He watched as the Foxes picked up his scent then lost it again.

He watched as Doc did a sweep of the area but found nothing.

He watched as the hermit with only one wing was helped into a hanger and out of sight.

He watched as the others settled around a fire.

He watched as Doc resumed building something until there was no light left in the sky.

Grian watched. He watched it all.

He watched… he waited… he plotted.

--

Keralis overheard. He’d overheard what Cub told Stress and False. His own guilt surged at the thought; that Joe was going to be hunted and Cleo… Cleo who he’d betrayed would soon lose Joe. It tore him up inside, that so soon after finally, finally finding the love he’d longed for only to realize Cleo was about to lose hers. That was, unless she demised too, but he was almost certain that wouldn’t be the case, not after her daring escape. He believed in her, he’d bet on her.

Now though Keralis was hurrying through the nether, he was hurrying even though he had no idea where to look. He was hurrying to find some answer, some clue to where she could be. He hoped to find her before it was too late, to find her before Joe met his demise but he wasn’t sure he could.

He wasn’t sure, until he saw a splash of blue and orange dart into one of the side tunnels ahead and he was quick to pursue. He followed her down the tunnel and caught her hand as she stopped at the portal at the end, pulling her back out.

“Cleo I have to warn you!” He said with serious urgency, at least as much as he could manage, he wasn’t naturally a very serious sounding person. It seemed to be enough though, since even though she spun and leveled a blade in his face, she did wait.

“What is it? You aren’t trying to drag me into another trap are you?” She asked sharply and he flinched, shaking his head.

“No, No Cleo. Look into my eyes, nothing but my eyes. Joe is in danger. He’s in the mountains near the graveyard and the others know he’s there. Cleo he needs you.” He explained quickly, honestly worried.

“Damn it…” She snarled, scheething her sword and rushing past Keralis, back down the tunnel. He heaved a heavy sigh, hoping that would be help enough. He hoped she’d be able to stay safe… keep Joe safe. It was… perhaps a foolish hope but he held onto it anyway. He stepped through the portal Cleo had been about to take, not even sure what he was going to do, just wanting to stay away from the graveyard for just a little bit. Perhaps build something nice he thought… Or maybe he’d make his way back to the games district and play run… maybe a bit of both he decided.

At the end of it all, he’d return to Xisuma and Bdubs, hopefully without the guilt of betraying a friend. He hoped… he really hoped it was enough.

--

Tango flew out over the swamp, Impulse hadn’t been inside the Deadquarters and Tango was beginning to worry, he hadn’t seen the other redstoner in hours. With the shape Impulse had woken in, with how easy it was for him to be incompacitated with pain, Tango was on edge that something might happen to his lover. Circling out over the Deadquarters itself though he finally spotted Impulse, sitting on the roof, looking out over everything. Tango let out a sigh of relief, angling his wings to sail over and settle beside his boyfriend. Impulse looked to be lost in thought, not reacting to Tango’s arrival. Gently Tango sat down beside Impulse and wrapped a wing around him.

“Oh… Hi Tango.” Impulse said, snapping out of his train of thought, his voice holding that slight hollow ring.

“Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” Tango said softly, ever so gently resting his head against an undamaged portion of Impulse’s.

“Just… thinking about Demise… that book and what it’s doing.” Impulse admitted, he sounded depressed. Tango hugged him all the tighter.

“It’s strange, I’ll give you that one, but I think we’ll be alright.”

“We’re dead, Tango.” Impulse said firmly. “Not like Cleo was either, something is wrong with this. It… it has... to stop.”

“Impulse?” Tango asked, concern mounting as pain filled Impulse’s voice.

“See? Egh…. it doesn’t like… us doubting it.” Impulse said in a strained tone.

“Stop, don’t hurt yourself.” Tango insisted, turning to wrap Impulse up entirely.

“But… we have to do something.”

“We will. We’ll figure it out, alright? Just… it’s got its claws in you and Grian worst of all, just trust those of us not drowning in its song to do something.” Tango said, trying his best to sooth Impulse.

“I don’t think you’re able to think as clearly as you think you can.” Impulse said drearily.

“You aren’t happy. That’s all the motivation I need. This will come to an end.” Tango said firmly. Impulse lifted his face from Tango’s shoulder, meeting his gaze and Tango took that moment to lean in and kiss Impulse. He pressed his lips against those of his zombified boyfriend without any hesitation or trepidation. It took Impulse just that split second longer to respond than when he was alive, more clue to how imperfect this unlife was. It had deeply hindered Impulse in a few ways, the damage the other hermit had suffered to his head causing issues. That didn’t hold back the enthusiasm though, as Impulse returned the embrace, running his hands up Tango’s back. There was just enough pressure in the touch that Tango all but melted under the contact. Tango found himself gently pushing Impulse back and down against the roof, never once letting their lips part.

He might not be able to fix demise right now but he’d damn sure do his best to give Impulse any reason to be in a better mood again.

Chapter Text

Stress let out a roar of laughter that sent every creeper, spider, skeleton and mindless zombie scattering away from her and False. As they made their way into the cave together, a plan in mind, a target in their sights. With a wink to each other they split up to start their search, leaving lecterns with clues… clues that led to a false promise. Clues that led to a trap.

Through the darkness, through the torchlight, giggles and laughter filled the air. Stress could always tell where False was from the sound of her voice echoing all over the caves. Thus far though, all Stress had seen was a couple of abandoned campfires, there wasn’t a lot to give away where Joe had gone… until she found a ravine. She let her laughter roll off the walls like thunder, spreading her wings. If she could fly in here she was willing to bet even Joe could, and it was a wide ravine.

Below, she heard movement, her attention snapped that way fast and that’s when she saw him, she saw Joe as he took to the air beneath her, she closed her wings spun, snapped them open and gave chase.

“Give it up Joe! We’ve found you!” Stress singsonged, diving as he swooped, she tried to catch him but missed. She beat her wings hard, swooping up before she could hit the bottom, doing another hairpin turn to chase after Joe… but he was gone.

There were a lot of caves he could have ducked into and with False’s laughter ringing off the walls she couldn’t pinpoint the sound of wings or footsteps. She picked a cave at random, swooping in and landing with a laugh that rang off the walls. Somewhere ahead she heard Joe yelp out in pain, she heard False’s wicked laughter redouble and then silence. Stress fell silent as well, heading that way and soon enough she found her colorless girlfriend crouching on a ledge that overlooked the mouth of the cave.

Below was a wounded Joe, snagging a book off a lectern before running deeper into the cave another direction.

“Now we wait.” False smirked, winking at Stress, to which stress giggled.

“It was right fun terrorizing him.” Stress agreed, leaning against False who wrapped an arm around her. Silently watching as Joe made his way from one tunnel to another, trident in hand, snatching up books and avoiding the very aggravated denizens of the caves. It didn’t take him as long as Stress had thought it would for him to suss out the clue for what it was leading him as he took off out of the mouth of the cave.

Stress cast False a smile and False nodded, Stress took the lead with False close behind her, laughter filling the air. Joe was headed towards the top of the mountain, exactly what they wanted. However… as he reached the last lectern someone cried out.

“Joe!” It was Cleo, who landed on the last lectern at the top of the mountain. There was something powerful… dramatic about the pirate queen. Stress landed on one of the snowy peaks beside False, watching the exchange from a distance as Cleo cast them a baleful look.

--

Impulse stirred first, half draped over Tango but carefully so as not to disturb the cavity in Tango's torso. Impulse lifted his head enough to leave a kiss on Tango's shoulder, drawing a soft hum from the other redstoner. Silently Impulse traced the features of Tango's face, he missed the color, the warmth that belonged there and again he found himself wondering what happened. He found himself trying to think back on their demise… what happened, why did… pain surged forth and he faltered, collapsing. His face buried against Tango's shoulder as an involuntary pained moan escaped him.

"You've got to stop doing that." Tango said gently, waking more fully at the distressed sound.

"Why can I not remember?" Impulse asked, his voice somewhat muffled.

Tango sighed, then with a hand on Impulse's shoulder, rolled so Impulse was on his back and Tango was able to start a rain of kisses. Impulse caught his shoulder and pushed him back.

"Stop avoiding the subject. You're not helping. Just tell me what it is!" Impulse snapped, frustrated. A cold look passed over Tango's face, it was brief but it left behind an angry one.

"No. Just let it go, it's best you don't remember." Tango insisted.

"Why are you siding with that damn book…" Impulse cringed, more pain flooding him for his insolence.

"I'm not." Tango sounded a mixture of hurt and insulted at the insinuation. With an irritated sigh Tango got up, leaving Impulse alone in the bed, storming up the ladder that acted as the back access into the rest of the Deadquarters. Impulse laid there silently, still heart twisting into knots. He and Tango hadn't fought like this since before the prank war…

Impulse mulled about the Deadqarters' actual storage and bedroom for a little while longer but Tango didn't come back. With a heavy hearted sigh Impulse returned to the torture chamber, he'd play along… for now.

--

"It's a trap, it's all a trap we need to get out of here!" Cleo huffed. Her lungs burned as did her wings and legs after the mad dash here. She almost cursed her current mortal state for it but there was a larger concern.

"Cleo! I'm not a fool, I was being careful." Joe protested but she could see panic in his eyes and there was a wound on his left side.

"Fool or not it's time to run!" She said, shooting a glare at False and Stress up on the snowy peak just blocks away. He nodded and together they ran well away from the trap before taking to the air. She saw Joe cast her a worried look but she had this, her wings wouldn't fail her… but she wasn't as fast as Joe either.

He swooped out over the swampy land and she followed as best she could with her fluttering butterfly wings. Behind her she could hear the sounds of Stress and False taking to the air, giving chase. She could hear their wild laughter and it shot a chill through Cleo, it was such a threatening sound. Then all at once Stress was too close, Cleo could feel the buffering of wind from Stress' wings. Then that buffering became all the worse as Stress purposely flew too close, the wind off her wingbeats interrupting Cleo's own painfully.

Then? Then Cleo fell, hurtling towards the ground, she didn't realise at first that she was screaming. Only that the ground was rising up fast to catch her. Fast… but not as fast as Joe.

The enigmatic poet caught her, swooping back up into the air and she could feel the brush of tall grass as he did, her escape from certain doom so slim it made her chest ache. She looked ahead, to see where they were going only to spot Grimdog and Jevin blocking the nether portal. The chaotic cackling continued behind them and Joe cut a tight circle but it seemed like there was nowhere to run. Joe's breathing was heavy, the wound in his side could not be made any better by carrying her around, she knew. His wings beat the air twice more and he cut a tight circle in the air, False and Stress were taunting him, laughing. They cut random patterns through the air, constantly forcing Joe to switch directions until finally he angled hard, sideways and flew into the Deadquarters. Cleo could hear lava bubbling, see it’s glow cast up on the wall but couldn’t see it from the angle that Joe flew, then crashed. The Deadquarter halls were too small for his wings, even fling in sideways there’d been no way to break so instead he and Cleo were left a tangle of limbs on the staircase.

“You okay?” Joe asked in a pained, raspy tone.

“I’m fine, you don’t sound like you are.” Cleo noted, extracting herself to help Joe to his feet. So far False and Stress hadn’t followed them.

“It’s not too bad.” Joe assured her but the words were short, there was no poetic rambling. She checked the wound on his side, a gouge between the ribs, it looked deep and that side of his shirt was bloodsoaked.

“We need to find a place to hide so I can take care of this, Joe it is bad.” Cleo said, looking back to Joe’s face. He had a sort of far off expression as he regarded the dark halls around them, he was too calm and that somehow sent a chill through her. He met her eyes after a moment though and just sort of nodded.

“I smell warmbloods!” Impulse’s voice rolled out from one of the halls, carrying an eerie tone before high pitched, manic giggles followed.

Cleo practically shoved Joe for the stairs and they scrambled up, not wanting anything to do with whatever Impulse had in mind.

“Oh warmbloods, where did you go? I have something to show you…” Impulse called from the hall below, somehow not noticing where they’d gone. His giggles echoed up the stairwell as he passed it again but he didn’t pursue them.

Still, at the top of the stairs Cleo and Joe scrambled down one hall at random, driggering tripwires as they went and Cleo could hear splash potions crashing to the floor just behind them as they rushed into a room at the end of the wing. Joe almost tumbled right over the things in the middle of the room, a chest, a lectern, a crafting bench. It was all terribly suspicious but it was a place Joe could rest his weary bones.

Cleo dug through her pack, coming out of it with bandages, she had Joe hold his shirt out of the way while she tried to staunch the blood flow. She kept glancing back to the doorway, feeling like they were being watched, wholly unnerved being right in the heart of the dead team’s territory like this. Quickly she bandaged Joe up, hoping the quick patch would hold up until they could get somewhere safer.

Laughter echoed down from the other end of the hall and Cleo’s attention snapped that way. It was too dark to see anything but she very much got the impression someone was watching them.

--

Pain… it was all pain, it burned like an angry fire in his back, a rage bubbling from the shoulder of his absent wing. Somewhere he heard screaming and as Wels came into consciousness, with the pain in his throat he realized the one screaming in agony and terror was him. A hand held his, he fell silent, trying to will the nightmare away from the forefront of his mind. He squeezed that hand, Python’s he was sure, he tried to focus on what was around him but that damned drumming rose from the shadows like the claws of some long forgotten evil. He looked to Python, even in the dark he could see the worry in his lover’s eyes. Wels wasn’t really sure why the nightmares had started when they had, this was only the second one since the actual incident. He hadn’t had any nightmares following it directly… at least not that he could remember, nothing this…

“Are you alright?” Python’s voice was soft but cut through Wels’s swimming thoughts like a blade through stocks of sugarcane.

“As much as I can be…” Wels answered, his voice rough, he felt like he could barely hear Python over the noise he was certain no one else was hearing.

“I suppose it’s to be expected, after everything you’ve been through… everything we all have.” Python sighed, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah… It’s normal.” Wels said with a nod, not quite able to offer as comforting a tone as he wished, instead he sounded crass, even annoyed.

“It’ll be alright, I’m here for you.” Python assured, gently leaning down to rest his forehead against Wels’ and all at once it was too much. With a shaky hand Wels shoved Python back, far rougher than he intended.

“No… I… sorry.” Wels’ tone still felt off, it didn’t match how he meant it too, he sounded annoyed and then… sarcastic. It felt like icy needles in his heart with the way Python recoiled from him, pulling his hand away.

“It’s fine… I’ll give you some space.” Wels could hear the pain Python couldn’t quite hide in his voice. 

Wels sat up, he wanted to apologize but he couldn’t trust his own voice, he wanted to catch Python’s hand but suddenly a tremor ran through him at the attempt, stopping him before he could even try. Python walked away, leaving Wels alone on the side of the hanger he was on. He saw Mumbo across the way, Zedaph was closer to the doors, there was no sign of Doc. There was sunlight spilling through the hanger door though so it seemed likely Doc was simply back to working on his strange device. That strange device, he suddenly had the strongest urge to… to mess with the redstone… to remove blocks to…

Wels shook his head hard, trying to cast the horrible thoughts aside. If he did that he could cause all sorts of problems, maybe the device wouldn’t work… or maybe something worse would happen and he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to just… risk hurting the others on some out of place impulse. With a huff he stood, heading for the doors, not letting himself think about the device but needing fresh air nonetheless. It dawned on him as he stepped out into the sunlight that he wasn’t having to ignore the song as much, it was just… it was there, it was starting to feel natural, normal. It was a startling thought.

“Wels… You alright, mate? You’ve been acting a bit weird and Python seems upset.” Mumbo asked, coming up behind him.

“It’s really not any of your business.” Wels snapped before he could even formulate a proper answer, it startled him but he didn’t show it… he couldn’t.

“No, I think it is. This isn’t like you, Wels.” Mumbo said firmly, coming around to give Wels a hard look, a searching look.

“It was just a nightmare, I just need space.” He grumbled in response, unable to voice the rest of what he wanted to say. ‘I hear it, I’m losing.’

Just the realization that he was losing control was terrifying in it’s own right but try as he might he couldn’t claw back the control he’d had just a day ago. The redstone came to his mind again, Doc’s device, he found his eyes had drifted to it. Wels shook his head, closing his eyes and letting out a near feral scream, gripping at his head. He was on his knees before he realized it but he gathered his will and pushed back with everything he had, blocking the song.

“My word, Wels! What’s happened?” Mumbo’s voice cut through the blessed silence and he could hear running footsteps. Wels got back to his feet fast getting away from the others before they could surround him. He had to act fast, before it could wiggle its way back into his head.

“Wels!” Python shouted, coming to a stop beside the concerned looking Mumbo.

“I… I have to go, I can’t stay… if I stay bad things will happen.” Wels said, struggling to get a clear, cohesive explanation to even form in his head.

“We need to stick together-” Zedaph started but Wels cut him off.

“You don’t understand… you aren’t safe… I… I…” It was there, fighting back against his will with a rage, forcing him to struggle, not letting him say what he needed.

“We can work through this, we can help.” Python said, taking a step closer, then another, he wanted to run but suddenly Python had him by the wrist.

“No.” Wels snarled, trying to twist his wrist away but only managing to pull Python closer in the process.

“Just tell me what’s wrong!” Python shouted and Wels wished with everything in his very soul it was that simple… but no matter how hard he tried, the song just got louder and he had to fight that instead. He had to fight the siren call, he had to get away, he had to get as far as he could and as he shoved back against he did the one thing he was left with. He lashed out.

“Stop! Just fuck off! I’ve had enough, we’re over! Let me go!” Wels shouted, twisting his arm at an awkward angle that caused Python to cry out in pain but also let go. Wels turned tail and took off while the shock was still in full effect of the others, leaving them to the confusion and hurt. Wels’ heart twisted painfully at the consequences he knew would come from his harsh words and hasty decision. He loved Python… but that’s why he wanted above all else to keep him safe.

If Wels couldn’t protect himself he sure as hell couldn’t protect anyone else and he’d seen first hand what this ‘game’ twisted Grian into. It hurt deeply to hurt Python like this… but it was better than the alternative. He knew how to disappear if he needed to, and this was one of those times. He vanished into the uncleared trees of Area 77 and ducked through the fence with ease. They wouldn’t find him, he wouldn’t let them.

‘Some knight you turned out to be.’ Wels didn’t recognize the voice that rippled through his mind, but the words stung.

-===-++++-===-+++-===-+++-===-

Cleo sucked in a breath, eyes searching the dark hallway but the room she was in was just a little too bright, she hadn’t even noticed much about the room but as Joe pulled her out of sight of the doorway she realized the walls were lined in redstone lamps, broken up only by masks of the hermit’s faces. Most of the lamps were off now, those around her face, Joe’s and Doc’s were the only ones lit.

“There’s a door here.” Joe said, drawing her attention that way instead, not giving her time to feel creeped out by the overly outlandish hitlist all around them. She let Joe tug her towards the door only to get a deep feeling of dread.

“This is a bad idea.” She said, going tense as his hand settled on the doorknob.

Giggles erupted from somewhere on the floor below, False and Stress had finally come into the building. Joe turned to give Cleo a look, he knew they needed to hide and she was pretty sure they were cornered. Joe let go of her hand to draw his trident instead and she followed the lead, drawing her sword. If they couldn’t hide they’d have to fight. Joe pulled open the door, heading inside without giving the room beyond much of a look… and that was a mistake.

Joe fell from sight as the door slammed closed, his voice shrieking out in agony on the other side. Cleo ripped the door back open with enough force to nearly tear it from its hinges. Her heart felt as if it had stopped, she saw Joe in a hole in the floor, it was too bright in that hole, lava, his wings were burning… his hands clinging to his trident which he’d stabbed into the floor and that was likely the only reason he hadn’t slipped entirely under the surface.

Cleo acted fast, dropping her sword and darting forward to grab Joe’s arms and pull like mad. She heaved, crying out from the effort but stubbornly refusing to let the burning substance take her eccentric poet from her. She dragged him out onto the carpet, his trident thudding to the floor beside him and she quickly set to patting out the flames. She was as gentle as she could be… and tried not to look too closely at his legs. He wouldn’t be walking out of here though.

He stopped screaming and her blood ran cold, her heart collapsing on itself in her chest. No . Her eyes fell to his face as the last of the fires yielded under her hands, he was still breathing but his eyes had a far away look to them, going slightly glassy.

“Joe… just hold on.” She said, voice far less confident than she’d tried to make it sound, digging in her pack for a potion… to her horror she realized that at some point the bottles had shattered, soaking everything half way down. She hadn’t seen it when she’d grabbed bandages in such a rush earlier. Looking back to Joe, he was getting weaker and she scooted closer to caress his face, tears streaming down her own.

“Cleo…” His voice was weak, strained.

“It’s okay… I’m here.” She said shakily, breath hitching in a sob. She could see the light fading from his eyes and it felt like it was taking her heart with it.

“I…” Clearly he wanted to say something, perhaps something ramblingly profound but he didn’t have that kind of time left. However his gaze shifted from her to something behind her and his eyes went wide. His voice raspy as he spoke. “Run…”

She snatched his trident from the floor and spun, but there was nothing but the slightly askew door behind her. She dropped back to her knees and took his hand, bringing it to her face.

“Nice try.” She said, attempting an amused tone but she was in too much pain of her own, it came out trembled and forced.

“I… don’t want… to see…” He said, voice strained as he struggled to hold on, struggled to speak.

“I’m not leaving, you’re not dying alone. I love you.” Cleo said firmly, planting a light kiss on his hand before holding it to her cheek, holding his gaze with her own. He started to say something more but his lips fell motionless half way through, no sound escaping past them. The last of the light faded from his eyes, they went glassy and then she saw as his body broke up into smoldering ash, leaving nothing behind but a few light burns on the carpet.

Cleo crossed her arms over herself, doubling over as an agonized cry escaped, her heart tearing apart as her tears rained upon the crimson carpet at her knees. Her breaths were stuttered, her body shaking, her mind grinding to a halt on all else as she cried. Gasps and coughed sobs, shaking, lost… her heart, it felt as if it was torn apart and crushed all at once, her body felt numb…

Someone laid a hand on her shoulder. Instinct overrode all else and she flung herself away from that touch, rolling across the blocks in the middle of the room to come to her feet. She came up with Joe’s trident brought to bare, rage boiling up to replace the pain, hyper alert replacing the numbness, she couldn’t see her own expression but if she had she’d have seen the fire spilling from her eyes, as if her tears had been ignited.

--

Silently Grian waited, Grian watched, Grian listened.

He saw how Doc slept well away from the others, he saw the fight the one winged one had with the others before running away the next morning. Grian watched all this. He watched the shocked confusion, the shouting, the pain. He watched as Doc came to check on the chaos and Grian watched still as the others went off in search of the runaway hermit.

Grian watched and he waited. This would be a good time to set up a trap… but it would too easily catch an unsuspecting Mumbo and Grian didn’t want that. Grian didn’t really want to hurt the other two either… he was just after Doc.

Just Doc.

So Grian waited.

--

Scar’s heart raced, or at least, it would have if he’d been alive. With the way Iskall had taken so easily to being a Gray Skin right alongside them, with how he’d pin either of them to the crypt walls for intense kisses, it was all Scar could have ever asked for. Like the moment now, Cub had returned sooner than expected and Iskall had rewarded the savvy businessman by pulling him around in a circle before pinning him to the wall. Scar knew that look in Iskall’s eyes and he was more excited for Cub than anything else. The way Cub melted in Iskall’s grasp, how their lips moved, almost like the sway of a slow dance. Then, their lips parted and Iskall glanced over, in a very fluid motion he beckoned Scar.

Well, who was Scar to refuse?

He sauntered over, fully aware of what to expect and shivering with anticipation. Iskall grabbed him by the shirt, pinned him to the wall and pressed his body against him, their lips meeting was like a wildfire ignited in his heart. Scar trembled under Iskall’s touch, entirely at his mercy… but not only his.

Cub leaned in, pulling at Scar’s shirt to grace a line of kisses along his shoulder, up his neck, along his jaw then he assumed the pattern continued along Iskall’s jaw. Especially with the way Iskall seemed to melt suddenly, it was deeply satisfying. Scar’s hand found it’s way around to grasp Cub’s own, his other hand playing in Iskall’s hair.

Really… unlife was perfect.

--

Cleo’s rage filled eyes locked on the sympathetic gaze of Grimdog’s, there was nothing threatening in his posture but she didn’t trust that.

“It would be easy to take you down… but I don’t want to, I do but it’s not my want. Cleo. Run. Get away from this place, it’s death.” He said firmly, levely and she could tell he was telling the truth. She backed away from him until she was near the hall, then she turned and ran, she dashed down the stairs before despair could grasp her again. She heard giggling as she reached the first floor, looking across the lava trap she saw False and Stress standing in the doorway, all giggles and kisses, there was no way Cleo could safely get past them. She ducked into one of the halls before they could see her, not thinking to look that way first. Suddenly there was a hand clamped over her mouth, another one tightly gripping her trident hand. She tried to scream but whoever had her pulled tighter, yanking her backwards a few stumbling steps.

“Shhh.” A voice hissed into her ear gently, still she was being tugged backwards. Panic surged and she struggled, trying to bite the hand, trying to wrench her arm free but the grasp was too firm, the undead matching her own strength far too easily for her liking. She was still being dragged back, despite her muffled screams and kicking.

She was dragged down a set of stairs and her blood ran cold again, fear surged in her heart and she struggled all the more violently. As her eyes graced the various armorstands held in torture devices… one wore her mask… suddenly the fear reached a depth, with her inability to escape, that sent her entirely paralized. All she could think was that… she’d be joining Joe soon… but not before she suffered.

--

“Where did Keralis go?” Xisuma asked after a while and Bdubs was drawn from his thoughts, glancing around. They’d found a nice spot in the swamp filled with flowers to just be lazy and enjoy each other… but Xisuma was right, Keralis was absent.

“You know, I have no idea.” Bdubs said, sitting up. He looked over the flowers, he looked around past, he didn’t see their shortest boyfriend.

“Well… I suppose we should go find him.” Xisuma said, pulling himself to his feet then offering Bdubs a hand, the builder accepted, letting the Hermit Leader pull him up. Xisuma didn’t let go of his hand as he turned towards the nether portal and Bdubs found himself glad for that. He kept his hold on Xisuma’s hand in return, daring to let his heart flutter a bit at the feeling… it was something he hadn’t allowed himself to enjoy in a long… long time. They stepped into the nether and walked the bright orange tunnel in silence, Xisuma seemed to have some idea of where they were going so he just allowed himself to be pulled along.

They hit the main tunnel and Xisuma glanced over at him, there was a smile in his eyes and Bdubs smiled in return. It was stange, such a dire situation, so much on the line… yet Xisuma wasn’t the least bit worried. Bdubs wasn’t sure if he should be comforted or worried by that fact. At the same time he was still reeling from the fact that both Xisuma and Keralis loved him, it felt so far out of nowhere.

“You alright?” Xisuma asked softly, they’d been walking for a bit, so far down the tunnel there wasn’t much to distinguish one end from the other.

“Just a lot on my mind, that’s all Xisuma.” Bdubs admitted, giving Xisuma’s hand a squeeze.

“I know it’s a lot to take in… but you’re the one that pushed it.” Xisuma pointed out softly.

“I didn’t know you two both had feelings for me!” Bdubs scoffed, giving Xisuma a look but the Leader only laughed.

“Part of me feels like I wasn’t good enough about hiding my feelings.” Xisuma noted.

“I think you were obvious about Keralis, and him about you. I just… if you two were as obvious with me I just missed it.” Bdubs sighed.

“I suppose that would be easy enough, you… weren’t looking for new love, after all.” Xisuma said gently and Bdubs closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

“Yeah… I’m not against it… but I… I don’t know that there’s enough left of me not to leave you both disappointed.” Bdubs said honestly and he felt Xisuma rubb the hand he was holding.

“That’s alright… we love you, it’s worth it just to have you close, to do what we can to see your heart healed. Maybe we can’t replace Etho, but we don’t mean to.” Xisuma explained, tone ever so gentle… still the name brought up an old ache in Bdubs’ chest that made him feel years older than he was. For all the pain he’d suffered at the loss of Etho… He missed the hermit deeply, a hole in his heart that honestly, never would be filled.

“I know he wouldn’t have wanted me to suffer the rest of my life, to be alone.” Bdubs said softly after a moment then let out a long sigh. “It isn’t easy to move on, but for me… I need to. I don’t know that my heart will ever be the same but, I love you both, I’ll do my best to show it.”

That smile was in Xisuma’s eyes again and the leader paused, pulling his helmet off. Bdubs smiled, Xisuma’s hair being a mess from the helmet was a heartwarming sight. The hermit leader turned his attention fully back on Bdubs, that warm smile on his face again. Bdubs’ heart did a little flip at the sight, to see that kind of love again. It hurt equal amounts as it warmed. Xisuma tucked his helmet under his arm so he wouldn’t have to let go of Bdubs’ hand, reaching his now free hand up to caress Bdubs cheek.

That ache in his heart wasn’t lightening, but the other feelings, those feelings of love stirred from their deep slumber and steadily grew much stronger than that pain. Bdubs found himself leaning closer, invitingly and Xisuma met him half way, the world fell away, Bdubs felt like he was floating as their lips met, his heart souring. It was a beautiful feeling… a feeling he’d thought he’d lost forever.

--

Her heart hammered in her chest, her breaths came in muffled sobs, it was all over and she knew it. At least… she thought she did. She was dragged past the the various tourture devices filled with stand-in armor stands, not pushed into any of them. Instead she was pushed against a wall, turned to face her kidnapper. His hand was still over her mouth but he looked at her with a stern intensity in his eyes.

It was Impulse.

“Cleo… Please, get out of here, hide, stay alive… and bring this nightmare to an end. I’m begging you… save us.” Impulse said, his tone wavering, like he was struggling for control, but the look in his eyes, there was a sharp clarity. There was pain and struggle. He was fighting against the call of demise, he was fighting to give her a chance. He struck a hidden button and shoved her through a hole in the wall.

She stumbled into a large cavern as the hidden door closed again. Glancing around she saw a pool of water nearby, it was the only thing of interest so she headed that way. Looking into the murky water she spotted a light source at the bottom, a rippling movement from there. She slipped into the water, wings tight against her back. Swimming in, she realized the source of light was a hole in the stone and she slipped through, letting the water carry her down as her wings were now too wet to let her fly. She picked her way through the swamp quietly, sneaking along the dry land once she reached it. To her relief, the nether portal wasn’t guarded anymore. She had never flung herself into a nether portal so hard in her life and once on the other side she was running. Not into the tunnels though, no, she had other plans. Her wings dried fast in the hot nether and she was flying before she was in any danger. She zipped through the air as fast as she could possibly go.

She had to hide. Impulse was right. Joe was dead.

Joe was dead.

Dead.

--

Their search had been fruitless and Doc was more than a little frustrated with Wels, they didn’t need this right now, what was going on with him? Well… Doc had thought of one thing but it was more than a little troubling and he really hoped he was wrong. If he wasn’t though… Perhaps Wels going on the run was for the best. Doc couldn't be sure though, all he knew now was Python was distraught and the other two were upset as well.

With a heavy sigh Doc flew back up to the top of his time roller, continuing the extensive amount of work with more focus. He had a crawling feeling in his shoulders, it felt like he was being watched. He kept glancing around, it made it hard to focus, the harder he tried the more he felt like danger was lurking right behind him… right above him. Every time he thought he heard something he’d look to see nothing there, nothing around. More and more tense, Doc’s work slowed to a crawl, it was so intricate, it needed such finite attention…

Finally, Doc called it a night and flew back down to the ground, looking to the now smaller group of friends with worry. Python… he was just curled into a ball and leaned against Mumbo who looked understanding in a heavy hearted sort of way. Doc joined them, accepting food as Zedaph handed it to him. They sat together in silence, the sun setting, washing most of area 77 in darkness. Hanz and Franz seemed almost as on edge as he felt, the way they curled around him gave him the distinct impression they were trying to protect him from the unseen threat.

--

False smiled, she felt like she was constantly smiling now. There was good reason though, with Stress at her side, the two of them were unstoppable. Chasing Cleo and Joe had been fun… but it had grown dull, False figured the Deadquarters would do its purpose now. So here they would stay for now, at the entrance, blocking any hope of escape. While they waited though…

False gently pushed her giggly girlfriend to the doorframe, catching her attention before kissing her. It still felt like her heart would float away with her when she did, there was no greater feeling than Stress’ lips on hers. As they ‘guarded’ the door False was content to have a bit of fun. Stress’ hands trailed up False’s sides to caress her cheek with one hand and glide through her hair with the other. Their lips parted only for giggles to spill free, dancing on the air with the carelessness of their happiness.

Stress wrapped her arms around False, spinning and pinning her to the doorframe next and before False could protest or respond she was being drowned in affection. The ice queen was almost aggressive in the way she followed kiss after kiss up False’s neck then gently bite her earlobe. False let out a soft gasp, practically melting under Stress’ touch. Time seemed to melt away, there was only she and Stress and she’d have it no other way, she just wanted more kisses… more...

--

No.

It was too soon.

No… Anything… anything but this.

Rendog’s blood ran cold as he took in the sight before him. He’d been summoned by the book’s power… he was about to witness another death.

The last death.

Grimdog didn’t have long to do something… the book wouldn’t let him stop this death from happening… but he could do something to protect a couple of innocent bystanders. He moved quickly, much to Grain’s startlement, scooping up a pair of foxes and taking off again before either could wake. He got them far from range of what was about to happen, dropping them in a hole they couldn’t get out of on their own before the spell snapped him right back to where it had put him in the first place.

Grimdog was forced to watch the death he never wanted to have to see. His jaw clenched as he took the sight in. The big obsidian box, the tripwires wrapped around a sleeping and unsuspecting Doc, the TNT minecarts primed and ready. He saw Grian scarpering a safe distance away, his fist in a white knuckle grip on his trident as he was left to stare at Doc… the moment he moved…  it would be over.

Moving… was inevitable.

There was nothing to be done.

He was here, there wasn’t enough time..

Sure enough.

Doc moved.

The tripwires wrapped around his arms were pulled.

Everything went white and Grimdog was thrown back, his ears ringing so hard he hadn’t quite realized he’d hit the ground. It took a moment for his senses to return to normal, as they did though he heard shouting. Sitting up he saw Mumbo, Python and Zedaph were running around the obsidian box… Grian was well out of sight but Grimdog could hear the barely contained laughter.

With a frustrated sigh Grimdog pulled himself up and slipped off. He collected Doc’s foxes before heading for the nether portal. The fuzzy little critters were very upset and nippy, they kept biting at his arms and his robes but he held them snug anyway. He knew how much they meant to Doc and he wasn’t going to let any harm befall them. They’d be safest in his crypt.

The trip back was slow and irritating to some extent but with a newly perforated arm he stepped back into the graveyard. He first went down into his crypt and settled the foxes, upset as they were they couldn’t get back up the ladder on their own. Just to be sure though, he secured them with leads. The barked and made other strange noises at him but they didn’t appear to be injured so he didn’t worry about it.

With a tired huff Grimdog climbed back up and made his way to the graves. It was strange, he could feel the ‘game’ was over. Nothing had changed yet though. He set to digging, Joe’s grave first but he already had a plan in mind for Doc’s.

---

Mumbo sighed heavily, sitting down on the edge of the obsidian. There was nothing left, everything had been caught in the explosion inside the box and Doc… Doc was gone. Rain started the pitter and patter to the ground but none landed on the redstoner himself. Looking up Mumbo saw why, of course, the glass disk of the time roller. Mumbo closed his eyes and shook his head. He’d looked at Doc’s notes before, talked to Doc about the machine but honestly… it made absolutely no sense to him. He wasn’t sure… no, he knew he couldn’t finish it.

Looking to his two remaining companions… they looked about as demoralized as he felt. Python had already been a mess after Wels had left but now… now this. Without Doc… it really did feel like there was no hope left.

“There’s no point staying here… let’s head to my base.” Mumbo suggested, wanting to get away from that book to regroup. The other two nodded and with heavy hearts they set off for the portal, without Wels there was no reason to stay grounded so they took to the air. Something about the world around Mumbo felt so… empty now. It was too quiet.

Too quiet…

As if…

Everyone was dead.

--

Grian returned to the graveyard, he didn’t really know what else to do, he felt… strange. Looking around at the other members of the dead team gathered he realized they probably did too. There was a bit of tension in those nearest the graves. As if they were worried about something.

“What’s going on?” Grian asked Rendog as he approached.

“Demise is over… but we’re all still dead… we don’t know where Cleo is and… I’m not sure the two runner ups are going to wake up.” Grimdog explained and Grian glanced at the two dug up graves.

“How long does it usually take?” Grian asked, concerned.

“About a day, it hasn’t been long enough yet.. But there’s a change in the air… something is… different.” Grimdog frowned, watching the graves stoically.

“I bet it’ll be alright.” Grian offered, settling in a patch of grass next to Scar, reaching over to pet Jellie.

So they waited.

The dead waited.

Hours and hours in silence.

The dead waited.

In dead silence…

They

Waited

…

Then finally, there was the creak of a coffin lid opening and Grian relaxed the tension in his shoulders, watching as Joe stood, coming into sight. He looked around, looking vaguely confused but mostly tired. He climbed out of his grave, his wings were charred looking.

“Welcome, Brother.” Grimdog said but Joe just looked at him wordlessly before wandering away, heading for the chapel, which was his build to be fair. Grimdog shrugged, crossing his arms and pushing away from the headstone he’d been leaning on. He headed for his own crypt.

Quietly, from inside the chapel there was a clatter. Then more rattling.. Followed by Joe’s voice softly just letting out one long sound. More clatters then all went quiet.

“I’ll go talk to him. I’m sure Doc will be awake soon.” Cub sighed, standing.

Some of the others nodded and the Vex was off, leaving the graveyard silent once more. Silence as the others slowly wandered off. Curious Grian stood and looked into the other grave, Doc’s grave, but it was already empty.

“Rendog moved him to his Crypt.” Jevin supplied.

“Oh, I see.” Grian chuckled.

--

Slowly he came back to himself, slowly he felt his body whole again. Doc’s mind slowly rose to consciousness, remembering what had happened. Nearby he heard Hanz and Franz gekkering, accompanied by thumps and rattles as the foxes played. Doc also came to realize someone was holding his hand and finally he opened his eyes even in the low light he was able to make out Ren’s form.

“Guess I lost.” Doc muttered and Ren nodded.

“You did… I really wish you had won, I didn’t want to see you die. At least… it was fast.”

“Yeah, it was, I don’t remember anything.” Doc admitted.

“Grian got you in your sleep with TNT minecarts.” Ren explained.

“Oh! Shit! Is everyone else okay?” Doc asked, sitting up and glancing at the foxes… they both still had color. Which… of course they did.

“Yeah, the blast was contained and I was able to get those two to safety before it was too late.” Ren said and Doc turned back towards his undead boyfriend. The level of worry coloring Ren’s face was almost surprising, but then, Doc realized Ren was finally able to relax around him. After all, he was already dead, the instinct to kill him wouldn’t be there now. Doc found himself free of any drive to cause problems or set traps though, he’d half expected it the way the others had acted. He shrugged the thought aside, reaching up to grab Rendog by the middle of his robes and haul him into the sarcophagus with him.

Ren stumbled in and it was all too easy for Doc to catch his lips, the cold was less bothersome than it had before and Doc found himself just happy to kiss his boyfriend again. He ran a hand through Ren’s hair and he heard Ren’s trident clatter to the floor before a gentle caress graced the natural side of Doc’s face. Doc ran his other hand down Ren’s back as the kiss continued, their lips chasing each other with the passion of long estranged lovers. In that moment everything else fell away, there was no concern about being dead, there was no care towards the dark magic that brought them to this point. No, there was only each other, their shared love and the banishment of the loneliness both had suffered while apart. The longing was over, the fear was done with, it was just passion hot enough to warm their cold bodies as if their very souls had been lit ablaze.

Responsibilities, plans, plots. They flew from Doc’s mind in the wake of that long craved kiss. Nothing else mattered really… as long as he still had Ren, as long as the hermits were still relatively safe, as long as they could continue on from here.

That’s what mattered.

For now… for now his attention was solely Ren’s.

--

“Joe… what the hell are you doing?” Cub demanded, watching the other hermit who was just… standing in the middle of one of the Deadquarters halls.

“OOooooOOOooo!” Came the enigmatic poet’s reply, his tone making it sound like that should answer everything. He shook the chains he’d dawned for emphasis and Cub sighed heavily.

“We really should go look for Cle-” Cub started but Joe cut him off.

“ OOoooOOOOooOOoOoooOOoo !!” He practically shouted, rattling his chains harder.

“Fine, you.. You do that Joe.” Cub said with a shake of his head and turned to go up the stairs. He headed up to the top to glance over the location of all placed traps again, making sure he wouldn’t be caught by surprise by anything. Cub didn’t know if Cleo knew she’d won but he intended to track her down and tell her, if not. He wasn’t sure what was going on but he was fairly certain this uneasiness the dead were all feeling was related to the game being set in a state of limbo until Cleo was properly rewarded. That was his guess anyway. With his knowledge of the traps refreshed Cub headed back down the stairs and… he wasn’t prepared for what he found but there it was.

Joe still had his chains, he was still acting the part of a ghost that he was not but he was no longer alone. Impulse and Scar had both joined him. There was so much chain rattling and ‘ooOOooing’ that Cub almost felt like he’d stumbled across some new form of music. He blinked at the group in surprise before sighing, watching Scar, Scar was adorable with anything he did and suddenly all the chain rattling was far less annoying. He left the three be, to dance around rattling chains and pretending to be ghosts.

--

It was over.

She wasn’t sure how she knew…

But she knew.

Cleo picked herself up, gathering her belongings and slowly making her way back out of the long netherrack tunnel she’d cut into the wilderness. Once free of the large crag jutting out over a sea of lava. She leapt into the air, letting her wings flitter and carry her back towards the main tunnels. She slipped in easily enough. All was quiet, all was still. It was eerie, dystopian feeling and Cleo absolutely hated it. She felt all alone, her stomach twisted at the thought that, with demise over, the others may have just… stopped. That the dead team may have perished… she didn’t know for sure but the fear lurked.

Finally she made it to the portal into the games district, she passed through carefully but no traps had been set on that portal, luckily. There was a path leading from the portal to the main path, that was new since she’d last been here and she treaded carefully. The game might be over… but that didn’t mean there weren’t traps everywhere so she watched her step. Someone had planted a tree in front of the demise board and that too… seemed suspicious so she ignored it and looked to the board. All masks save hers were on the dead team side. Looking up the skeletal hand was filled with so many glittering diamond blocks… so many.

So many pointless blocks of aqua that wouldn’t fill the hole in her heart, never had victory ever felt so hollow. They wouldn’t bring back the demised hermits, they wouldn’t do any good at all really. That’s when…  that’s when she heard it.

It called to her, enticing her, whispering promises of greater gain if she took it to further away lands, to new people.

For the first time she heard it and Cleo, master of the seas, a pirate queen, was familiar with the call of a siren. Slightly different as it might be, she recognized it for what it was, for it’s siren song. So that was what had befallen her fellow Hermits, it all made sense, it clicked in her mind. That song, her eyes fell to its source, that sound emanating from the book of Demise as well as a faint glow. Snarling Cleo raised Joe’s trident into the air and let it fly. The tines of the weapon stabbed into the book, the siren call turning into a shriek of agony. Cleo hadn’t heard the books voice before, she’d missed it before because she’d been a zombie when she signed up. This was clearly something meant for the living, something enticing and entrancing but she wouldn’t fall for it.

This evil thing had no sway over her.

She walked over and took hold of the trident, wrenching the book off the lectern with a dark smile on her face, watching as ink dripped from the damage the trident had done with satisfaction. Just as she drew in a breath to berate the thing she heard something else, something close-

Cleo darted slightly to the side, narrowly missing a blade, the swing slit her cheek before the finely crafted blade buried into the demise board.

Chapter Text

Cleo spun back, pulling the trident in close and up to block as another swing came down on her. She met Wels’ eyes, they were empty… void of Anything . Wels' sword slid across the shaft of the trident with a horrifying shriek that bit at Cleo's eardrums in the most unpleasant way. It was enough of a shock that she didn't realize at first the point of it, not soon enough to stop him. All too soon Wels had the Demise book tucked into his chestplate.

“Damn it, Wels!” Cleo snapped, jumping back to gain more ground but he spun his sword and started towards her again.

“Wels isn’t here, only the Envoy.” He stated, charging her and she brought the trident up to block again, twisting to send the sword out wide and kicking the possessed knight. He caught her leg and twisted, sending her into a roll. Cleo came up on her feet fast, she backed away again. She didn’t want to hurt Wels but it seemed very much like the Envoy intended to kill her.

She narrowed her eyes, staying just out of reach, moving in a circle as they stared each other down. If he wanted her dead… either she’d pissed off the book or she was an actual threat to it’s plans. Honestly, she hoped it was both. He charged again and again she defended, the trident wasn’t the best weapon for this but she knew she didn’t have time to switch. With his sword knocked out wide she did the unexpected move, stepping inside his range, far inside her own and struck at his face. He ducked but she sent his helmet flying. The Envoy caught her with his elbow and flung her back a few steps but she stayed on her feet.

“Come on now Cleo, we don’t have to fight. You realize with the game at its end, if you die here… you die for good. So instead, why don’t we start it again?” The Envoy offered.

“Are you… are you kidding me?” She snapped, rage bubbling up. That… that was something she wouldn’t allow.

“No, I’m quite serious. Let’s start the game again.” The Envoy said with a dark smile before darting towards her again, this time she caught the blade between the tines, locking their weapons in a struggle of pure strength.

“Damn it, Wels! I know you’re still in there you goddamned idiot! I can and will kick your fucking ass! How does someone with so much decipline and such a strong will get turned into such a fucking puppet? ‘Oh I’ll start the game over again, Demise! Oh I’ll kill whoever you want, Demise! Come over here and give your loyal knight a kiss of eternal life, Demise!’ Get your head out of your goddamned ass, Wels, and snap the fuck out of it!” Cleo roared at him, twisitng their weapons to the side and headbutting the helmless knight hard enough to knock him to the ground.

Quickly Cleo whipped the trident around to bear again, the tines angled at Wels’ face but… she saw struggle there now… and she saw the edge of the book. Cleo darted down, stabbing the trident near Wels’ face as a distraction and snatching the book, ripping it free from under his armor.

“Get… get out of my head!” Wels roared and Cleo turned and dashed, an idea striking her she made a mad dash for the mini shops nearby, aiming for Scar’s shop because she knew it’d have what she was looking for. Without any regard to the shop being closed Cleo crashed through the glass with a swing of the trident, she’d replace it later, right now it wasn’t a concern. Cleo dropped to her knees beside the enderchest, she opened the book and took a fistfull of pages in her hand, primed to rip them free.

"Tell me how to bring everyone back, how to undo this and maybe I won't keelhaul you until you disintegrate." Cleo snarled, feeling the book’s pained shrill of a call yielded under her threat. She heard the change in the song as it conveyed to her what needed to be done to break the spell. The book was actually  afraid of her so the information seemed genuine. Its instructions were clear, no riddles, no tricks.

“Cleo… I can’t…” Wels’ voice came from the broken window and she glanced to the Knight, he was struggling to hold control. Cleo snorted, amused the book though it would get the drop on her that way. Turning she tossed the book into the enderchest, as soon as she closed the lid Wels let out a relieved sigh. “It stopped…”

Cleo could still hear it but it was muffled, she was just relieved the idea had worked. Still the weight of the task before her pulled on her shoulders, tugged at the edges of her expression.

“Cleo?” Wels asked, he sounded a bit rough. Cleo turned, to face him fully and offer a smile.

“Everything is going to be alright, Wels. I know what to do, I’m going to fix this.” She said walking over and stepping out of the shop before pausing to wrap her friend in a hug. “I’m glad you snapped out of it, I didn’t want to have to hurt you.”

“Cleo… I don’t like your tone, what are you going to do?” Wels asked, returning the hug before she stepped back. The grave level of concern on his face… it must have reflected her own, calm resignation.

“Don’t worry about it. Just stay back and wait. You shouldn’t have been dragged this far into this. I put the book in my enderchest, that seems to have silenced it for everyone but me, if you’re anything to go by.” She offered. Wels took a deep breath.

“Yeah, seems so.” He still looked worried but he let her go. She nodded to him, turned and took to the air. She made her way towards Falsewell. Her plan formulated quickly, she knew what she needed to do, she knew it was dangerous and her chance of survival was slim. But for those she loved, for the hermits… for Joe.

It was worth the risk.

Cleo landed outside the museum and headed inside, nerves going a bit on edge as she pushed the door open. It was so quiet, so still everywhere...

“Carol… I need a favor.”

--

Unsure what to do now Wels repaired Scar’s shop window, retrieved his helmet and headed back towards Area 77. He wasn’t sure where the others would be now, or if they’d even want anything to do with him but now that he was free.

That look on Python’s face twisted his heart like trees being uprooted in a storm. He desperately wanted to apologize. To explain. He wasn’t sure he’d be forgiven but he had to try.

He found Area 77 empty though… no one was around but he spotted evidence of a trap, all that was left was an obsidian box where… where Doc had been keeping his bed. Wels let out a long, tired sigh. He should have guessed, from finding Cleo by demise, but the memories were hazy. With no indication where they might be now Wels just sort of sat by the obsidian box in silence. Cleo was up to something… he hoped it would work and that she’d be alright. Remembering the look in her eyes though, he wasn’t so sure. Pain had gripped those green eyes, but they’d burned with a determination he wished he could actually match when it mattered. Clearly, after what’d happened he was lacking something there. The strained smile, the barely contained tears, he’d read it from her though. Cleo had the look of someone about to give up their life for a greater purpose and that… that scared him.

--

Xisuma drew in a sharp breath and coughed, startled at having the need to breathe at all. He took a moment to sort himself out, one moment he’d been standing in the graveyard and then… then he was here. Xisuma pushed himself up, still trying to readjust to the feeling of…

The feeling of being alive.

The realization hit hard and Xisuma scrambled to his feet, looking around, he was in the games district. He was the first awake but all the rest of the dead team were scattered around, alive and healthy from the looks of it. Xisuma was deeply relieved and he glanced around further, it appeared only the dead team were here though. Looking to the board he could see all the masks lying scattered across the ground. The book was gone and the diamonds were obscured by a tree. Well, for all he knew Cleo had claimed them.

There was a grunt from nearby and Xisuma looked to see Tango was pushing himself up off the ground and dusting himself off. He looked dazed but otherwise alright, most of the other hermits were stirring now, not Grian though. Grian was out cold still.

“It… it was me…. It was me I did it it was me oh… no nonono it was me IT WAS ME! I KILLED US I…!!!” Impulse screamed suddenly. Xisuma’s attention snapped to him but Tango was already scrambling over to his lover, wrapping him in a hug.

“Stop, it’s alright, stop Impulse… Impulse.” Tango said, holding Impulse tight and rocking his weight gently from one foot to the other, causing them to sway. “Listen to me, listen-”

“I killed us! I set the trap i made the net it was me I-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s over, Impulse I love you, I love you, I forgive you it’s okay.”

“It’s not, I… I.” Impulse stammered, his words going incomprehensible but then, Tango still seemed to understand, rubbing comforting circles on Impulse’s back and keeping that calm, loving tone.

“Shh, It’s okay now, demise is over, we’re alive, check it out it’s like nothing ever happened! It’s okay… Impulse it’s okay, you’re fine, I’m fine, just breathe okay? Just breathe.” Tango continued and steadily Impulse seemed to relax, seemed to calm down even though he broke into sobs.

Everyone tensed and startled at the sound that came next. An agonized, shocked and horrified wail cut through the air like a blade. It was Joe’s voice. Xisuma rushed over and then followed Joe’s horrified gaze up… up to the skeletal hand holding…

Holding…

Those… 

Those didn’t look like diamonds anymore.

The aqua hue had traded out for a dark, ruddy red, filled with black cracks, further up the pile they gleamed with… blood.

Draped over the top of the pile was Cleo, she was motionless and pale, blood dripped from her fingers, her hand hanging listlessly over the edge of the highest blocks.

“Oh dear…” Xisuma muttered weakly but he put his wings into motion, flying up to stand on the tainted diamonds. Gently he put his fingers to Cleo’s neck…

No pulse.

Gently he turned her over, settling her into a less awkward position on the diamonds and it was gruesomely obvious how she’d died… there was a stab wound through her chest, it was messy, indicating she’d likely done it herself. It was more than enough to lead to the amount of blood spilled down the diamond pile, looking her over though, that’s when he noticed a mark on her arm… a bite mark. That caught his attention, it looked strange, infected even. Zombie bite it was a zombie bite he realized and quickly he reached for his innate power as a Leader. To his relief his powers were not muted anymore. He quickly checked on all of his hermits. Everyone was healthy and alive… Cleo’s tether to the world was weak but he recognized it, this wasn’t the first time her tether had been like this.

“Smart Cleo…” He said quietly then looked back to where Joe was crumpled in the grass. “Joe! Joe it’s not too late, get up here!”

Joe’s attention snapped to him and his wings beat not a second later, propelling the poet up to stand beside him. Slowly Joe knelt and checked on Cleo himself. He took note of her arm and took a steadying breath. Ever so carefully he scooped Cleo up into his arms and glided back down to the ground. Xisuma followed after, the diamonds… or whatever they’d been transmuted into, made him uneasy. Glancing around it was all worried gazes, though Grian was still unconscious, of course… he’d lost the most memories, perhaps that was why.

“What… what happened to her?” False asked quietly. Doc was looking from Cleo to the tainted diamonds.

“She broke the spell.” Rendog said heavily, kneeling beside where Joe had sat with Cleo cradled in his arms.

“How do you know?” Xismua asked.

“As first dead I was granted a lot of power and a lot of information… it was a good thing Doc snapped me loose from the book’s control when he did or things would have been much worse.” Rendog explained.

“Glad I could do something to help.” Doc sighed, glancing back to Cleo.

“How’d she break the spell?” Joe asked and Xisuma didn’t miss the way his voice cracked.

“To break the spell of demise, to free the dead… the winner must sacrifice their own life. Only once their blood and last breath has coated the prize pool, only once their heart has stopped, is the curse lifted.” Rendog explained, glancing up at the tainted diamonds. “The prize has to be something like diamonds or emeralds, something of that nature to conduct and contain the crux of the spell. Basically… the spell we all cast by signing the book and supplying the diamonds.”

“Then… if there’s that much power behind this spell… is she going… will she wake up?” Joe’s voice was so weak as he asked the question it made Xisuma’s heart ache.

“For now all we can do is trust she knew what she was doing.” Bdubs said, kneeling beside Joe and resting a hand on his shoulder. “We are all here for you, no matter what.”

“Cleo you’d better come out of this… like you always do.” Joe said, closing his eyes and resting his head against hers. If not for the sun being so high in the sky Xisuma might not have caught the glint of Joe’s tears. With a heavy sigh Xisuma turned, checking on the others a moment before reaching through his connection with the land to track down the four absent hermits.

Xisuma caught hold of the essence of Wels, further off was Mumbo, Zedaph and Python. With gold light crawling up his wings, cascading over his shoulders and wrapping his hands, Xisuma reached through the fabric of reality to teleport the four missing hermits there.

“Oh my word!” Mumbo said, hurrying right over to Grian’s side and kneeling beside him.

“Eh… everyone’s alive!” Zed exclaimed but his excitement drained when he spotted Cleo. “Oh… oh no.”

“Damn it, Cleo.” Wels sighed heavily, it almost seemed like he knew something.

“Did you know she was going to do this?” Xisuma asked.

“She said she’d fix things… I was suspicious but… I didn’t know exactly what she had in mind.” Wels admitted.

“Any idea what happened to the book?” Xisuma asked and Wels nodded.

“It’s in her enderchest, only she could hear it after she put it there.”

“I see… that explains a bit.”

“Fascinating.” Doc quipped.

“There’s no question in it then… Cleo saved us.” Cub said, a surliness to his tone but also a level of worry… they all had that level of worry. The conversation couldn’t carry any further though, as for the third time that day a scream cut through the air. It was a blood curdling, ear splitting roar of absolute despair and fear. Mumbo tried to wrap Grian in a hug but the builder flailed frantically. The scream died out when he had to stop for air only for him to curl into a tight ball, gripping his head.

“Stop stop stop i don’t want to it isn’t me stop stop stop, make it stop help me HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE make it stop make it stop I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS. someone help stop stop it please stop it. I don’t want this… i’m sorry… I’m sorry! It won’t stop it has my hands it won’t stop it won’t stop make it stop!” Grian cried out, the rambling continuing seemingly endlessly. Mumbo pulled Grian into his arms then, but the builder couldn’t hear Mumbo over his own ramblings. Xisuma went to kneel beside them, trying to catch the builder’s attention but there was just no getting through to him. Finally Xisuma looked to Mumbo.

“I’ll send you both to his base, stay with him and I’ll be along shortly.” Xisuma instructed and Mumbo nodded. With that Xisuma gathered his power again to teleport the two to Grian’s base. That handled he turned to the others.

Impulse still had his face buried against Tango’s shoulder, held tightly in his lover’s arms. Cleo was still motionless and the rest still looked worried. It hit Xisuma then that they might want to get Cleo out of the sun for the time being, teleporting her in this state though, it was risky.

“Is there somewhere nearby Cleo could safely be taken to?”

“Falsewell isn’t far, she can stay in my house there.” False offered.

“Thank you, that’s mighty kind of you False.” Joe said, his voice was still rough, worse now even.

“It’s no trouble, let’s go.” False said gently and Stress looped a hand under Joe’s arm to help him to his feet while he kept hold of Cleo. Stress took off ahead and False walked beside Joe as they headed off.

“Well… I suppose we don’t exactly need the Time Roller now.” Doc muttered, looking off towards Area 77.

“Yeah I’m not really interested in ripping apart the space time continuum just to fix my wing.” Wels noted dryly.

“I mean it would also be for science-” Doc started but Xisuma cut him off.

“I saw what some of those things you were mucking around with over there can do. No more time related shenanigans. I’m putting my foot down on that.” Xisuma said firmly.

“Fine fine, have it your way.” Doc shrugged, looking back to Wels. “So a mechanical wing it will have to be.”

“I’m fine with that. We can worry about it later though.” Wels said, turning to catch Python’s eyes. Doc nodded, going back over to Rendog.

Xisuma saw Wels gently lay a hand on Python’s shoulder, but their conversation was too quiet and too far off for him to catch. With a heavy sigh he turned to the rest of the hermits present.

“We need to disarm the remaining traps, the lands are a minefield.” He stated and Cub went a little pale, looking guilty.

“Yeah… there’s tnt under that tree.” Tango noted thoughtfully.

“Guess we better get to work.” Jevin sighed.

--

Cleo woke slowly, her mind feeling hazy, but it was a familiar haze, she’d been through this once before. She felt… much more herself. She blinked open her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She was laying in a bed that wasn’t hers but she’d slept here before. This was False’s Falsewell place… interesting. Cleo rolled onto her side in the bed and went dead still. Her eyes falling upon a sleeping face she thought she might never see again.

“Joe!” Cleo cried, not considering he was asleep, or that she was a zombie, none of that came into consideration as she pinned him down and kissed him. Quickly his arms wrapped around her, the kiss returned, making her still heart dance, figuratively at least. When finally their lips parted Joe spoke.

“I was afraid you’d never wake up, like some long overtold fairy tail at its core.” Joe’s voice was soft and just hearing his odd turns of phrase made her want to cry. She hugged him tightly, burying her face against the crook of his neck.

“I guess that makes us even right?” She was surprised by how shaky her tone was, it had honestly rattled her to her core to lose Joe… but then there hadn’t been time for her to really grieve.

“I guess it kinda does… That was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen in my life Cleo… don’t do that to me again, please. I can’t bear the thought of ever losing you again and… I don’t want you to suffer though that again either.”

“Wait, what are you saying?” Cleo asked, lifting her face from his neck.

“I’m saying I want to join you in your eternal dance. I want to walk the world for the rest of the eons at your side.” Joe explained and Cleo sat up, regarding him in quiet shock.

“You’re sure… you want to be a zombie?”

“I’m sure I want to be with you until time stands still and the world falls apart. If being a member of the undead is what that takes I’ll do it. I’ve been dead once already, it wasn’t so bad.” Joe said with a light shrug.

“But… there’s the risk you won’t wake up.” She said, voice cracking.

“There’s also the certainty I’ll die eventually anyway.” He pointed out.

“Can we… wait a while?” She asked quietly, already afraid of losing him again.

“Wait until something like demise happens again? Cleo, please do this, for me, for the peace of mind it will bring once it’s over. I’ll come back to you, like I always do, I promise. You are the sunrise to my dreary twilight hours, you are the laughter in the rain, and the thunder of the storm. I’d die for you Cleo, but I really would rather undie for you.” Joe rambled but she caught the meaning to all of it, as she always did. She was scared but she knew he was right, he had a point.

“F-fine…” She said softly and he sat up, wrapping her in a hug and kissing her. He spoke softly just as their lips parted.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She said quietly before taking a gentle hold of his hand and pulling it up to her face. She held his gaze, still afraid of losing him but trusting his strength of will. She closed her eyes… and bit his hand.

--

It had been nearly a week since demise ended.

An entire week.

Yet Wels was starting to feel like things were steadily going back to normal. He was relieved at how Python had simply forgiven him, understanding and letting the past go. Still… Wels still felt the need to make it up to Python. He was at a loss though, he couldn’t think of anything and that made it all the worse. Python didn’t need anything built and really supplies were still in good shape… The more he thought about it the less ideas he felt like he had. Everything had been done or wouldn’t amount to enough.

Crumpled page after crumpled page fell to the floor as he made lists and then discarded them in frustration. He sighed heavily and pitched the nearly empty book aside.

“Hey.” Python’s voice was soft but Wels still jumped a bit, still a bit on edge after all that had happened.

“Hey.” Wels sighed, turning towards him.

“You, uh… you alright? You’ve been sitting off on your own a lot lately.” Python asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I… I just want to try and…” He shook his head, trailing off.

“Wels… you don’t need to try . You just need to be . I just want to spend time with you, the more the better. I came so close to losing you twice in a row . Wels.” Python’s expression was pleading and anxious. It hit Wels then, just how much of a fool he was being and he let out an exasperated sigh at his own idiocy.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, just protect you from that damned book and now… now I’m grasping at straws when I should be focusing on you.”

“On us .” Python said pointedly and Wels nodded, agreeing.

“You’re right.” Wels said, standing and pulling Python into a hug.

In all honesty… they just needed each other. Wels realized that then. As he and Python walked off together, hands in a comfortable hold, he realized that’s all he needed. He just needed to be there for Python, that would be enough, enough for both of them. Life was a fleeting and fragile thing, not to be wasted on uncertainties or stresses but to be focused towards the good things.

Wels would do his best to keep that in mind from then on.

Love… togetherness… just the time shared.

That’s what mattered.

--

Tango sighed heavily, setting down bowl after bowl of food, one for each of the ten tamed wolves. He pet them all in turn as he went, the well behaved pooches wagging their tails but waiting patiently. He smiled at them but it faltered when his eyes trailed over to Impulse. Impulse who hadn’t been the same sense demise ended.

Impulse who hadn’t said a word since his initial panic.

Not.

One.

Word.

No matter what Tango did, or said, he couldn’t get Impulse to smile or laugh or talk… he’d gone… still for lack of a better word. He looked like a ghost, or a shell. Tango’s heart ached as he regarded the hermit he loved more than anything as he went about his daily life like a phantom of the past. Tango drew in a long breath before standing straight and going over to Impulse. He caught the other redstoner by the hand as he was organizing and pulled him into a hug.

“I love you.” Tango said softly.

“...” Impulse said nothing, he barely responded at all. With a sigh Tango kissed Impulse on the temple, hugged him a little tighter then let go.

“I’m gonna head out for a bit, alright? Is it… alright if I take the dogs with me?” Tango asked gently.

“...” Again, nothing, Impulse did little more than glance in the general direction of the dogs. Tango gave Impulse’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and turned for the bubblevators. He let out a whistle, he’d long since learned the commands Impulse had the dogs so well trained to and today, he was glad to know them.

Tango had a plan in mind. He wasn’t afraid to take the tamed wolves out with him at this point, all the traps had been cleared up pretty fast and now… things were generally pretty quiet. Tango figured everyone was recovering, it made sense, things had gotten really rough there for a bit and most of them hadn’t even realized. So caught up in the throes of the spell… It was kind of haunting going through the market district and buying what he needed for his plan. It was a bit disturbing in a way. Still, he pushed that aside and headed onward, more towards his own base but that wasn’t where he was headed, oh no, he was headed right past.

Once in the Christmas district Tango set to work, he was building something he’d never built before… but he’d studied the design in some of Impulse’s books. He remembered what the thing had looked like loaded as well, and he had messed with the harnesses enough to know how to properly set them up. He remembered the commands, he just hoped the pooches did as well.

Soon everything was ready, he left the trained wolves in the warmth of the teddy bear workshop, the building he and Impulse had done together ages ago. He left the bigger surprise tucked behind the building and with all that done Tango took to the air to return to Impulse’s base.

Back down the bubblevator and into the base Tango looked around alert to every tiny sound, anything that would indicate where Impulse might be. Soon he found Impulse, sitting against the wall  near the secret entrance into some of his farms. Really, he hadn’t gone far from where Tango left him. Gently Tango reached down to catch Impulse’s hands and pull him to his feet. Impulse did look up.

“...?” but still he said nothing, just a questioning look and there was barely any effort there.

“I’ve got a surprise for you. We can walk or we can fly, up to you.” Tango said as he pulled Impulse back up the bubblevator. Once outside Impulse unfurled his wings and Tango smiled wide, motioning for Impulse to follow before taking to the sky. Glancing back he saw Impulse do the same, it was the most animated he’d been in over a week. Mostly that was because of how much effort it took to fly but, that was enough to give Tango a little bit of hope.

He didn’t push his luck to try and get Impulse to race, but they did make decent time flying over the island. As the blankets of white and festive builds came into view Tango started to descend, he landed softly in the snow and heard Impulse do the same right after. Tango caught his hand and took him around and inside the building. He guided Impulse to one side of the room, away from the window.

“Wait here, this will only take a few minutes.” Tango said, honest excitement filling his tone.

“...” Impulse had such a broken appearance to him it almost seemed like Tango might be getting his hopes too high but he refused to believe that. He refused to give up. He refused to accept that Impulse had snapped.

Tango slipped out the door, holding it open and whistling for the dogs. He took them around and got them harnessed up and then his favorite part. He dug in a shulker and started putting boots on each of the dogs, they instantly seemed to know what was up when he did that. They seemed excited and he was glad, he was glad he’d found those still packed away, glad the dogs let him put the little boots on them. Doing one more check over everything Tango was satisfied and he headed back into the building. He caught Impulse’s hand, tugging the listless lover after him.

Tango turned to give Impulse the biggest smile as they stepped around the side of the building and his gift came into view. He watched Impulse’s expression, what had settled into an empty, tired mask with dull eyes changed suddenly. Tango watched as Impulse’s expression filled with surprise so fast it was as if the other redstoner had been slapped. Slack jawed Impulse tried to formulate any word at all but not a sound came past his lips and finally he just stared over at Tango in silence.

“Sometimes you have to step back and remember where it all started, you gotta remember where you came from and how you got here.” Tango said, motioning from the dogsled to the building they’d just stepped out of. Impulse followed the gesture with his eyes then looked back to Tango, he… there was presence to those eyes.

Impulse closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, he still said nothing though and when he opened his eyes he was difficult to read.

“Impulse… we’ve been through so much, both together and apart. You had the rougher start and it made you so strong, even if you can’t see that. I can. I love you, I always will. Even if… even if you never say another word… even if I never see… I never see your smile again I’ll… I’ll always love you.” Tango said, losing some of his hope half way through, his eyes blurring with tears. He couldn’t fight back the doubt rising in his mind, that maybe he really had lost Impulse. Or that he’d read too much into that initial response. But then… then Impulse reached up to wipe Tango’s tears away.

Surprised, Tango focused on him again, trying desperately to read those dark eyes. They were still haunted, still troubled, but they were also presence of mind, Impulse was there. Impulse wasn’t gone, he wasn’t a lifeless husk. Tango took a steadying breath, as he regarded those brown eyes. It felt like an entire conversation was had without speaking a word.

“D-don’t make me get the dress.” Tango said in a playfully threatening tone and finally. Finally , Impulse laughed. He laughed and it was the most beautiful sound Tango had ever heard in that moment. Tango was so relieved he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry, watching as Impulse waved at him dismissively.

“You don’t have to do that.” Impulse said, finally he spoke and… cry, yeah that’s what Tango found himself doing in response. “T-Tango!”

Impulse sounded a bit startled, he wrapped his arms around Tango anyway and Tango buried his face against Impulse’s shoulder, hugging him tightly as he just sobbed. He’d been so worried, so stressed, so scared. He’d continually pushed it down and pushed it away and ignored it so he could focus on Impulse… now that something had finally changed he couldn’t hold it all in any longer. He couldn’t pretend he was stronger than he was for a moment more. Impulse let out a long, weary sigh.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to worry you this much… I… how can you still love me after I killed us both?” Impulse demanded, managing to keep his tone level and thoughtful.

“Because that wasn’t you. At least, not thinking clearly. I love you, that’s never going to change.” Tango said, managing to get his sobs mostly under control. Impulse still rubbing his back, voice sounding tired as he spoke.

"I love you, too. I don't know how you can still love me after the things I've done…" Impulse sighed and Tango pulled back from the hug, meeting Impulse's gaze with a level of seriousness that seemed to startle the other redstoner.

Tango thought hard a moment on something obvious, something that would leave no doubt on how he felt. The solution struck him and he didn't hesitate, taking Impulse's hands in his and kneeling on one knee in the most dramatic motion possible. He held Impulses eyes with his own as he did, watched the surprise color his face with a hint of red.

"Tango… what are you doing…?" Impulse asked slowly, seeming to quietly dismiss the obvious implications.

"Something I should have done a long time ago, to be honest. I love you, Impulse, nothing will ever change that. I can't stand the thought of ever being without you so… marry me?" Tango asked softly, serious, making it clear he wasn't kidding. Impulse silently stammered again, unable to find the words he was looking for, tears welled in his eyes as the realization settled in. Finally he spoke.

"Tango… you can't possibly love me that much you… you're making a mistake." Impulse stated, tears rolling and Tango could see the fear and self loathing clouding his eyes.

“Am I? Think about it. Set the events of demise aside and think about it. Remember when we met? I was in love with you the very first moment I heard your voice. You saved my life that day… and again the next and… the next. I never would have made it here without you and even if I had, I wouldn’t have made it this far.” Tango said calmly, holding Impulse’s gaze with nothing but love and warmth.

“I… you’d have been fine…” Impulse muttered, looking away but from the way his expression changed he could tell Impulse had spotted the sled again.

“Then I got the chance to save you… it was terrifying but… you taught me to love my own wings. You taught me not to give up in a bad situation, the hard way but I’m thick headed so it’s fine.” Tango reminded, gently rubbing Impulse’s hands in his.

“Damn it Tango…” Impulse sighed, looking back. To Tango’s relief, some of that pain had lifted from Impulse’s eyes.

“I know, I know, I’m a big thorn in your misery. Too bad. I love you too much to watch you suffer like this. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you happy.” Tango promised.

“I guess there’s no getting you to change your mind, is there?”

“Nope! You can’t even kill me to get rid of me, I’m here and I’m here to stay. We’re both alive so let’s make the most of it.” Tango said cheerfully.

“Wait….. You… you’re seriously proposing, aren’t you?” Impulse asked, wide eyes as it finally settled in on him.

“Yep.” Tango smirked.

“I… I, well… I… aren’t you a little nervous? I mean… after all it didn’t work out too well for the last hermits who tried to get married…” Impulse trailed off, going tense.

“Whatever happened to Etho isn’t going to happen to us.” Tango said firmly, giving Impulse’s hands another gentle squeeze.

“If you’re sure… that this is what you want…” Impulse said quietly.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything else in my entire life.” Tango assured him.

“Then the answer is yes.” Impulse said, pulling Tango back to his feet. They caught each other with their kisses. Tango’s heart felt like a bird… trying to escape the cage that was his chest. A feeling he savored… that he’d never let go of.

When their lips did finally part again Impulse nodded towards the sled.

“Should we, for old times sake?”

“Hell yeah.” Tango laughed. It wasn’t long before Impulse let out the loud cry of mush and the dogs started running at  almost break neck speed across the winter wonderland. This time… this time the ride was all the more fun for all the builds they zipped past, builds done by their friends.

--

This was the second time in Joe’s existence he’d woken up dead. This time though, was different. It was a different magic, different rules and he didn’t feel the call of some evil book trying to sway his will like the flame of a candle in the draft of a door someone just opened. No. This time the only thing the enigmatic poet felt was the tug on his heart as Cleo held his hand in hers. She may as well have been a bard of old strumming the strings of a lute the way his otherwise still heart danced at her beck and call. That was exactly how things should be, he figured, in all honesty. There was, after all, very good reason he’d chosen this style of life over anything else. It wasn’t a thirst for power or a fear of death. No, it was just the will to love.

“Told you I’d be back.” Joe said, his voice was a bit rough and he couldn’t help wondering just how long he’d been out. After all, he didn’t usually sound like a man who’d wander out of the desert with a horse that had no name.

“Joe…” Cleo’s tone was soft, laced with relief like the first warm breeze in spring.

“I love you, Cleo.” He said, opening his eyes at last to waves of ginger like a frame of fire that wrapped Cleo’s beauty in a way nothing else could. Her green eyes like emeralds carved by the gods themselves and while her skin was pale in a dead sort of way it gave her a forbidden, mysterious air. She was like Pherspherone, beautiful as the spring and dark as the underworld all at once.

“I love you, too.” She said and leaned down to kiss him ever so gently on the forehead. Slowly as she moved out of the way he sat up, taking stock of his new state. It wasn’t the same as being dead in demise, he could feel considerably more and he wasn’t as cold as best he could tell. Most notably he wasn’t gray so that was a bonus. With a smile warmer than his body would ever be again Joe pulled Cleo into a tight hug and kissed her gently, she of course returned the affection wild abandon. Joe… lost track of his thoughts for a moment as Cleo’s love made everything spiral into chaos and his heart tried to send itself into hyperspace.

--

“Easy, take it slow.” Doc’s voice was soft but still somehow too loud as the effects of the potions wore off. Of course, this had been expected and it was far preferable to going without them. Wels knew far too well what pain he’d have suffered… even with Doc’s training. Wels blinked the bleariness from his eyes, realizing he’d sat up but Doc was holding him steady.

The effects wore off and the numbness and haze faded away. Wels didn’t look, first moving his left wing, wrapping it into sight and examining the familiar, blue feathers. Then… he commanded his right to fold the same way.  It was strange, he’d gotten used to the phantom feeling of his missing wing, of telling it to move only for nothing to happen for the random pains that shot down the wing that wasn’t there and stirred him from sleep. So now, with this wing, folding into sight with its feathers of gleaming silver.

It was a very odd feeling indeed.

Slowly Wels examined the new appendage, his eyes trailing up the long feathers to the smaller ones, all quite similar in size to his natural ones. That was until the top segment of his wing, where all motion was controlled from. There his wing simply looked armored, the style matching the armor he normally wore. The design of the plates allowed for easy, full motion, despite looking more defensive than agile.

Wels reached up and touched the wing with his hand, tracing the metalwork silently down to the feathers…. The feathers were…

Soft.

Wels was a bit surprised, he hadn’t expected the feathers to almost feel natural but they did. Every fiber gently flexed as he touched it, then returned to shape as his finger fell away. He moved his new wing through a full range of motion and it followed every thought exactly, precisely.

“How long before I can fly again?” Wels asked, turning to look at Doc.

“Give yourself at least a week for everything to heal.” Doc said, watching the wing’s every move. A week was easy enough to handle, Wels folded both wings against this shoulders and just drew a sigh of relief at finally having the balance back the way it belonged.

“Thanks Doc, I really do appreciate this.” Wels said, honestly grateful, he would never fly again without this, instead dealing with life with a missing limb.

“Heh, it was no trouble. Fun really, it’s not an average challenge. Just let me know if you have any trouble with it, alright?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks again.” Wels smiled and now steady enough to be on his feet, he headed home.

--

“Alright, then I’ll mediate.” Xisuma said, looking between his boyfriends to the pair of confident girls.

“Your opinion will be biased!” Stress pointed out in a teasing tone.

“I'm the leader here, I’ll be fair.” He promised and that seemed to be enough to satisfy. Xisuma sat back as the four set off towards the plot of land in question, the two respective teams discussing their separate plans for a moment before setting to work. There were few things Xisuma enjoyed more than seeing his Hermits build, watching them have fun like this, after all that had happened, it was a real treat.

False and Stress worked well together, their communication on point when the air wasn’t filled with happy giggling. Bdubs and Keralis on the other hand… it wasn’t that they weren’t good at communicating so much as they kept sort of fumbling over each other. It was adorable to watch really, the way they kept somehow being right in the way of each other, bumping into each other only to bashfully laugh it off and try to remember what they’d been doing. In the meantime False and Stress actually had a full structure built. They too seemed to enjoy each other’s company but the romance was a little more refined for the two of them. It wasn’t quite like back in the graveyard… they were able to focus on their task here.

Xisuma watched with a warm feeling settled in his chest as those he loved and some of his dear friends worked together. It was all light hearted fun, while it had started with a plot of land that somehow both False and Bdubs had managed to claim at the same time, it had become a big game. An actual game rather than some twisted nightmare. With any luck… nightmares had been left in the past and there wouldn’t be anymore dark magic creeping into their lands. There wouldn’t be anymore ancient evils to deal with.

That was the hope at least, for peace, for his hermits to be happy… to be happy.

--

Doc regarded his friends silently as they entered the hanger, Cleo was a zombie again and he was glad that had worked. She saved them all, the fact she found a loophole to save herself was a relief. It was interesting though, seeing the color had mostly faded from her wings again, this time though they held an almost pearlescent shimmer of the colors she'd gained while alive the second time.

With her was Xisuma and Joe, after all that happened Doc guessed Joe would near permanently be at Cleo's side. He seemed to be handling zombism well enough as the enigmatic poet seemed comfortable in his own, undead skin. Contemplating the state of zombies wasn’t why Doc had invited his friends here, however. There was something important needing done.

“So what’s on your mind, Doc?” Cleo asked once they’d reached him.

“Demise… it’s time we took care of that vile book permanently.” Doc explained.

“I mean, it hasn’t escaped my enderchest.” Cleo noted.

“We shouldn’t risk the possibility. I have a plan, follow me.” Doc instructed and turned for the entrance of S4. They followed him down, he’d spent the past couple of weeks cleaning up the mess the Envoy had made as well as preparing the holding chamber. Doc led the way to said chamber, the room was disconnected all the way around by a six block gap aside from a single narrow pathway leading into it. The symbols that had been described in the original holding chamber were shrunk down to size to be more manageable. In the center of the circle sat an enderchest with the same symbols again, as well as heavily reinforced by well crafted diamond corners. In all, Doc was quite pleased with it. He felt confident it would securely hold the book in place.

It’d had its cost… but he felt it was reasonable to stop such an evil.

Cleo set down a regular enderchest in the hall near the single pillar and glanced towards Doc and the other two.

“Stand back, I don’t want it influencing any of you with enough room to cause trouble.” Cleo ordered. Doc walked with the other two well down the hall, only turning to watch when he heard the enderchest open. He could hear it again, as she pulled the faintly glowing book from her enderchest, he could hear its weak, pitiful call. It was in such a sorry state now, it was almost hard to believe that thing had nearly destroyed all of the hermits.

Silently Cleo made her way across the narrow path into the room and unceremoniously plopped the book into the new chest. As soon as it was closed it’s song was silenced. Doc let out a sigh of relief and relaxed at that, glad it had worked as expected. Cleo returned to the main hallway and Doc headed over, breaking the narrow bridge before turning to Xisuma.

“This is the part where you come in, I need you to wrap that room in bedrock.” Doc explained and Xisuma gave a nod, taking a few steps closer to the gap. Doc stepped back, watching as that glow from the golden markings on Xisuma’s wings expanded and trailed, wrapping him in an ethereal grasp of moonlight. With a few precise movements Xisuma summoned a six layer thick box of bedrock.

“Take that, you vile book.” Cleo said smugly as she examined her nails, leaning on the wall with her other hand. “That’ll teach you to fuck with my friends.”

“Well that’s one problem we don’t have to worry about.” Xisuma said with a sigh.

“Can’t say I’m disappointed. Even for the strengths we gained by undergoing it’s trials not all of us have come out of this unscathed.” Joe added in and the reminder sent Doc’s mind right back to that horrible, despair filled cry Grian had let out when he woke.

“Let’s just hope with enough time everyone recovers.” Doc sighed.

--

Salty sea air… soft, clean bed sheets tucked all around him… The warmth of sunlight cascading across his face, the brightness of it behind his eyelids. He could hear the warped sounds of a nether portal, the absent bubbling of the aquariums… Voices, he heard voices, familiar, worried.

“Is he doing any better yet?” Iskall asked, his voice was low, as if worried about waking someone.

“He didn’t sleep very well last night, like most, but he didn’t scream himself sick this morning…” Mumbo offered his tone… it was so… disheartened… and honestly, Grian couldn’t blame him.

The memories… they were all right there, right at the surface of his mind, swirling like some portal to the past. There was blood on his hands. The suffering he caused his own friends weighed his shoulders, crushing him like a landslide. The guilt, the pain… it swirled inside like a tempest around his heart but his heart… his heart was tired. Grian didn’t know how long this had gone on… he didn’t know how many days had passed at this point. It was all a blur, a blur of pain, of guilt, of screaming out in overwhelming emotion. Now, now his throat hurt and his body felt weak, his mind was sluggish and his heart was tired. Somewhere in the midst of it all he’d realized his body was his own again, he’d realized he was alone in his mind.

Somehow… somehow that thought was comforting in it’s own way. Against all that had happened… at least he wasn’t possessed anymore. Slowly he opened his eyes, turning his head to look towards Mumbo and Iskall… Grian’s heart, his tired, emotionally drained heart twisted like an over wrung mop at the sight. Mumbo’s shoulders shook with silent sobs, his head rested on Iskall’s shoulder while Iskall patted Mumbo’s back. Iskall looked worried, tired too, but he was doing his best to comfort his friend.

‘I’m still hurting them.’ Grian thought before shaking his head almost violently to cast the thought aside. Slowly he shifted his arms under him and pushed himself up into a sitting position, letting his blanket slide to the floor. Drowning in guilt wasn’t going to make his friends and his lover worry any less, it wasn’t going to stop the circle of pain he’d started. Only one thing would do that, only one and he understood that. In the now quiet of his mind, on his highwire of lucidity above the pit of guilt and raging memories.

He knew.

On unsteady legs Grian stood, he took a step towards the other two, lifting his hand to reach for Mumbo, he opened his mouth to speak but only a weak croak escaped. Then his legs gave out and he was tumbling to the floor. He felt so weak, so very tired. How long had he been lost in his own regret? How long had he been… a husk trying to remember to live?

That he didn’t know.

“Grian!” Iskall cried and the two were running over. Ever so gently he was pulled from the floor, into Mumbo’s arms and he practically melted there.

Grian tried again to speak but his voice just wouldn’t have it and Mumbo started rubbing his back while offering soft assurances. If Grian hadn’t already felt melted he would have done so more, burying his face against Mumbo as tears flowed. There was so much on Grian’s mind that he wanted to say, to let out and he just couldn’t. It was as if his body was punishing him for what he’d put it through.

“It’s alright, Grian… everyone is fine, we all know it wasn’t really you. The book is long gone, it can’t hurt any of us anymore.” Mumbo said, with the way he spoke the words it felt like he’d said them a thousand times before.

Grian couldn’t answer, couldn’t speak at least so he did the next best thing he could think of and he nodded.

“Grian.” Mumbo said with a sharp breath and hugged Grian all the tighter. Grian wrapped his shaky arms around Mumbo in response, his hands taking hold of that finely tailored suit and gripping it tightly. Mumbo rested his face against Grian’s head, the redstoner’s breath ghosting through Grian’s hair as he spoke again. “I love you Grian, nothing can change that. I thought I’d lost you forever…”

Grian just snuggled a little closer, letting out a somewhat stuttered, deep sigh.

“Oh, Grian… I’m so sorry… I’m sorry we took so long to figure out how to stop it… that we… that I couldn’t save you soon enough.” Mumbo said softly, still rubbing circles on Grian’s back. Grian shook his head slightly.

“We were well in over our heads before any of us knew what we were up against. The only one to blame is that book and it’s gone.” Iskall spoke up and Grian wiggled an arm loose to point a finger in his direction, nodding against Mumbo’s chest. Mumbo sighed.

“I suppose you’re right.” Mumbo said and Grian hugged him a little tighter. They lapsed into silence but Grian didn’t really mind, just letting himself have the little moment of peace; of the feeling of Mumbo’s arms around him. Of the sound of the waves outside, the rhythm of Mumbo’s breathing, the scents that intermingled, the faint rustling of a sea breeze through his feathers.

Grian didn’t know how long it had been until Mumbo explained it later over a bowl of warm soup. It had been a month, a full month and so many of his waking hours had been spent screaming that he wondered if his voice would recover at all. Somewhere deep in his heart though, he realized he’d be okay with it if his voice didn’t return. Something about that he just quietly accepted, for now, it balanced some of his guilt. He felt a little more comfortable trying to move on.

He didn’t realize he’d gotten lost in thought until Mumbo kissed him on the temple, gently taking the empty bowl from his hands. Grian gave him a thankful look followed by a warm smile and the Redstoner almost tripped over his own feet. Silently Grian chuckled at him, shaking his head a little and smiling.

Suddenly the rustling of wings and… something metallic caught Grian’s attention and his eyes were drawn from the flustered Mumbo to…

To…

Wels.

Slowly Grian stood, watching as the stalwart Knight flew into the base, settling on the floor nearby.

“Xisuma sent me to check and see if you needed…” Wels started to say to Mumbo but his sentence trailed off as his eyes fell to Grian.

Grian, who had no voice to apologize with. That settled on him heavily and his gaze fell to the floor, he could feel his shoulders droop.

“I don’t think we need anything, Grian is doing better though.” Mumbo offered after a moment the silence just hung in the air. Grian didn’t hear Wels say anything more, but he did hear the sound of armored boots heading his direction and he looked back up again.

“I’m glad to see you doing better.” Wels offered, there was nothing hostile in his tone, nothing demeaning; only friendliness and warmth.

Grian gave the Knight an apologetic look, mouthing the words I’m so sorry . To which Wels gave Grian’s shoulder a squeeze and sighed.

“Don’t be. I know what that book did to you… it got in my head too, after you demised. It tried to make me kill Cleo, permanently. So… So don’t worry about what happened alright? It’s behind us, it wasn’t your will anymore than it was mine. We can’t let things like this control our lives, not when there’s a bright new tomorrow on the horizon.” Wels said, his tone so honest and caring that Grian felt some of the pain ease a bit. Grian nodded, offering a smile, weak as it was and Wels pulled him into a hug, which Grian returned in kind.

Things would be alright, that… that moment was enough.

It was time to look to tomorrow.

So that’s what Grian did.

End?