Chapter Text

Grian flew around the shopping district, spamming his fireworks as he flew, searching for his target.

There.

He dove down, down, down, wind whipping his hair as he let out a whoop, the wings on his back nearly depleted of its energy, shedding feathers as he went - but he didn't care, not when he was so close -

And then Grian crashed into the ground as his wings gave out from the closeness of the ground, letting out a groan as some of the white-grey feathers exploded in a burst of plumes, nearly faceplanting into his target - Mumbo Jumbo himself.

The man in question turned to face Grian as he lay, groaning on the ground. "What are you doing down there, dude?"

Grian stood up as quickly as he could, brushing the stray feathers off of his red sweater and clearing his throat, ruffling his wings so they were hidden behind his body. "Oh, you know - inspecting the rocks." He pointed at the gravel-filled ground pointedly. "They seem fine to me, actually. Real...rocky."

Mumbo raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose it has nothing to do with the fact you're shedding feathers like chickens do eggs?" he asks.

Grian coughed.

"You crashed, didn't you?" Mumbo asked knowingly.

Grian sighed. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I may have."

Mumbo laughed, spreading his own wings. "You know, ever since the Update came out and we were given wings, you're a lot more reckless."

Grian sighed again. "I promised myself I wouldn't be that person to fly everywhere," he said, more to himself than to his friend. "But I think I've changed my mind. Flying is..."

"Freeing?" Mumbo asks, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah. It gives me a new perspective on things, honestly," the redstoner says, shuffling as his feet as he stares up at the sky, pondering his words.

"Literally or figuratively?" Grian teased.

Before Mumbo could respond, both of their communicators beeped, signaling a message sent in the general chat. And by the red color, it was beeping, it looked important.

Grian pulled out his and stared at it.

|Xisuma| Meeting on the rainbow in ten minutes. Urgent.

|Renthedog| What's the importance, my dude?

|Xisuma| Hard to explain over chat. Just come.

|Grian| ok lol

"What do you suppose that is about?" Mumbo muttered, his elytra opening as he prepared to take off, aiming for the wool rainbow in the distance, gathering his rockets in his right hand.

Grian tucked his communicator into his pocket and swiftly followed Mumbo into the sky, propelling himself using a few rockets of his own. "I don't know!" he called over the wind, flapping his plumage to keep up with the redstoner. "But for X to use proper capitalization and punctuation, it must be important!"

Mumbo snorted, a sound that Grian barely heard over the wind as he shot up, while Mumbo went down in a gentle glide in the rainbow.

From the sky, Grian saw other hermits start to arrive, some, like False, arriving by wings, others, like Joe, opting to walk up the side of the rainbow.

He waited until the rainbow was barely visible, and then he dove straight down, in a vertical line.

A hundred feet.

Fifty feet.

Twenty feet.

Ten feet.

Five.

Grian snapped out his wings, blowing Stress's flower crown out of her brown hair, and the ice queen huffed as Grian landed, laughing at Stress's situation. It felt nice to do it again - the feel of the wind, though he couldn't feel it blowing on his elytra like he had his wings.

"Was that really necessary, love?" the ice queen asked as she picked up her flower crown and placed it lovingly back onto her head.

"Oh, very," Grian said with a smirk, as Iskall came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"How's the base going, Grian?" Iskall asked. "I mean, besides the reality that it looks like a two-tiered cake." He snorted meaningfully.

Grian rolled his eyes. "I don't know what kind of cake you're eating, Iskall," he said. "Either that or you're blind, which is also a distinct possibility."

Iskall blinked at him. "Are you making fun of my diamond eye?" the Swedish man asked, poking him jokingly.

"Nooooo," Grian said. "Why would I ever make fun of your singular eye?"

By this time, the rest of the hermits have arrived, as Xisuma stands at the top of the rainbow, a serious look below his masked face. "We have a problem."

"Besides the fact we're meeting on a rainbow?" Tango muttered next to Grian, inclining Zedaph to snort with suppressed laughter. "Urgent, he said. On a rainbow?"

"A rift has opened up nearby," Xisuma says, ignoring Zedaph and Tango, though he did give them the stink-eye. "From the Aether."

Grian felt the grin slide off of his face, though when he looked around, he was the only one. He knew why he was the only one not excited for some visitors from the Aether - angels.

Because he had once been an angel - he had once borne wings that did not come off like the elytra on his back, and he had once been an angel - but no more, not after he decided to Fall to the overworld.

A fallen angel.

That's what Grian was - and nobody knew, nobody could know, because the angels were looking for him, his sister was looking for him, a sister that the others didn't know he had. A sister named Lily - his younger sibling, who should've come with him, though she'd chosen to stay with her family and her arranged marriage.

He'd Fallen into this world months ago, making quite the speculation to where he'd come from - but like the rest of them, he pretended he had no memory of his past, though it haunted him.

Sometimes Mumbo gave him knowing looks, but the redstoner kept silent, even if he'd guessed. Grian had no telltale signs - he'd never shown his powers, and his wings were gone when he'd chosen to Fall. They'd appear if he earned the right, though they'd be black, unlike the snowy white of his fellow angels from the Aether.

"Is this a good thing?" Cleo asked, tucking her orange hair behind her zombified face. "I've only read tales of them from shipwrecks, it never occurred to me they might visit us..."

"They're angels," Joehills says. "Shouldn't that mean they're inherently good? Angels have always symbolized a greater significance."

Grian couldn't help himself. "Yeah, symbolized," he snapped. "But what if they had a darker side?"

"Perhaps you're thinking of demons, love," Stress said with pursed lips. "We've met plenty of those in our time in this world. You've met plenty of those."

Grian shuddered. Demons and angels - both were bad; though demons were bad because they could be, and angels were just plain cruel.

"Do you know where this rift is?" Mumbo asked worriedly next to Grian, his eyebrows furrowing up.

Xisuma shook his head. "I was doing my Admin duties...and something just popped up out of the ordinary on the control panel. There are blocks somewhere in this world that shouldn't exist, somewhere within four-thousand blocks of the world spawn." He paused. "And I want to find it and make sure it's not an invasion, or worse - a demon rift." X shook his head. "I could be wrong here saying it's from the Aether, and instead it could be a monster portal from the Nether."

Although an invasion of their peaceful world would probably bring chaos and destruction, at least there wouldn't be Permadeath. Angels, if they killed you, would kill you forever, and you wouldn't wake up in your bed with an empty inventory and a feeling of sickness - you'd never wake up, and your body would never fade away.

"What do you want us to do?" False asked, shifting on her hip as she places her hand on her enchanted diamond sword. "Fight them?"

Xisuma rubbed his face. "No. If they are angels, we wouldn't want to anger them by bringing weapons." False raised her eyebrows, shifting on her feet as her golden-blonde hair fell across her face. "I need twelve volunteers to scour the area - north, east, south, west. This does not include our fighters - those who are most in touch with their sword abilities must stay here in case there is an invasion. The rest of you - the fastest flyers, those with the sharpest eyes - "

Grian elbowed Iskall in the side meaningfully. "That doesn't mean you," he whispered.

"Actually, my diamond eye of doom is probably better than yours," Iskall retorted. "Dude, it's calibrated to such a high level - "

"But the rest of you, those who can make traps, and those who can fight, will stay here and guard the bases," Xisuma said over Iskall. "It is dangerously important that you do not bring any weapons on the trip, potions included."

"Count me out," Welsknight muttered under his breath.

"I have talked and bargained with many angels in my lifetime," Xisuma continued. "They are very haughty and proud of their wings. If you meet one, take your wings off. They do not like imposters." He cleared his throat. "Now, do we have any volunteers to go north?"

"I'll go," Scar said instantly, and Cub nodded next to him.

"I'll go too," the ConVex man said.

After a moment, Python speaks up. "I guess I'll go as well."

Xisuma nodded. "And east?"

"I'll do it," Grian said, a pit forming in his stomach. It would be odd if he didn't go - he was one of the best fliers around, and the others were already suspicious about why he hadn't volunteered first.

"Count me in as well," Stress informed the group. "Someone needs to look over Grian." She giggled. "Make sure he doesn't press any buttons and the like, love." The last part was directed at Grian himself.

He glared at her, and would've ruffled up his wings if he had any - well, angelic wings, anyway.

"Me too," ZombieCleo says after a moment.

"Cleo, I'm not sure that's such a good idea - " Xisuma starts.

Cleo interrupts him, tapping her foot as a dangerous light enters her eyes. "What did you say, X?"

"...annnnddd that's it for the eastern team!" X finishes with a choked look, and Cleo smiles knowingly.

The other two teams, southern and western, are sorted out more accordingly. Impulse, Doc, and Jevin joined the southern team, and Joe, Iskall, and Zedaph volunteer for the western team.

"For the scouting teams," Xisuma informed them as the rest of the hermits, Mumbo included, though not before the redstoner whispers, "Good luck," to Grian and Iskall, disperses from the rainbow. "Elytras, food, rockets, and leather armor only."

"What if we run into mobs?" Cleo piped up.

"Run and hope you don't get shot," Zedaph said, a grin on his face.

"Why leather armor?" Scar asked.

"So that they wouldn't consider us to be a threat," Grian answered without thinking, and then everyone looked at him. "...I mean, I assume - you were talking about swords pissing them off, and I assumed sparkly diamond armor would do the same...?"

He breathed a sigh of relief as Xisuma looked at him intently, and then nodded. "Grian is right," the Admin told the group. "Once you see the portal, if you see it, use your communicators to tell the group, and return directly home. Do not, under any circumstances, enter the portal. The angels do not take trespassers into their territory lightly. And if it is a demon rift - definitely do not enter the portal, unless you wish a slow and painful death." He hesitated before continuing. "If you meet an angel, remain respectful." His eyes flew to Cub, Doc, and Scar knowingly. "If you are killed by an angel, it will result in PermaDeath."

Shock filled the air, as the hermits' jaws around Grian dropped.

"Well, that just got a bit more terrifying," Scar whispered.

Xisuma inclined his head. "This is terrifying," he said. "This is a mystery that I refuse to let remain unsolved because it could result in the deaths of many of my friends."

"Unlike the Salmon ghost?" Joe asked. "That itself was a very compelling mystery, one I'm not sure we'll ever solve. The circumstances regarding its appearance were very appalling."

"Nah, unlike Poultry Man," Iskall said with a smirk.

Instantly, everyone turned toward Grian, who turned bright red. "Wha - me? Poultry Man? You're kidding, right, pshh..."

Stress rolled her eyes.

"Good luck, hermits," Xisuma said seriously. "Hopefully the configuration statuses are wrong about this."

"But then where would the adventure be?" Cleo mumbled next to Grian, crossing her zombified hands.

Xisuma looked at the zombie girl solemnly. "You better hope it's not an adventure, Cleo - or some of us will end up dead."

With that final word, the Admin activated his elytra and used his rockets to shoot off into the distance, probably heading back to his records to look at the config some more.

"Well," Stress said. "Good luck to all of you gorgeous people."

Iskall smiled. "Let's get this adventure of doom going then."

Grian didn't smile. He knew why the angels were here - and he prayed that he wasn't the one to find them, or that the angels didn't recognize him now that he wasn't in the ethereal light of the Aether. He hoped he wouldn't have to go home, or that Stress and Cleo would be dragged back to pay for his 'crimes' alongside him. He prayed he didn't kill the entire trio by merely existing.

Chapter Text

Grian stared at the pink-dyed leather Stress had handed him, blinking slowly at it while Cleo and the ice queen herself cracked up in the corner. "...I mean, I have nothing against pink...but...why?"

"Love, you'll look gorgeous in it," Stress managed to get out, before tossing Cleo her set of pink leather armor. The ice queen already had hers on, having waltzed onto Cleo's boat - where the trio was preparing to go in the opposite direction of the soon-to-be-set sun.

Cleo laughed as she pulled her arms through the arms and pulling on her pants and shoes, finally placing the cap on her head. "Come on, Grian, let's get this adventure started."

"I don't know why you're so excited," Grian snapped. Cleo looked appalled at his reaction. Grian sighed. "Sorry, Cleo. I didn't mean to snap like that." He cleared his throat and tried to think of a good excuse. "It's just - what if it is the Aether, and then angels come out, and they kill all three of us? We'd be sentenced to PermaDeath...and that's slightly scary."

Stress bit her lip and nodded. "More than slightly," she admitted, tucking a tail of her pink cardigan into her pink leather pants. "But there are some worlds out there where you can't respawn, and you only have one life - would you be as reckless as you are now if you knew you could only die once - and that would be it forever?" She holds up a hand as Cleo opens her mouth. "Cleo, you gorgeous zombie girl, you're not the one I'm talking to. We all know that even if you knew there was a ninety-nine chance of certain death you'd run in any way."

"For adventure," Cleo agreed, tightening her fists to mimic a sword. "And...it's fine, Grian. We all have our bad days."

"Thanks, guys," Grian said with a soft smile.

It was hot in the desert. They'd been flying for what felt like hours, landing every so often near a spring to refill their water bottles, and then checking in in the general chat with the rest of the teams, all of whom were reported for and had found nothing interesting.

Grian didn't know whether he found that relieving or unsettling. On one hand, there was no portal - and Xisuma could've been mistaken. On another hand, when it came to X's Admin duties, he was seldom mistaken - and that scared him, because it meant that the rift into the Aether (or, more hopefully, the Nether) wasn't found, and could be anywhere. The angels could be sending an army to kill everyone on the server for merely interacting with him, and nobody would know.

His mind flitted to something Joe had said to him a while ago.

"Innocence is bliss," the wise hermit had said. "People don't want to hear the truth because they don't want their illusions destroyed." He had offered Grian a glass of water. "And once the walls are down, they aren't coming back up, no matter how hard you try. You learn something, Grian, and especially if it is negative - and you will remember it forever."

Sure, Grian didn't want to know whether or not the 'rift' that Xisuma had suggested existed actually existed - but he had to. They had to.

"Grian!"

Grian shook his head from the daydreaming just in time to nearly slam into something after he'd rounded the corner of a desert mountain. He spread his wings up and slowed himself down, gliding down the ground to see the floating monstrosity.

It was a floating island - not uncommon in their world, where gravity was petty and sometimes refused to work - but not like this. Never like this.

The grass that made up the floating island was mint green, and instead of brown dirt, it was a light grey-green. On the top of the floating mass of ugly-colored dirt was a portal - no, not a portal, for there was nothing on the outer reaches to support the different colored sky that shone within.

It truly was a rift within the world.

And with a heavy heart, he recognized it instantly.

Immediately, Stress took out her communicator, and Grian looked at his own as the beeps of the trio's communicators filled the sullen desert air.

|Stressmonster101| guys we found something

|Iskall85| What? What is it?

|Stressmonster101| it's a floating...thing of some kind

|Renthedog| dude u do realize those exist naturally in our world

|ZombieCleo| Not like this...never like this.

|Xisuma| What do you mean, Cleo?

|ZombieCleo| It's...greyish dirt with minty green grass, and there's like a tear in the sky, but no blocks are surrounding it, so it's not a portal - but it's like a rip in the world, showing like a white blanket across the air.

|Xisuma| That's it. The entrance to the Aether. Any persons visible?

|Stressmonster101| no

|Xisuma| Good

|Xisuma| Hurry back

|Xisuma| Make sure you're not followed

But while the three of them had been focused on their communicators, they hadn't realized they weren't truly alone. It was Cleo who noticed it first, Cleo who dropped her communicator as it continued to beep with the questions of the other hermits.

Grian looked up next, pocketing his communicator. Seven angels - seven, and he knew four of them. White wings on their back as they stepped into this world, wrinkling their noses at the dry desert that lay around them.

And they saw the trio immediately, the three of them frozen.

The main angel, a man with golden hair much like Grian, though his was much more gold-like and less hair-like, and bright blue eyes focused on the builder first. "Ah. You are here." He motioned to his companions. "It is as we thought."

"Run," Grian whispered, gathering the power in his body he hadn't used in a very long time. "Run, and do not look back."

Cleo eyed him. "What? Aren't we supposed to...I don't know, communicate with them?"

"The only communication with angels will end in death," Grian snapped. "Leave. Now."

Stress took to the air at once, her elytra beating furiously in the painful silence.

The golden-haired angel sighed. "It'll be a pain to track the little bunny down," he said. "No matter. It'll just end worst for you."

Cleo spread her wings to take off, readying her fireworks to follow off a quickly disappearing Stress, but she and Grian were quickly caught in a golden barrier that made them float upwards towards the Aether intrusion.

Grian closed his eyes. Concentrated. Reached for his own abilities that he hadn't used since the beginning of his Fall, to heal the places where his wings had been torn out of him.

He bared his teeth and fought for control of the bubble-barrier the head angel was using to lift up Grian and Cleo. The golden-haired angel's eyes flashed, and then the other six angels raised their hands.

Twenty seconds. That was all he could hold against seven full-fledged angels - only twenty seconds, but hopefully Stress could get away - warn the others -

Cleo's terrified scream filled the air, and Grian felt something heavy hit his head as he collapsed into darkness, wishing he could've done something to help his friends, wishing he wasn't so damn useless, that he could do something with the powers he was gifted in his previous world.

Stress winced as she heard the screams of her zombie friend, tears running down her face as she quickly heard the flapping of wings - real wings, not fake ones like her elytra. Once upon a time, she had wished for those, but it was a foolish wish, and after meeting these angels, she didn't wish to be an angel anymore.

Frantically, multitasking, she typed into her communicator, her hands shaking.

|Stressmonster101| they found us

|MumboJumbo| who is 'they'

|Stressmonster101| angels

|Xisuma| they're not going to harm you if you don't harm them first. Can you make a deal with them?

|Stressmonster101| no they attacked us

|Falsesymmetry| WHAT?!

|Stressmonster101| grian told me to run

|Stressmonster101| i ran

|Stressmonster101| they got cleo and grian

|Stressmonster101| cleo screamed

|Stressmonster101| theyre chasing me

|Stressmonster101| i don't know what to do

|Xisuma| where are you

|Stressmonster101| -4280 97 167 moving west

|Iskall85| we're coming stress hold on

|Xisuma| fly stress do not let them catch you

|Renthedog| shit shit shit

Stress felt a shadow over her, and knew that her time was up. Tears trickled down her face as she went in a dive, trying to get a little more time, just a little more -

|Stressmonster101| im sorry

|Xisuma| whats happening

|Stressmonster101| they ahve me

|Stressmonster101| they're getting me help me

She could feel their cold hands on her back as they tore her elytra off and she began her plummet down, down, down -

|Stressmonster101| HELP ME

|Stressmonster101| pLEASE

|Stressmonster101|Ỵ̴͕̚͝͠ͅö̴̝̲́͑̃̚ủ̴̱̗͙̘̏̈͐̑͆͛͋̽͝ ̶̧̖̟̩̆͒̍̚s̷̡͂̔͑͘h̴̙̻̩͉͈̟͔̝̿̓̂͐̒͝ō̴̧̮͈͈̳u̸̡͍̭͒̋͐̓̕͠l̵͇̝͝͝d̸̬̅̃̚͘ ̸̜̔͗̏̋͊̒n̴͍̍̈́͂̎̕͝ȩ̷̛̖̦͚̲̃̅̅̄̓̌́͗͠v̴̧̱͕̺̥̞̽̾̇̏̊̀̈́̅͌e̷̢̡̲̩͙͈̝̒͌́͂̊͘͝͠ŗ̴̯̣͓̩̗̱̺̓͑̐̑͘͜͝͠ ̷̡̬̮͇̫̲͎̪̣̂͋̏͝h̴̪͈̜̝̎̀͐́̍͌̾̉͝͝ͅa̷̻̼̬̝͂͋v̷̱̲͓̥̮͍̄̉ͅe̷̤͛͆́͗̚ ̵̧̱̞̳̰̥̞̩͙͖̓̅̄̈́͠à̴̲̪̣̰̳̬͔̱̂̎̃̂̄͊͌͗̉c̵̢̝̫̥̑͒͠ć̷̰̳͚̝͐̌e̶̫̟̖̾̿̇͆̉͋p̴̧̱̩̟̼̲̯̖͒̍̈͗͆̈́̀͜t̴̝̲͎͚͉̼͈̂̋̃̿͂͐̔͑̋͜͠è̷̥͔̌̽̇̇̚͝͠d̶̡̯̖͚͙̤͉̕ ̶͉͚̬̓͊̅̀̌̎̈́̉̚t̵̳͍̠̟̪̠̝̖̂͛̌́͐̈́̔̈́͜h̷͚̬̄ȅ̴̞̙͚̪̼̪̪͇̫̙̊̆͒̾̕͘ ̸̬̼̞̈́̒f̶̡̰͔̦̘̤̮̣̀͗́̉̔͘͜a̸̜̣͖͔̖̪̓́̍͜͠ͅl̴̺͚̙̞̒͆ļ̴̞̳̳̅͑̚e̶̹̩͝ṋ̷̲̰͔̳͗

|Iskall85| STRESS?

|Renthedog| shit

|MumboJumbo| FIND THEM ISKALL

|Iskall85| it'll take hours for me to fly there!!!!

|Tango| well hurry up then!

|Tango| they could be PermaDead!!

|Zedaph| I never even thought of that...

|Xisuma| more likely case is they're captured

|MumboJumbo| GRIAN

|MumboJumbo| GRIAN PLEASE ANSWER

|Grian| Ỵ̴͕̚͝͠ͅö̴̝̲́͑̃̚ủ̴̱̗͙̘̏̈͐̑͆͛͋̽͝ ̶̧̖̟̩̆͒̍̚s̷̡͂̔͑͘h̴̙̻̩͉͈̟͔̝̿̓̂͐̒͝ō̴̧̮͈͈̳u̸̡͍̭͒̋͐̓̕͠l̵͇̝͝͝d̸̬̅̃̚͘ ̸̜̔͗̏̋͊̒n̴͍̍̈́͂̎̕͝ȩ̷̛̖̦͚̲̃̅̅̄̓̌́͗͠v̴̧̱͕̺̥̞̽̾̇̏̊̀̈́̅͌e̷̢̡̲̩͙͈̝̒͌́͂̊͘͝͠ŗ̴̯̣͓̩̗̱̺̓͑̐̑͘͜͝͠ ̷̡̬̮͇̫̲͎̪̣̂͋̏͝h̴̪͈̜̝̎̀͐́̍͌̾̉͝͝ͅa̷̻̼̬̝͂͋v̷̱̲͓̥̮͍̄̉ͅe̷̤͛͆́͗̚ ̵̧̱̞̳̰̥̞̩͙͖̓̅̄̈́͠à̴̲̪̣̰̳̬͔̱̂̎̃̂̄͊͌͗̉c̵̢̝̫̥̑͒͠ć̷̰̳͚̝͐̌e̶̫̟̖̾̿̇͆̉͋p̴̧̱̩̟̼̲̯̖͒̍̈͗͆̈́̀͜t̴̝̲͎͚͉̼͈̂̋̃̿͂͐̔͑̋͜͠è̷̥͔̌̽̇̇̚͝͠d̶̡̯̖͚͙̤͉̕ ̶͉͚̬̓͊̅̀̌̎̈́̉̚t̵̳͍̠̟̪̠̝̖̂͛̌́͐̈́̔̈́͜h̷͚̬̄ȅ̴̞̙͚̪̼̪̪͇̫̙̊̆͒̾̕͘ ̸̬̼̞̈́̒f̶̡̰͔̦̘̤̮̣̀͗́̉̔͘͜a̸̜̣͖͔̖̪̓́̍͜͠ͅl̴̺͚̙̞̒͆ļ̴̞̳̳̅͑̚e̶̹̩͝ṋ̷̲̰͔̳͗

|ZombieCleo| Ỵ̴͕̚͝͠ͅö̴̝̲́͑̃̚ủ̴̱̗͙̘̏̈͐̑͆͛͋̽͝ ̶̧̖̟̩̆͒̍̚s̷̡͂̔͑͘h̴̙̻̩͉͈̟͔̝̿̓̂͐̒͝ō̴̧̮͈͈̳u̸̡͍̭͒̋͐̓̕͠l̵͇̝͝͝d̸̬̅̃̚͘ ̸̜̔͗̏̋͊̒n̴͍̍̈́͂̎̕͝ȩ̷̛̖̦͚̲̃̅̅̄̓̌́͗͠v̴̧̱͕̺̥̞̽̾̇̏̊̀̈́̅͌e̷̢̡̲̩͙͈̝̒͌́͂̊͘͝͠ŗ̴̯̣͓̩̗̱̺̓͑̐̑͘͜͝͠ ̷̡̬̮͇̫̲͎̪̣̂͋̏͝h̴̪͈̜̝̎̀͐́̍͌̾̉͝͝ͅa̷̻̼̬̝͂͋v̷̱̲͓̥̮͍̄̉ͅe̷̤͛͆́͗̚ ̵̧̱̞̳̰̥̞̩͙͖̓̅̄̈́͠à̴̲̪̣̰̳̬͔̱̂̎̃̂̄͊͌͗̉c̵̢̝̫̥̑͒͠ć̷̰̳͚̝͐̌e̶̫̟̖̾̿̇͆̉͋p̴̧̱̩̟̼̲̯̖͒̍̈͗͆̈́̀͜t̴̝̲͎͚͉̼͈̂̋̃̿͂͐̔͑̋͜͠è̷̥͔̌̽̇̇̚͝͠d̶̡̯̖͚͙̤͉̕ ̶͉͚̬̓͊̅̀̌̎̈́̉̚t̵̳͍̠̟̪̠̝̖̂͛̌́͐̈́̔̈́͜h̷͚̬̄ȅ̴̞̙͚̪̼̪̪͇̫̙̊̆͒̾̕͘ ̸̬̼̞̈́̒f̶̡̰͔̦̘̤̮̣̀͗́̉̔͘͜a̸̜̣͖͔̖̪̓́̍͜͠ͅl̴̺͚̙̞̒͆ļ̴̞̳̳̅͑̚e̶̹̩͝ṋ̷̲̰͔̳͗

|Stressmonster101| Ỵ̴͕̚͝͠ͅö̴̝̲́͑̃̚ủ̴̱̗͙̘̏̈͐̑͆͛͋̽͝ ̶̧̖̟̩̆͒̍̚s̷̡͂̔͑͘h̴̙̻̩͉͈̟͔̝̿̓̂͐̒͝ō̴̧̮͈͈̳u̸̡͍̭͒̋͐̓̕͠l̵͇̝͝͝d̸̬̅̃̚͘ ̸̜̔͗̏̋͊̒n̴͍̍̈́͂̎̕͝ȩ̷̛̖̦͚̲̃̅̅̄̓̌́͗͠v̴̧̱͕̺̥̞̽̾̇̏̊̀̈́̅͌e̷̢̡̲̩͙͈̝̒͌́͂̊͘͝͠ŗ̴̯̣͓̩̗̱̺̓͑̐̑͘͜͝͠ ̷̡̬̮͇̫̲͎̪̣̂͋̏͝h̴̪͈̜̝̎̀͐́̍͌̾̉͝͝ͅa̷̻̼̬̝͂͋v̷̱̲͓̥̮͍̄̉ͅe̷̤͛͆́͗̚ ̵̧̱̞̳̰̥̞̩͙͖̓̅̄̈́͠à̴̲̪̣̰̳̬͔̱̂̎̃̂̄͊͌͗̉c̵̢̝̫̥̑͒͠ć̷̰̳͚̝͐̌e̶̫̟̖̾̿̇͆̉͋p̴̧̱̩̟̼̲̯̖͒̍̈͗͆̈́̀͜t̴̝̲͎͚͉̼͈̂̋̃̿͂͐̔͑̋͜͠è̷̥͔̌̽̇̇̚͝͠d̶̡̯̖͚͙̤͉̕ ̶͉͚̬̓͊̅̀̌̎̈́̉̚t̵̳͍̠̟̪̠̝̖̂͛̌́͐̈́̔̈́͜h̷͚̬̄ȅ̴̞̙͚̪̼̪̪͇̫̙̊̆͒̾̕͘ ̸̬̼̞̈́̒f̶̡̰͔̦̘̤̮̣̀͗́̉̔͘͜a̸̜̣͖͔̖̪̓́̍͜͠ͅl̴̺͚̙̞̒͆ļ̴̞̳̳̅͑̚e̶̹̩͝ṋ̷̲̰͔̳͗

And then there is silence on the desert, and nothing is left except a single blinking communicator, a white feather, and a leather boot...all slowly covering with sand.

And when Iskall, Joe, and Zedaph got there, there was no sign of the trio at all, save those items.

Not even the island that Stress and Cleo had mentioned.

All of it - gone.

And Iskall thought it would've been a prank, except that the weird text in chat was glitching, there was an angel feather on the ground, and Grian, Stressmonster, and ZombieCleo were all nowhere to be found.

Chapter Text

Mumbo watched Iskall dump three items onto the center meeting table, silence following his fellow Architect's task as all the hermits stare at the table.

"That's all?" False whispered as she stared at Cleo's pink leather boot, Stress's communicator, and a pure white feather that Xisuma said belonged to an angel. "That's all you found of them?"

Iskall gritted his teeth, and Mumbo realized that everyone in this room was positively miserable. "We searched for hours, False. Good news...no dead bodies."

"Bad news...no dead bodies," Joe chimed in.

Everyone's eyes swiveled to Cleo's friend as he stared at the table, sadness written on his face.

"What do you mean, bad news?" Scar demanded. "Isn't that good news?" His voice shook for a second before he retained control of it. "Don't you want them to remain alive?"

"It's also bad news," Joe repeated. "Because they could be dead, and we could be searching for the rest of their lives, but we would never find anything because they would be dead." He hesitated before continuing. "They could be PermaDead."

"They're not PermaDead," Xisuma stated calmly, flinching slightly before the weighted gazes of the hermits. "At least...all we can do is hope."

"The portal...the rift that Cleo mentioned..." Zedaph said softly. "There is no sign of it. There is no sign of angels, of anything. We have almost no information, and so much on the line here!" he bangs his fist down on the table meaningfully, making half the room jump.

Doc cracked his knuckles, and False clutched her sword, looking tempted to fight anyone who stands in her way. "How can we get them back?" the german asked a soft voice, looking at Xisuma. "How do we get them back." It wasn't a question, merely a stated fact.

Xisuma places both of his hands on the table and picks up the fluffy white feather. "War," he said softly. "It means we go to war, to get them back...it'd mean we'd have to go to war." He looked up at the remaining hermits, which included Mumbo, Iskall, Ren, Doc, Zedaph, Tango, Scar, Cub, Joe, TFC, False, Wels, Jevin, Python, and Impulse. "I won't ask any of you to die for me, against deities that can kill you, but - "

False drew her sword in a singular motion, tears shining on her face. "We go to war, then," she said firmly. "And if they are alive...we will get them back - and if they are dead, then they will know what it is like to have hell rained down upon them."

Wels draws his sword, mirroring False's position. "Seconded," he stated calmly. "We will get them back, or we will die trying."

The remaining hermits that carried swords drew theirs, Mumbo awkwardly raising his diamond sword that carried far fewer enchantments than the more PVP-inclined members - but that was fine, PVP wasn't ever his thing, really - his job was Redstone, and that was one thing he was good at.

Xisuma looked around the room, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips under his mask. "First things first - we need weapons that can kill angels."

Mumbo, Doc, Cub, and Iskall created a forge, ripping down one of the shops in the center of the Shopping District - the original plan had called for Grian's Traveling Cart space, but nobody could bring themselves to remove it. They'd changed it instead, to the coral shop, ripping it down and replacing it with a forge that Xisuma himself had to draw out old records for.

Some of the other hermits were also out - out carrying weapons, armed to the teeth, ready to flee if need be, if they even saw a single white feather. Enderpearls, invisibility potions, elytra...all of it was necessary for every hermit to have.

The other hermits were collecting materials that Xisuma said were needed to create a special demon lava that could kill angels. He warned that while the angels had magic, they also had arrogance, and wouldn't use their magic until absolutely necessary. So they had to kill them fast - fast and quickly, so the angels couldn't use their magic.

Getting into the Aether was a different problem entirely, and the server Admin was scouring his databanks, looking for another rift to appear in the config, so that he knew where an entrance was.

But for now...

For now, they prepared.

Xisuma had Mumbo and Cub mash up some materials using a dusty bowl that he said was magical - Mumbo hadn't made the mistake of mentioning that it looked like it was made of wood - and they crushed nether wart, quartz, red mushrooms, glowstone, milk, of all things, chicken feathers, wither skulls, and so much more until they had a glittering black pile of dust. It was tiring work, Mumbo knew that - but if it got Grian and Stress and Cleo back, then it would be worth it.

Even if they just recovered bodies.

Mumbo blinked, trying to get himself off the horrible thoughts. He'd long since discarded his suit jacket and tie, opting to remain in the white undershirt, which was stained a dusty black, and his black pants.

"Bro, you okay?"

Mumbo looked over from where he was sitting, while Xisuma poured the dust into the lava slowly, chanting some words from a book written in Galactic, read out slowly by Joe.

Iskall plopped down next to him, the Swedish Architect looking exhausted as they sat at the top of the rainbow together, looking at the skyline that held Grian's two-tiered coffeepot whatever-it-was modern build he was making.

"I'm fine," Mumbo said, trying to summon a smile and failing.

Iskall saw the look and clapped his friend on the shoulder, Mumbo scowling at the force of it and rubbing it. "Mumbo, dude, there's nothing we can do right now, except forge these weapons and hope another rift opens up."

Mumbo turned to look at him. "But what if they're dying right now? What if Grian's dying, and we could save them - "

"But we can't," Iskall gently reminded the redstoner. "We can't even get into their world until X finds another rift, and for now, we have to prepare. We are going to fight angels, Mumbo, because they stole our friends. We are going to fight the good guys. What does that make us?"

"...the less-good guys?" Mumbo asked.

Iskall smiled. "No," he said. "It makes us good friends."

A shout from below.

Mumbo was off his perch an instant, wings spread, Iskall following closely behind as he dived down into the Shopping District, as Tango and Jevin tumbled out of the nether portal next to iTrade, their clothes smoking. Tango was clutching a device in his hand as Mumbo nearly faceplanted trying to land, but unlike normally, nobody really commented on it.

Xisuma came rushing toward Tango as the half-demon opened his fist to reveal a communicator, smashed beyond repair, words in a language that wasn't English and wasn't Galactic, nor any language that Mumbo recognized, flashing across the screen.

Mumbo's heart plummeted as Tango turned the communicator to reveal Grian's name stamped into the bottom. "Is he - " he choked out.

Jevin shrugged. "We found it next to the world border."

Iskall poked his head into the conversation, as Mumbo continued to stare at the wrecked metal, looking for signs of blood, of anything to prove that Grian was either dead or alive - but nothing. "Why were you at the world border?" Iskall asked.

Jevin reached into his inventory and pulled out glowing striped vines, red and blue, as Mumbo stared in wonder. "For these." He handed them to Xisuma, who hesitated before rushing off again to deposit them into the lava pit, which not contained something that glowed a blue and certainly wasn't lava anymore. "They grow on the world border. They're border vines."

"Very creative name, I might add," Zedaph said as he walked by the four of them, his arms full of gold and diamonds. "Aptly named." The hermit chuckled as he walked off.

Tango handed the broken communicator to Mumbo, who cradled it reverently as he stared at the scarred name of his friend. "It was just lying on the ground," he said helplessly. He paused before continuing. "I - I know how close you and Grian were, Mumbo...and I'm sorry."

All Mumbo could do was stare at the broken thing in his hands. "Thank you," he said in a partially-cracked voice as Iskall clapped him on the back once more, Tango and Jevin walking off into the forge as Doc tipped another bucket of lava into the blue magical lava - yeah, that thing was going to need a name.

"We'll find them," his friend told Mumbo. "We'll find them, we'll bring them home, and then we'll show those damn angels their place."

Chapter Text

They'd been in the Aether for seven days, now. Five, painful, long, torturous days. A week. The three hermits shared a cell, but they were chained to the wall by a collar and another chain, unable to reach each other, a fingertips' breadth away. It hurt, to be unable to touch each other. It hurt, to be unable to touch up each other's wounds. It hurt all of them.

Cleo was angry. She'd shout at the walls when they took Grian away for the day...and Stress was...different. She was silent, and Grian would catch her staring at the walls when he wanted to pass her a piece of cloth to use as a bandage. It was like she was there, but she wasn't. She wasn't fully there in the head, and Grian worried for her.

They all had scars that would be permanent now. Cleo had even more than her sewn-together zombie body, and though she claimed she didn't care, Grian sometimes caught her picking at the new scars that were healing, a distorted look on her face.

He tried to take his friends' punishments.

And sometimes...it worked.

Other times...it didn't.

And he had to listen to them scream, he had to listen to them shout for the pain to fucking stop, but of course, it didn't; the angels didn't want anything from the hermits - except perhaps Grian's death. He had to watch them get dragged back into the room, sobbing (mostly Stress), screaming (mostly Cleo), and his own deathly, palpable silence.

And he was hard to get rid of - because it hurt. It hurt like hell - everything hurt. And sometimes he would lie there on the floor in a puddle of pain and wish that death would come, with Cleo trying to get him to sit up, but the zombie girl was unable to reach him - and days and days of that, with him, occasionally returning the favor for her, when he couldn't convince the angels to take him instead. And Stress? Stress was a whole another mess, and her screams haunted him. They would, forever. The ice queen had a tough exterior, but it had been cracked using heat- and she didn't speak, didn't move, only slept, only slept and looked at walls and screamed, and he couldn't do anything about it.

Because he was fucking useless.

Because fuck the angels.

Cleo stared at him during the morning of the ninth day, playing with a piece of her orange hair. "So..." she said, mocking the words of what Darien, the angel that had captured them, had said. "...you're an angel." It was a conversation that Grian had been trying to avoid since two days prior when Darien had mocked him about losing his wings.

"No," Grian said shortly, his throat dry. They'd forgotten to bring water and food, again. It was a recurring thing.

Cleo scoffed. "Grian - "

"I was an angel, Cleo," Grian snapped. "I'm not anymore." He had also been a prince, once. He wasn't that anymore either.

Cleo was silent for a moment as she stared at Stress, who was sleeping in the corner of the cell, staring at the living girl who had a bandage covering her face from where it had been slashed at with a knife. "Why?"

Grian blinked at her. "What do you mean, why?"

Cleo looked at him. "I mean what I said, Grian. Why aren't you an angel anymore?" She absently scratched at a bandage around her forearm, where in her normal dress her arm would've been covered - but Cleo and Stress had both been given what seemed to be linen nightgowns to wear, already stained with their blood and the dirt of the floor. Grian had been given a pair of pants and a t-shirt of the same materials.

Grian gazed out of the only window in the cell, minus the door, outside of which angels flew in the Aether, living out their everyday life, men, women, children, all of whom would be corrupted. "I...made some difficult choices that led to the shedding of my wings."

Cleo grunted. "Don't you get all avoiding of my questions, Grian," she hissed, her eyes flashing. And suddenly Grian was scared of the zombie girl, though he doubted she would harm him. Much. "If we're going to die here, I'd like to know why."

"We're not going to die here," Grian said firmly, and a lot more firmly than what he felt inside. "The other hermits will come to rescue us, they'll - "

"I don't want them to rescue us," Cleo said. "They'll just get trapped here too." She motioned to Stress. "Some of them will become like her, others like me...but they will all die here. We cannot fight against angels."

"You cannot," Grian pointed out. "But as a bearer of magic...I can. I can fight a few, but a few are too few for everyone. They'd need demon metal, and they'd need - "

The door crashed open and Grian jumped up to see a female angel, one he didn't know the name of, come in, along with four others following behind her. All of them bore wings. All of them were beautiful beings who would live nearly forever.

And all of them were the evilest things in existence.

The female angel surveyed all of them, and then snapped her fingers at her angel followers. "Bring all of them."

Stress stirred from her position on the floor, raising her head until she saw the angels in the doorframe. Her eyes were dull, unfocused - as if she was dead inside, just like Cleo literally was. She didn't look surprised that there were angels in the doorbell, not even as one unchained her from the wall and hauled the poor girl to her feet, much like a dog.

But while Stress went diligently, Cleo did not. The zombified girl hollered and bit at the angel, who only rolled his eyes and constructed a barrier between himself and the hermit, tugging her out the door with Stress.

Grian was another problem entirely.

They had two angels take him, wherever they were going, and since Cleo and Stress went - he would go willingly. It was his fault they were here. One of them held a shield around him at all times - if he could access his magic, he could've broken it, but the collar around his neck obstructed the usage of his power - while the other dragged him through the hallways much in the same fashion as the two female hermits.

Grian felt horror in his stomach as he was walked with Cleo and Stress down the hallways, expecting them to lead the trio to some torture room...but they didn't.

Instead, they paused a door that was eerily familiar to Grian, and not in a good way. It was made of gold and white quartz, the symbol of a pair of angel wings and a halo in it.

The five angels paused outside the doorway, and after conferring with each other for a brief moment, they yanked all the bandages off the trio, resulting in more open wounds, Stress's face cut starting to bleed off her face.

It honestly made them look worse for wear, which honestly was kind of the whole point.

The female head angel pushed open the doors, the eight of them in total going into the throne room.

And in it...

His mother, the queen of the angels, stared down at him from her throne made of diamond. And his sister, Lily, stood at her side, the same blank look that Stress wore plastered on his sister's face.

But for Lily...it was much, much, worse. She looked skinny and thin, as if she hadn't eaten in days, her pale golden wings droopy, a sign of defeat among angels. As if she'd been beaten into defeat for a very long time.

"My son," the queen crooned, stepping up in her glittery silver dress, spreading her golden wings as she did so. "Welcome home."

"Mother," Grian stated coolly.

Lily did not meet his eyes, not as he was dragged to the center of the room, and he, Stress, and Cleo were chained to the floor in kneeling position.

Grian's mother smiled chillily. "Good," she told the five angels who'd brought the trio into the room. She pointed a delicate nail in Grian's direction. "That's exactly where you should be. Kneeling in front of me."

"It's not like this was consensual," Cleo muttered. She gave Grian a stink-eye. "She's your mother?" the zombie said in the barest of whispers. "You're a prince?"

"It's not like that was consensual either," Grian mock-whispered back, aware that everyone in the room could hear them.

Grian's mother snarled, stalking over to Cleo and backhanding the zombie girl roughly across the face, making Cleo fall on her face as a nasty handprint started to show up on her already injured face. "I am a queen," his mother hissed. "And you will show me some respect, human."

"Actually, I'm a zombie," Cleo remarked snarkily. She flinched when Grian's mother raised her hand for another hit.

"Mother," Grian said coolly. "What do you want from me? Let my friends go - I'll do anything."

Grian's mother laughed. "Oh, honey, I didn't want you - though you were quite a surprise, I'd say. No, I want what your world can give me."

"What's that?" Grian asked after a pause.

So. The angels hadn't come here for him - they hadn't even known he'd be in the world. It had just been one horrible coincidence.

His mother smiled broadly, but it wasn't warm or kind at all - it was the complete opposite. She walked over and gripped Grian's chin, making it hurt from the continuous beatings he'd gotten over the five days. "Oh, my darling son," she purred, Grian glaring at her the entire time. "Haven't you seen? Your world is special. I want what makes the blocks in the air float. I want whatever makes your people able to become invisible. I want the pitiful things you call conduits that allow you to breathe underwater." Her eyes glitter with malice. "The source of your world's power - I want the Enderdragon Egg."

He wished he could rip his mother's spine out.

"They will NEVER give it to you," Cleo spat out.

Grian's mother raised an eyebrow, turning to face a wall covered in tapestries. With one wave of her hand, the wall coverings disappeared, as if they were illusions - or perhaps the tapestries had merely been nullified. On the other side of the wall covering was a screen...a video chat screen.

Grian had a sinking feeling in his heart. From where his mother stood, she blocked off the trio, but he knew she would move.

He knew she would move once she finished talking to his friends.

Something closed around his throat as Cleo opened her mouth to yell. Something cold, something silent - something that took away his and Cleo's voice. But not Stress - no, it wasn't necessary. The ice queen had been broken for a while now, and the queen didn't bother to extend her power to the girl who wasn't going to talk anyway. Who hadn't talked for three days, except to scream - who was sweet and kind and suffered anyway. Who bore a scar across her face because she was human, a mirrored one to Grian and Cleo's, though the zombie girls' was less visible on her deadish skin. But Stress and Grian's...theirs burned red and angry, blood dripping down their faces...and anger burned inside him.

Anger that he had no doubt would be unleashed soon. And throughout all of it, Lily did not look up from looking at the floor tiles. He wasn't even sure if his sister blinked. He wasn't even sure if his sister lay inside the person he'd grown up with. He wasn't sure if Lily existed anymore. It would be his fault, too. Because he'd abandoned her, even though she'd refused, too afraid to go against their mother, and he had Fallen - he should've stayed behind - and what? Ended up in the same miserable existence his sister lived in now? No. He'd made the right choice, and had offered it to his sister - it was her fault she hadn't made the same one. The video screen flashed to life.

Chapter Text

|GoodtimeswithScar| Guys someone is trying to contact us through the video call in Area 77

|Xisuma| ???

|GoodtimeswithScar| it's from another world...do you think??

|Xisuma| omw

|MumboJumbo| I'm coming too

|Iskall85| me too

|Falsesymmetry| me as well

|Xisuma| u know what, emergency meeting @ Area 77

|Tango| be right there

|Zedaph| i'll be there as soon as possible

|cubfan135| if this is a false alarm imma be very mad

|Tango| ...false alarm, ha

|Falsesymmetry| shut up Tango

|Docm77| it's not. The Queen of the Aether is trying to contact us

|Renthedog| shit.

They all gathered in front of the video screen, wearing various clothing - some, coming from the forge, wore gloves and aprons and bore tongs - some, from the training arena, wore iron armor and bore wooden swords - and some wore their enchanted diamond gear, having gone foraging in the Nether and to the world border for more supplies.

And then Scar clicked 'connect', and Mumbo held his breath.

A woman filled the screen, an older, beautiful, angel, with a silver dress and blonde hair, just like Grian's, the redstoner noticed with a sad smile. She had large white wings that were currently spread out, blocking the rest of the background.

The hermits stared at the queen for a second before she spoke.

"Ah. So you are the ones that call yourselves friends of my son," the queen said with a sniff. "Pitiful."

Mumbo felt his hackles rise, and he and most of the hermits resisted throwing their tridents and shooting arrows at the video screen - because that would be utterly pointless.

"Who's your son?" Iskall asked after the room had taken one big collective breath.

The queen blinked at them, and then she motioned for someone off-camera. The hermits waited for a second before the queen stepped aside to reveal three figures, chained to the floor.

"Oh, fuck," Mumbo heard himself say. He never swore - not unless it was absolutely necessary, and this was apparently a time for it.

It was Cleo, Grian, and Stress, chained the floor by collars - as if they were dogs.

Actually, the closer Mumbo looked at them, he was pretty sure dogs were treated better. All three of them had nasty scratches across their faces, dripping blood, and while Cleo looked defiant, and managed to smile a bit into the camera, Grian refused to look at it - and Stress...

Stress looked as if she'd died and come back to life, but lost a part of herself in the middle of it.

"Grian's your son?" Mumbo choked out.

Grian didn't' look at the screen, looking at anything but his friends. He looked...ashamed. Mumbo was almost mad at him for not telling him that he was an angel. Almost. He was mostly glad Grian and the others weren't dead.

"Grian's an angel?" Tango muttered. "Could've fooled me."

The queen sighed. "He is my biological son, yes. He made some foolish choices, and now he will pay for it. But the other two...perhaps we can come to a deal with them...?"

"Give them all back!" Ren demanded, a chorus of voices followed his angry outcry, agreeing with the hermit.

The queen stepped back into the frame. "If you won't take my deal, no, I don't think I will. They're perfectly fine here."

"They don't look perfectly fine!" Iskall said in an angry voice.

And because the queen no longer had her wings spread out, Mumbo saw Stress raise her head, life flickering in her dull brown eyes. While Grian and Cleo had something else besides the collar wrapped around their throat, golden light that flickered with white runes - something to keep them from talking, perhaps? - Stress had nothing. Nothing but the metal collar.

And he was sure that the ice queen recognized Iskall's voice.

The queen sniffed. "They're 'not fine' by their own demands, not mine," she said.

Mumbo felt like she was lying. In fact, all of the hermits knew she was lying. He shook with fury about the fact that his friends had been hurt, possibly tortured, at the hands of someone who was the mother of one of his best friends.

"What do you want?" he felt himself asking hollowly.

"I want your Enderdragon Egg," the queen said with a broad smile.

And from behind her, the girl in the torn dress, who should've been wearing a pink cardigan and laughing in the snow, stood up. "DON'T DO IT!" she screamed, and it was full of raw emotion and hurt. "SHE'S GOING TO KILL US ANYWAY, DON'T - "

The queen turned with a snarl, a knife materializing in her hand, and she flung it at Stress, the ice queen's eyes widening as the dagger flew head over tails, directly at the girls' heart -

He was sure a few hermits in the room screamed, some of them shouted, chairs were toppled as they all stood up - but they were helpless to stop it from happening -

And it never hit.

For Grian had his hands outstretched, golden light no longer flashing from his collar, his hands unbound, the chains snapped, the dagger buried in his own chest instead of Stress's.

He could've sworn that black wings, dark as night, spread from Grian's back, but he wasn't sure, because only then did the builder look at the camera, give a weak smile, as blood trickled from his nose.

Cleo was shouting, the spell stopping her from talking broken, and she was yanking at the chains, tears pouring down her face -

Mumbo could've sworn that Grian mouthed the words "I'm sorry" at the screen.

And then his friends' eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed.

Stress and Cleo disappeared in a flash of inky light, both of them crying, one of them shouting, the ice queen with her hand covering he mouth, her eyes wide...

The queen turned, snarling, blocking Mumbo's view of Grian. "Two weeks to get me that egg," she rasped. "Two weeks, and then you can have my son back." A malicious grin split her face. "A portal will open on the Jurassic Plains. Do not question us, humans." She hesitated. "Two weeks, and then you can have the body of your friend back."

And then the screen went black.

Mumbo realized that he was on his feet, that everyone was on their feet, screaming and shouting, that tears were being shed, but all he felt was nausea as he stumbled out of the dark building and threw up in a bush, trying to close his ears to the pandemonium happening inside. Trying to tell himself that what had happened wasn't real, that it was faked...but in his heart, he knew that it had been real.

He just felt sick.

Because Grian...Grian was dead.

Chapter Text

Cleo was angry. Angry and sad - that Grian had sacrificed himself for the ice queen that lay slumbering on the floor of the cave in the Overworld, next to the zombie girl's feet.

 After Grian had fallen unconscious - she refused to believe he was dead, even though she'd see his chest fail to rise and fall - she and Stress had appeared in the middle of a desert after an inky blackness had surrounded them, nothing in sight - probably thousands of blocks away from spawn - no elytra, no food, no weapons, no nothing . But they weren't in the Aether anymore - they weren't in the Aether, and they were free. 

 Stress had collapsed, and Cleo had dragged the ice queen to the nearest enclosed cave, checking for monsters first before she lit a campfire and roasted a desert bunny over it, feeling slightly bad at the loss of life - but at least she and Stress weren't going to die.

 Yet. They still had their angel collars on their neck, and Cleo was afraid that if she died, they wouldn't respawn because of the consistency of the metal around her neck, and be sentenced to a PermaDeath. 

 So they could have one life, and die forever, or they could respawn in their beds - but Cleo wasn't going to take the chance. 

 Stress stirred next to her, and Cleo placed a hand on the ice queen's shoulders as her brown eyes opened blearily. "Hey," the zombie girl said gently. "We're not in the Aether anymore, Stress. We're free.  You're  free."

 Stress stared at her for a second, and then Cleo felt tears poke at each other's eyes as the two girls looked at each other,  knowing  who else should be there - knowing that there should be someone else in the small cave, making the trek back to home, wherever that was. 

 "It's my fault," the ice queen said in a soft voice, and then she was sobbing, and Cleo was sobbing, and they were hugging each other. "It's my FAULT HE'S DEAD!" 

 "No," Cleo said, trying to reason with the girl as she thrashed. "It's not your fault. Grian made the choice - a choice I'm sure any one of us would've made." She breathed out. "Besides, I'm sure the others are looking for us."

 "They probably still think we're still in the Aether," Stress said bitterly, as tears continued to pour out of her bloodshot brown eyes, huddling closer to Cleo for warmth in their angel-made linen dresses. "Magic got us out of there."

 "Teleportation," Cleo said softly. "Whoever our savior was, we owe them our lives." 

 "Grian should be here," Stress says stubbornly. "He should be there,  I   should be dead, he should be here - it's all my fault - "

 "Nobody is going to blame you," Cleo said in a soothing voice. "You know Grian, that selfless bastard." She felt a lump in her throat and swallowed it down, refusing to crumble to tears with Stress and just lie there until both of them starved to death. "He would've blamed himself for not saving you when he was given you the opportunity."

 Stress tugged at the collar and the small length of chain that had been severed that was attached. Cleo fumbled with her own, tugging at it a repetitive attempt to get it off, but she'd tried before, for many days - there was nothing she could do to get it off. Cleo's chain was longer than Stress's, but not by much, and it hung down he back, bumping the bottom of her spine.

 "Get it off," Stress gasped. "Get it OFF!" The final word increased into a scream as her eyes fogged over and she scratched at her own neck, trying to get the damn angel collar off. 

 Cleo grabbed her friend's hands. "Hey, hey," she ventured in her most soothing voice. "Hey. We'll get it off, okay? We're in the Overworld, remember - we'll go to the other hermits, and we'll be safe, and they'll get it off."

 Stress choked back a sob as the zombie girl held her hands firmly. After a moment of paused silence, the girl said, "I can't believe he's gone."

 Cleo felt a piece of her heart break. "I know," she said softly, hugging Stress, the ice queen's body surprisingly warm for what kind of queen she was. "I can't believe it either."

 Stress felt like she was dying.  

 They hadn't known which direction to go; there were no landmarks in sight, nothing except the endless expanse of the desert, the endless heat of it. The only way they got water was because of the green cacti that grew every so often in the blistering sand. 

 She was sure her feet were burned off, but Cleo assured her that they were just red and bore burns. Whatever it was, they hurt like hell. 

 At nights, they took cover in whatever cave they found. During the day, they walked - scourging for rabbit and cacti water, and so much walking.

 They didn't even know if they were going in the right direction.

 On the sixth day, the desert ended, and a birch forest began. And from there, it soaked into a flower forest - a flower forest with blue cornflowers and white lily of the valleys. 

 "Well," Cleo said after a moment as the pair stared down at the two flowers that had been added in the previous Update. "It would've been better to know that we weren't in new chunks...because it would've been easier to find home. But I guess we could find Hermitville than." 

 "We don't even know if we're going the right way," Stress said, the cool metal of the collar settling around her neck as the sun set, and she resisted breaking down and panicking again, resisted reliving everything she'd gone in the Aether because her past was her past - 

 And it could very well be her future if the angels caught them again.

 Cleo snapped her fingers in front of Stress's face, and the ice queen let out a sigh of relief as her vision bled back to normal. There was no new blood - nothing except he burns on her feet, resting in the cool grass, there were no angels who stood over her prone body and laughed. There was nothing except the torn strands of her hair when they'd cut it off, leaving her unable to braid her hair with flowers, and now it sat at her shoulders, light...free.

 Just like she was. 

 "We have to find cover," Cleo said after a moment and started towards the nearest cave, which had a monster spawner in the back of it. They quickly left that, and found another one in the nearby mountains of the beautiful flower forest, just as the sun hit the horizon. 

 They sat in the cave together, a cozy campfire crackling as Stress picked out the finer cactus spines from when she'd taken the water out of the cactus and hadn't gotten all of the spines out. Her hands were sore and bleeding, and just balling them into fists hurt. 

 She rewrapped more torn scraps around her palms, after dipping them in water first, relaxing as the cool water hit her wounds. 

 "How're you feeling?" Cleo asked, as she did the same. 

 Stress shrugged, leaning back against the wall as she tore at the leg of yet another rabbit. If she survived this, she wasn't having rabbit ever again. Not even rabbit stew. The forest rabbits were less stringy than the desert ones, but they were faster because they could eat, unlike the sand bunnies, who were usually slow because of the lack of food and water. "Better."

 They both knew it was a lie. 

 Cleo crossed her legs and redid the bandage around her forearm, grunting as she tugged it closed, blood leaking down her arm. "I hope that doesn't get infected," she said, pointing to the ugly gash across Stress's face. She tied the wet and clean bandage closed in a pretty knot, tighter than it had been the other day. 

 The ice queen lifted a hand to the disfigured flesh, feeling the scab that went from the inside of her left eyebrow to her right cheek. "I sure hope not." 

 Cleo gave a rough laugh. "The good thing about being a zombie is that mine can't get infected." She shifted in her position, cradling her left arm. "Sure hurts like hell, though."

 Stress squinted at Cleo, and noticed that the bruises on her body weren't fading - just like her own. The hits the angels had administered must be long-lasting, which was a pain. "I wonder what the others are doing right now."

 Cleo shrugged. "Tomorrow is the end of the first week. They're probably going to give the egg up." She said the last part bitterly. "The source of our world's magic - that would explain a lot." 

 "Just keep walking," Stress said tiredly, as she put her foot up, her eyelids half-closing from walking all day. 

 "Just keep walking," Cleo muttered as well, looking towards the entrance of the cave, and the full moon that blossomed in the sky.

Chapter Text

Iskall felt like shit.

 Actually, all of the hermits felt like shit. They couldn't do anything for two weeks - and they were told to go home and think on whether or not they should give up the egg to the angels by Xisuma, who looked like shit as well. 

 Poor Mumbo was a mess, and refused to sleep, going out on patrol after patrol with the rest of the hermits in duo groups, looking for the friend that Iskall knew would never be found.

  Grian isn't dead , Iskall told himself as he clutched his newly formed demon-forged sword, the blue-silver metal glittering in the sunlight. Beside him, Wels fashioned arrowheads, attaching them to arrows. They were all miserable.  Grian isn't dead . 

 But they had all seen it.

 And they had all felt the raw horror that clutched the pits of their stomachs as they saw their friend fall - Iskall didn't care that Grian was apparently some prince of the angels - he was their friend, and now he was dead. 

 They had all felt it.

 And to be killed by an angel was PermaDeath. 

 Stress and Cleo had been teleported by the angels' magic to wherever they were before, but he hadn't seen the inky magic form around the  body  of his friend, he hadn't seen his friend disappear.

 And the words of the queen kept coming back to him - the words of Grian's supposed  mother , who had flung a knife and killed her own son. Iskall hadn't seen a touch of regret in the angel's eyes, though there was anger that Stress had spoken up.

 Stress.

 Amazing, sweet, Stress - one of his best friends, and the ice queen. He had known her for a very long time, but to see that look in her eyes, as if she'd given up, as if she was  dead  inside - it made Iskall's heart wither. Especially since Stress had been the one supposed to die, and Grian had taken the knife that had been aimed for one of his oldest friends' hearts. 

 And Cleo - valiant, scary, dangerous Cleo had been fighting, but she  never  cried - that said something. That said a lot. 

 And everyone knew it. 

 They wanted Stress and Cleo back before another one died. But Xisuma said that giving up the dragon egg was dangerous - through the Admin wouldn't elaborate. 

 The clash of metal filled the air as False coaxed Scar through some drills, the poor landscaper nearly skewering himself with the heavy demon metal. But he had to learn - they  all  had to learn. 

 Xisuma had told everyone to travel in pairs, to keep their communicators open, to bring invisibility pots and enderpearls and all of the in-between - but Iskall got the feeling that it was only to make the hermits better.

 The only way to escape the angels were to kill them, and as one of the more PVP skilled hermits, along with False and Wels, the duty fell to him.

 He turned his sword in his hands and wondered if Xisuma would give up the egg for the trio - or the duo -  he  certainly would. He would do anything for his friends.

 And he knew Grian would've too, which is why he had taken the knife for Stress. 

 In the corner over, Doc fashioned some tech that he and Cub had designed, something to scan for angel metal and blare the alarms if anything was found. For now, the hermits had taken to staying in Hermitville, where the video call was - just in case something happened. Every day, patrols were sent out both around the Shopping District and Hermitville, but nothing was ever found.

 Nothing except the beeping remains of ZombieCleo's communicator.

 Iskall's communicator beeped, and he took it out, looking at it warily.

|Zedaph| North Shopping District group, checking in. All clear. Heading back now. Impulse is with me.

|Tango| Western Hermitville group, checking in. Nothing. Returning home w/ Joe as we speak.

|TinfoilChef| Southern Hermitville group, checking in. All is clear. Heading back to base rn. Ren is fine. 

 On and on, it went, as the sun set and the various groups started returning. Iskall redied his elytra, glancing at Wels for confirmation as the knight strung his bow, putting the arrows into its pouch. 

 False and Scar took off their practice armor, regaining their modified armor; diamond with runes of demon-forged lava ingrained into it. Iskall touched his own runes, ones that Xisuma has said would protect them briefly from an angel's blade.

 And in a flower forest, thousands of miles away, two figures walked closer.

Chapter Text

Stress and Cleo limped on, the zombie girl pale and shaking as they took step after step into the taiga. She'd been shot by a skeleton three days prior - now the tenth day - and the wound had festered in her zombified skin, and it hurt to walk now, according to Cleo. 

 "Come on," Stress gasped, biting her lip as the spruce forest swayed before her. She could've sworn she recognized it - but it was a spruce taiga, just a biome; there were probably hundreds of taigas... "Come on, Cleo, just a little bit longer - "

 Cleo mumbled something incoherently under her breath as her green eyes slid shut for a second.  

 Stress shook the girl as much as it was possible from the zombie girl leaning on her. "Just a bit further," she said. "Ten steps."

 "You said that hours ago, Stress," Cleo muttered, a small smile poking at her lips. "Multiple times, if I remember."

 Stress sobbed as she crumpled, unable to hold her friend's weight. Gods, why did she have to be so weak? So utterly  useless  - she couldn't even catch a rabbit anymore, she was too weak to walk, and they barely ate enough from the berry bushes they sometimes found...

 "Just...a little rest..." Cleo muttered from her position on the ground.

 "No," Stress ground out, remembering Iskall's survival guides. "If we stop now, we will never continue. Just a bit further, I promise." The ice queen dragged Cleo up, until she was taking most of the weight. The collar ground around her neck, blood leaking down her back and chest where the collar bit into her tired body. 

 And in the horizon, Stress saw a house rise out of the render distance fog, a house made of spruce and towering, not fully built yet, just like the creator's base in the Modern District. Grian's half-built house, which looked much like a house described in a Harry Potter book. 

 "I can see it," she called to Cleo, whose eyelids drooped dangerously closer to being closed. "I can see it. Just...a little bit...further."

 The span of hundreds of blocks felt like days to Stress as she dragged Cleo closer. She looked up, looking for the telltale sign of fireworks - why weren't there any? Why weren't any hermits flying through the skies?

 And on the treeline into Hermitville, Stress slipped over a tripwire.

 She nearly sobbed as the sharp gravel tore into her knees, stumbling to the wall next to the entrance to regain her breath as she picked off rocks from the bloody crevices in her knees. 

 Alarms blared from the trap she'd set off - good, maybe they'd come, as she leaned against the wall that outlined Hermitville - 

 "Step out into the doorframe, angel," came a voice from inside the wall - and Stress halted, she knew that voice. Knew it as surely as she knew Cleo's, knew Grian's -  Iskall . 

 She heard the shuffling of many elytras and the drawing of many swords, and she got the feeling Iskall wasn't the only hermit that lay beyond the wall - there were lots of them. 

 And with one last burst of effort, Stress hauled Cleo up, bridal-style, gasping as her bones quivered, and stepped from the side of the wall into the open.

 The alarms blared - one of the tripwires had been tripped. Iskall was the first one to grab his sword and go lurching towards the entrance, hoping it was only one of the other hermits - but as they followed them, and Iskall looked at the worried faces of all the hermits - they were all accounted for.

 Minus the trio that had gone missing, of course. 

 He could see a gravel divot where the angel had tripped - odd, considering they had wings, and he could see the footprints - two pairs of footprints? - leading not into Hermitville, but to the side of it, as if they'd taken cover.

 Beside him, False drew her weapon, and Wels and a few others aimed their bows at the doorway. 

 "Step out of the doorframe, angel," Iskall said, in a stronger voice than he thought he had. Behind him, he felt Mumbo draw his blade, the noise of weapons being drawn filling the courtyard. 

 There was silence. A huff. Hermits tilted their heads right to listen. Not a person moved. 

 And then a girl who should've been wearing a pink cardigan, who should've been in her icy home, stepped into the doorframe, and all Iskall could shout was  Don't shoot don't shoot don't shoot  as Stressmonster101, carrying an unconcious ZombieCleo bridal style, stepped into the doorframe. 

 There was silence as the two groups looked at each other.

 And then Ren dropped his sword, and the spell was broken, and Iskall was rushing towards Stress, who was crying, tears running down her face as Iskall got there just in time to catch his friend from collapsing, and someone took Cleo out of Stress's hands, and they were hugging and he was whispering  you're okay you're okay you're okay  but she really wasn't - her hair was shorter like in the video call, and she looked worse in the ten days since he'd seen her from a distance, and the partially healed wound on her face looked like it really hurt - but she was  here , and she   and Cleo were  home .

 Hermits surrounded them, asking questions, but Stress didn't answer, only shook her head as she cried, crying tears of joy, Iskall hoped - but he knew otherwise, knew that the ice queen had gone through things from literal nightmares, and she wasn't climbing out of that pit anytime soon. 

 "STOP!"

 Xisuma's booming voice filled the area, and everyone stopped talking at once, until there was silence, the crunching of gravel and Stress's sniffles the only sounds. 

 On the ground, Cleo stirred, her orange hair slimy and filled with sticks and stained with blood - but she wasn't dead and she  stirred , before opening her eyes and staring at Joe, who was tending to her shoulder wound.

 "Am I dead?" the zombie girl asked dazedly. She sat up suddenly, her eyes going to all the hermits. "Oh no! Did that rabbit kill me?" 

 Laughter filled the area, some nervous laughter, some regular, loud laughter at Cleo's antics. 

 "Sorry, Cleo," Joe said solemnly. "It was a skeleton, not a rabbit, that had the misfortune of hitting you on your collarbone." He reached into his inventory and handed her a health potion, which the girl drank gratefully.

 But even as her wounds cleared, the one on her shoulder remained - and Iskall knew that no matter how many health potions they gave to Stress, she'd have that scar on her face forever. 

 Cleo lay back on the ground, throwing an arm over her face. "I'm never having rabbit again," the girl declared. "I'm sick of it."

 Xisuma coughed, and caught Cleo's attention. "So, Cleo - how did you escape."

 Cleo snorted. "Escape, yeah right - more like  set free ." Her face fell at the notion, and Iskall stiffened - he got the feeling he wasn't going to much like the words that came out of the zombie girl's lips next.

 And he was right. 

 "It was...after the video call," the girl said softly. "We just got teleported to a desert, far away, and I picked a direction and walked, and then I got shot and Stress took over, and we walked and we walked and we must've gotten here." She hesitated before continuing. "Nine days ago, I guess."

 Stress lifted her head and looked at Cleo. "Ten," she corrected. "It was ten days, and then I tripped over that stupid  wire, and banged my knees...and well, here we are." Joe tossed Iskall a healing pot, who handed it to Stress, the ice queen taking it and gulping the entire thing down. 

 Her wounds faded, but a white scar now adorned her face. Iskall doubted Stress would care much, though looking at it would remind her of all she'd faced. 

 "And what about..." Mumbo asked, his sword still in his hand, his knuckles white. Nobody could finish the silence, and it was tense as Cleo and Stress looked at each other, as if fighting a silent battle. 

 Cleo won. 

 "He's dead," the zombie girl said in a choked voice, as Stress looked at her hands again, her brown eyes trying not to spill the tears that welled there. "We saw it.  I  saw it. Hell, I'm just going to take a wild guess that you already knew that, and you just wanted confirmation that it wasn't some illusion." She snorted. "It wasn't. He stopped breathing. And he didn't fade away, like you do when you respawn." 

 Instead of tense silence, the stillness that falls after Cleo's words is heartbreaking. 

 "Well," Mumbo said, in a much calmer voice than Iskall could ever hope to muster. "One thing is for certain - we aren't going to give up that egg in four days."

 "Or ever," False said, just as coolly. "If anything,  they're  going to give up something."

 "What's that?" Cleo asked curiously.

 And False, Wels, Mumbo, Xisuma, and Iskall all spoke in unison.

  " Their lives."

Chapter Text

 Cleo sat at the edge of the medical bed while Doc tried to pry off the collar around her neck using any means possible. After a few hours of using everything from his bare hands to a pair of diamond shears with white runes that Joe told her was angel-killing metal, he eventually stepped back with a sigh.

 "Sorry, Cleo," Doc told her, and for the first time he'd ever apologized to her, he actually sounded sorry. "I...dont' know what to do. I can't get it off."

 Cleo sighed and rubbed her neck. The wound below it had disappeared when she'd taken her healing potion, but it still itched. Even though she'd long since taken a shower, and adopted some new clothing, which felt way better than the torn dress she'd had on for around seventeen days straight, it still itched. "It's okay," she said wearily. "I know you tried your best." She motioned over to the bed next to her, where Stress lay curled in a ball, a pink blanket that Iskall had retrieved from her bed back in her icy castle circled around her. "It's not me I'm worried about."

 Doc's mechanical eye hisses as he sighed. "You should be worried," he told her. "You were right to not just try to respawn...the collar would kill you once you're inches from death, resulting in a PermaDeath."

 "Which only proves Grian's death even more," Cleo said in a soft voice. 

 Doc nodded solemnly. "Look, I know how it looks - Grian and I didn't even look like we got along, but we were great friends." The half-creeper sighed and rubbed his head. "Everyone was. He's...he was a great guy."

 "I know," Cleo said in a low voice. 

 "Look, it's nearly midnight, how about you follow Stress's style and get some sleep?" Doc said gently, turning to go. "You'll be safe in the bunker?"

 As Doc opened the door, Cleo called after him. "Doc? Do you think it would be okay to get a...hermit who's awake in here? They can do whatever they want...I just...Stress and I took turns taking watch at night during those ten days, and in the Aether...there were screams that kept us up." 

 Doc smiled far more gently that Cleo would've ever thought possible as Cleo leaned back in the bed. "Of course," he said.

 And Cleo was doubly glad that he kept the lights on without asking if she wanted them off. She'd had one - or seventeen - too many nights of darkness. 

 About five minutes later, False walked into the makeshift hospital/bedroom, wearing her sword that was inscribed with the angel-killing runes across her back, and bearing a book in Galactic. "Hey," the fighter said, sitting down gently on the edge of Cleo's bed. There was not a single ounce of judgment in the girl's eyes. "It's nice to see you, Cleo." 

 Cleo tugged the purple fluffy blanket over her body, squirming in its softness. "It's nice to be back here." 

 "As one girl to another," False said with a slight hesitation. "Did they ever - "

 "No," Cleo said shortly, and she heard False's sigh of relief. "But...they threatened it."

 "Just another reason to end them," False said firmly, as she sat down on the carpeted floor between Cleo and Stress's beds and opened the book. "I just need to inscribe some more custom runes into my weapon, and Joe's trying to teach us all Galactic at the same time, so..."

 "You have three days," Cleo said sleepily. "It'll be enough time."

 False nodded her head, her goggles bouncing. "We'll rain hell down upon their entire world," she said firmly. "And then I'll torture the information about how to get that damned thing off your neck  myself ."

 "Leave a bit for me," Cleo said in a teasing voice. 

 She almost heard  False smile. 

 "Of course."

 Iskall peered into the room where False was reading her Ancient Runes in Galactic, the fighter getting up and walking over to him when she saw them. 

 Cleo and Stress were sleeping peacefully - minus the frown that lay on Stress's face, Cleo all but wrapped up in her blanket. He noticed with a frown that both of the females still wore their collars. 

 "Couldn't get them off?" he said in a low whisper. 

 False shook her head sadly. "Doc and Cub are looking for more answers, but I feel like we'll have to ask the angels ourselves."

 Iskall snorted. "Bro, in three days we'll be  fighting  the angels, not asking them questions."

 False grinned darkly. "I didn't mean ask in a  nice  way."

 Iskall was silent for a second as he pondered False's words. "Ah. I see."

 False nodded. "So. How're the others doing? Getting better at PVP, I'd hope."

 Iskall sighed and rubbed his face. His diamond eye itched, a sign he needed sleep - something he, False, and Wels weren't getting a lot of lately. "They are getting better," he said weakly. "Gradually. Scar is definitely improving, as is Ren, but I'm sorry to say that Mumbo is as weak as ever." 

 False snorted. "Of course he is," she said, but there was a touch of resolve in her voice. "Well, we'll have to push them all harder then," she said. "Even X. They  all  need to learn."

 Iskall grinned wearily, saluting False. "As you say, Queen of Hearts and Body Parts."

Chapter Text

 Stress hadn't realized she was screaming when Iskall shook her awake, the Architect looking at her worriedly. Actually - False and Mumbo were there too, so she'd bothered them, hadn't she?

 "Sorry," she managed.

 Iskall blinked at her. "Are you  apologizing  for having nightmares?" he asked incredulously. 

 "...no," Stress said sheepishly, wiping the sweat away from her forehead. 

 On the other bed over, Cleo was sitting up and yawning, and Stress got the sinking feeling she'd bothered the zombie girl as well. 

 "I couldn't wake you up," Mumbo said. "I took a shift in here - " Stress opened her mouth, and Mumbo cut her off. " - and I swear, if you tell me that you're a bother and that I didn't have to do that, I will throw you in a TNT cannon." The redstoner hesitated. "Well, okay, not really. But I couldn't sleep because of the current events, and this seemed like a nice place to draw out some of the designs for the swords I'm using."

 Stress felt even worse, now, because it was her damn fault that Grian was dead - because she'd opened her big mouth and made the angel queen throw a dagger at her, which in turn her son had sacrificed himself for her. 

 "Stress." 

 Stress looked over at Cleo, who had a dangerous look in her eyes. "Don't you  dare ," the zombie girl said. "We aren't starting this again."

 Iskall, Mumbo, and False all had curious looks in their eyes as they watched the exchange. 

 "But - " Stress said. 

 Cleo was out of the bed and grabbing Stress by the shoulders. "It is  not your fault . Stop  blaming  yourself for everything that has happened. Stop telling yourself that you're such a bother to everyone, because you're  not ." She gestured wildly at the three other hermits in the room. "Tell me you would've done the same for them."

 "Of course," Stress said. "But - "

 "And they are doing the same for you," Cleo said. "They are merely being  good friends  - you aren't a bother to them, or me, or anyone. What happened was not your choice, and trust me when I say that the angels with fucking  pay  for what they've done." Stress startled when she heard Cleo swear, and pushed her way out of the group on unsteady feet.

 "I - um, I have to go to the bathroom," the ice queen said, feeling tears prick at the corner of her eyes as the backed out of the room.

 "What was that about?" she heard Iskall ask Cleo.

 "She blames herself for Grian's death," she heard the zombie girl say, but there was no disgust in her voice, only sadness. "And it's tearing her apart."

 Stress sobbed as she ran through the halls, dodging down tunnels in the new bunker that had been made while she'd been in the Aether, trying to avoid the other hermits as tears splashed down her face and onto the cool concrete ground, leaving water in her wake as she ran. 

 It was her fault.

 It was all her fault.

 If only she'd flown faster, she'd have been able to get out of the angels' grip seventeen days ago. If only she wasn't so damn useless at flying - if only, if only, if only. If only she hadn't tried to contact the hermits on the other end of the video screen, saying the words that Cleo and Grian couldn't say out loud. If only she hadn't shut the world out during those days in captivity, and the angel queen would've silenced her too, and Grian would still be alive. If only she hadn't just stood there like an absolute fool while Grian jumped in front of her. If only she'd just died like she was supposed to, and then the builder would still be alive. 

 "Stress?"

 Stress looked up at the voice of Mumbo, who was standing at the end of the hallway from where she'd collided into the wall and had just sat down on the floor after that, clutching her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm so, so sorry - "

 Mumbo smiled sorrowfully as he walked over and sat down near her, his elytra resting against the wall. "Now, I'm not Cleo," he said gently. "But I believe she would've wanted me to shake you silly until you understood that it's not your fault that...that...he's dead. Nobody is blaming you."

 " I'm  blaming me," Stress said with a sniffle. 

 "You shouldn't," Mumbo said, stressing the last word. "Stress, if it were your fault, I wouldn't be mad at you, unless it was on purpose.  Was  it on purpose?"

 "No."

 "Exactly," Mumbo said. "Grian did what he thought was best, the stupid, reckless fool. You would've done the same for him. Any one of us would've done the same for each other. Grian made a choice, and we all have to honor that choice, damn the consequences. That's not saying I won't yell at his spirit for the decision, because there were probably better ways of going around it - but if he were to stand here, you wouldn't be here, and then I bet that Grian would be blaming himself because he had the opportunity to save you and didn't take it."

 "Yell at his spirit?" Stress asked, raising her eyebrows, wiping at the tears that slid down her face. 

 Mumbo laughed. "Yeah - he told me that if he died early he'd haunt me forever." His smile faded. "It was a joke, but I guess...that joke came to pass." Mumbo leaned his head back against the wall. "It's odd, remembering him in his red sweater and grey jeans and his contagious laugh and his stupid pranks - absolutely  stupid  - and his unfinished base, knowing that he won't ever pop up and say hello to you again, even though you can picture it so clearly, and sometimes you wake up with a prank on the edge of your tongue, and you want to go prank him, but reality sinks in..."

 "And you realize he's well and truly gone," Stress said in a soft voice.

 Mumbo sighed, and Stress finally saw the exhaustion that lay in the redstoner, the bags that lay under his eyes, the way his hands shifted as he played with his red tie. "Mumbo...when was the last time you slept?"

 Mumbo stared at the opposite wall guiltily. "I suppose it's a bit like you," he said after a moment. "I'm afraid to sleep because I'm haunted by my memories of him, and I wake up laughing or crying because he's always so  vibrant  and  real  in my dreams...but he's dead and gone." Mumbo rubbed a hand through his hair. "And I'm trying to get better at PVP so I can fight the angels for him, because I'm absolute rubbish at PVP, unlike Iskall, or False, or Wels, or even Grian, who was all over the place but at least he knew the basics, and I feel as if I'm more a burden than a help in this war, but Xisuma needs every person available." 

 "I know how you feel," Stress said softly. "I feel as if I'm bothering everyone by making them look after me, but they keep telling me they're not bothered in the slightest, but something in me is telling me that they  are  bothered and refuse to tell me." She sighed. "I know it's stupid...but I've never been particularly good at PVP either, but I also know that I'm going to have to fight." Her hands went to the collar around her neck. "Not that they'll let me out of the bunker anyway."

 Mumbo eyed her. "You have a point there," the redstoner muttered. "Sorry, Stress, but that collar means PermaDeath if you die up there from a creeper or a zombie, or even from falling in a ravine. The Jurassic Plains

will be different because  everyone  will only have one life...but now, we need to get the collars off." He waves a hand to stop Stress from talking as she opened her mouth. "And  stop  saying that you wouldn't want to bother anyone. We need to know more about angel technology anyway. You know what they say - 'Know your enemy and know yourself and you can fight a hundred battles without disaster.'"

 "We only need to fight one battle," Stress pointed out.

 Mumbo laughed. "Yeah. Right. That's going to be hard enough. There are few of us, and many of them."

 "But we have the element of surprise," Stress pointed out.

 "Which reminds me," Mumbo said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a communicator decorated in drawings of ice. "Your communicator is the only one that surprised. X is configuring Cleo's right now, but I thought..."

 "Thanks," Stress said, taking the communicator and signing in using her fingerprint. The device felt familiar under her fingertips; normal - homely. 

  |Stressmonster101| hey guys i fink i got my communicator working again ;)

  |Zedaph| YEAHHHH!!!! :D

  |impulsesv| Hello Stress!

  |Tango| On behalf of my group, ZIT welcomes you back!

  |Falsesymmetry| yeah sorry Tango but I'm pretty sure nobody here wants any zits; but I have some moisturizing cream if you want it heh

  |Tango| ...

  |Falsesymmetry| that was for the 'false alarm' pun :P

  |joehillssays| Welcome home, Stress.

 Stress smiled as she typed, feeling more at home than ever, and finally ignored the aching pit in her stomach that told her to run and not look back, that way she wouldn't be a bother anymore. 

  |Stressmonster101| Thanks guys

Chapter Text

 False stood in the Jurassic Plains, her sword nicknamed  Celeste  attached to her back, painted with blue paint to cover the angel-killing runes Xisuma has specifically designed at her advice, her shield in her other hand. She'd wanted a sword that could kill the angels, as did everyone else, but the more PVP-inclined hermits had gotten the choice of their type of weapon.

 And so False stood with a slightly curved one-and-a-half hand blade strapped to her back, praying that the runes did not shine through the thick paint until it was too late. 

 Xisuma stood behind her and Iskall, holding the dragon egg in his hands - but that was merely part of the game, they weren't going to actually give it up.

 Not after they had Stress and Cleo back, not after all they'd gone through.

 Iskall had his game on face on, two shortswords attached to his sides, also painted. False had named her sword  Celeste  because it meant heavenly - an ironic name for an angel-killing blade, but Iskall had named his  Illusion  and  Delusion . 

 The other fifteen hermits sat in the trees situated around the small named plains, carrying invisibility potions and bows with demon-forged metal as arrow tips instead of the usual flint, their odd assemble of knives and swords (unnamed) attached to them as well. 

  "Aim at one of them once I give the command," Xisuma had said. "Doesn't matter if another hermit is already aiming at one - they might not go down with one arrow, anyway. Just aim at one, and aim well - and when I give the signal, fire, drop down, and kill them."

  False had stepped forward next. "Now," she said. "There is a queen, as I'm sure you're all aware." Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Stress flinch. "Do  not  engage with her. She is a queen - she will be their most powerful, the most dangerous of them all. If you engage her one-on-one, fight to defend, not to kill." She looked at the scared and disbelieving faces of the other hermits. "If there are two or three of you, you have a chance, but I do not recommend it. Take out the others first, and then we can all face the queen together."

  "But she certainly won't be standing there the entire time," Impulse said worriedly, turning his dagger in his hand. 

  "And that's where the dragon egg comes in," Iskall said with a nod. "Xisuma will be holding it - and I bet you my diamond eye that will be her main priority. Now, False and I will be with Xisuma in the center of the Jurassic Plains, waiting for them."

  "Yeah, because a trio facing a bunch of angels worked real well last time," TFC had put in, fingering the arrows attached to his hip. 

  "That's why you all will be carrying slowfall potions as well," Welsknight says next. "The moment you fire, do not hesitate, because they will aim for the egg. If we have more than three down there at a time, they will suspect. Because False, X, and Iskall will already be carrying weapons they will already be suspicious. We cannot let them know of our plans until it is too late." 

  False hefted her shield. "We may not survive," she said honestly. "But we will try. We cannot let the angels take everything from us and walk away without a fight. We will stand here, and we will either win, or we will fall."

  Iskall nodded. "False and I will be occupying the queen's time while you all take out the other angels," he said, and his gaze went specifically to Mumbo. "Do not falter. Do not hesitate. They will kill you, and then you will be dead forever." 

  Silence filled the room after Iskall's words. "What's the command?" Tango asked nervously. 

  "When I say  no ," Xisuma said, tapping the dragon egg with his hand. "When I finally refuse them to give up the egg, they will be entirely focused on us - and  that  is when you attack."

 Lightning flashed through the clear sky, startling False out of her memories. 

 And then a pure white tear cracks in the middle of the Jurassic Plains, and False itched to reach for her sword, to bury it in the heart of the angel queen who came forth from the portal in a blood-red silk dress and bearing a silver crown in her golden hair. 

 Another girl follows her out, younger, her disposition much like Stress's had been when they'd seen her through the video call, her eyes downcast. She doesn't even carry a weapon, unlike the angel queen, who bears two slightly curved swords. 

 Twelve more angels file out behind the younger angel girl and the queen, all of them dressed in full battle-armor, their white wings flapping as they stare down Iskall, Xisuma, and False. She tries not to shiver under their intense gazes. All her life she'd been told angels were good - but these people had that  look  about them that made them evil. 

 The queen, the angel-girl, and the twelve warriors file out, stopping ten feet from the trio. False can see out of the corners of her eyes the grimace that threatens to take over Iskall's face - and she knows that it takes everything in the two warriors not to fling themselves into certain death at the fourteen angels. 

 "So." The angel queen spoke first after a moment of awkward silence. "I see you have the egg." 

 "I see you don't have your bargaining token," Iskall said before False elbowed him to silence. No need to make the angels attack before their plan began.

 "Ah," the angel queen said, her eyes glimmering with menace. "Yes. You wanted my son."

 "And we want the two other girls," Xisuma chimed in, going through with the plan that had been devised by the group two days prior. 

 The queen tilted her head. "Of course. I  always  honor my deals. I'll give you my son, and then you'll give me the egg, and then I'll give you - what were their names?" False gritted her teeth - all of the hermits knew that the zombie girl and the ice queen were already rescued. The queen had no plans on keeping that part of the deal. 

 "Stress and Cleo," the angel-girl said from beside the queen, surprising False. 

 The angel queen did not look happy with the girl's interference in the conversation. "Lily," she said simply, dismissing the girl. "Go get your brother."

 Lily nodded, her blonde hair waving in the wind as she ruffled her wings together, her eyes going up to meet False's - the same shade that Grian had, a deep brown. But unlike Grian's, Lily's was filled with unkempt anger and sadness. 

 Lily snapped her fingers and disappeared in a flash of golden light, and False realized too late that the angel girl,  Lily , was Grian's sister. She hadn't even known that Grian had a sister. Then again, she hadn't known a lot about Grian's past at all, apparently. 

 "So...I didn't know Grian had a mother that was alive," False said, trying to preserve her sanity.

 The queen sighed and placed a hand over her heart. "Yes, I believe he was ashamed of me. I can't imagine why." 

  Yeah, gee, why would he absolutely despise you?  False said to herself, trying not to let her inner smile touch her outer features. "Do you know why he left the Aether?"

 The queen shrugged. "No idea." But the secret glimmer in her eyes gave away the idea that she had an impression - or worse, had been the cause of it. 

 Lily reappeared in a flash of golden light, clutching a body to her chest. False was surprised that the girl's skinny arms could carry the weight of...

 ...of Grian. 

 Because that was who Lily carried gently in her arms, as she stared down at her brother and lowered him to the ground softly. It  was  Grian, even though he had angel wings that were black as night, darker than the night sky, opposing his sister's wings. 

 And it was Grian in his red sweater that he always wore, and it was Grian whose chest did not rise and fall, and it was Grian who had a rip in his shirt where a dagger had previously been buried. Any other color shirt, and False knew that a bloodstain would've rested there. But Lily lowered him to the ground, tenderness and sadness in her gaze, and False got the feeling the girl cared for her brother. 

 Which was more than she could say for Grian's mother, who merely sniffed as Lily stayed in her kneeling position on the ground, not rising to the queen's side like she was probably supposed to. 

 False felt a hand touch her own, and she slowly unclenched her fists to touch Iskall's hand, as they gripped the hands of each other so they would not grip their swords, so they would not die - not yet, not now.

 False wondered how Mumbo was taking it as she stared down at Grian, whose eyes were closed, sandy hair stained with blood that she doubted had been from the day he died - he had probably been tortured like Stress and Cleo, before giving up his life for the ice queen. 

 "The egg," the queen said simply, holding out her hand. 

 "No way," False bit out. "Give us Grian first." 

 The queen opened her mouth to respond, anger flashing in her brown eyes, but Lily spoke first. "If you must know," the girl said quietly, her voice shaking ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry that I couldn't stop it."

 The angel queen hissed and turned, backhanding her daughter across the face, and even False winced as Lily's head snapped to the side, nasty and bloody fingernail trails in her pale skin. But even as Lily's head snapped to the side from the force of her mother's gaze, False saw the angel girl's gaze go up into the trees, and knew that the angel had seen one of the hermits. 

 The game was up. 

 False was about to rush the angel queen so they still retained the element of surprise, but Lily merely turned her head back and sat in the same position, winking at False ever so slightly before her gaze became downcast once more. 

 "The egg," the queen demanded. 

 "Grian," Iskall retorted. 

 The angel queen stepped closer, and False resisted the urge to look away from the queen's deathly silver eyes, resisted the urge to cower. "You are mere  humans ," she said coldly. "You're lucky I'm making a deal with you at all. We could wipe you out with a single blow."

 "I'd like to see you try," Iskall snarled. 

 The angel queen's eyes flashed. "Give me the egg,  boy ," she snapped. "Before I'll take it from you using force."

 And it was neither False nor Iskall who spoke next, but Xisuma.

 "No." 

 And then all hell broke loose as Lily's head snapped up and a barrier appeared around her and Grian, just as an arrow was about to shatter her skull. Faster than False would've thought possible, as she and Iskall drew their weapons, the angel queen drew her blade and cut in half three arrowheads aiming for her skull.

 And around the battlefield, arrows hit and arrows missed. False saw at least three angels fall instantly, the others either missing or dodged by the warriors, as hermits leaped from the trees, gliding in the air with no wings of their own, dressed in armor as their potions faded, revealing armor with demon-forged lava ingrained in the diamond, attacking the angels.

 And she and Iskall leaped at the queen, who turned in time to draw her other blade, stopping False, who was inches from the queen's neck, and stopping both of Iskall's with her other sword. 

 False saw a glow enter the queen's eyes, and knew that the angel had tried to use her abilities, whatever they were - but she felt cold and shivered as she kicked up at the queen, at the same time rolling and swinging at the queen's ankles. Magic melted off her and Iskall, as the telekinesis barriers failed to work on their enchanted armor, and the queen hissed as she stepped back, jumping over False's swing deftly and using both of her blades to parry one of Iskall's, kicking the other one away at the flat of the blade using her left foot. 

 False was already tired from the sheer force of the queen. She was already tired, she was already sweating - but she roared a battle-cry and rushed at the queen again, Iskall circling around to the queen's back as the Swedish man stabbed at the queen as well. 

 And all around them, the clash of swords on swords echoed in the forests for many miles around.

 And all around them, hermits and angels fell as one, as opponents, as people who were fighting for their own rights, as hermits who wanted revenge for the death of one dearest to many of them.

Chapter Text

 Mumbo has a cut on his cheek as he and Wels attacked an angel, him clumsily parrying the angel's swipe. Blood dripped down his face, staining his precious mustache, and he couldn't help but glance over at the girl that the queen had referred to as Grian's  sister  - he hadn't even got the inkling of an idea that Grian ever had a sister - at his friend's prone body in the grass, his black wings limp on the ground.

 "Head in the game, Mumbo!" Wels yelped as he barely dodged another blow from the angel. "I can't be doing all the work around here!"

 Mumbo gave a short nod and returned to attempting to use his lessons from False and Iskall for the past week to good use, but the angel is so damn  fast , faster than either of the two esteemed warriors had ever gone against him, and he wanted to turn to look to see if False and Iskall were still alive, but Wels was right - he couldn't do this alone.

 And so praying that the two leading warriors still lived, he returned his attention to the angel, clumsily stabbing at one of its wings.

 The battle wasn't going well.

 Stress was terrified of the angel who swiped at her with his scythe, because she recognized him - and he sure as hell recognized her, because he was the one who cut her hair off. He was one of the ones who whispered terrifying things in her ear while she’d screamed and begged and sobbed.

 Three angels had died on the arrows’ impact, leaving nine alive for the rest of them to deal with - not including the queen and the girl who had stood by the queen's throne in the Aether; Grian's sister. 

 Tango fought by her side with his sword, a better swordsman than her, but not by much. The angel was damn good, and because Stress was terrified - too terrified to be a good fighter, so it's essentially a 1v1 without her.

 Tango finally found a crevice in the angel's armor and stabbed into it, a spray of blood as the angel snarled and leaped away, one of his hands clutching the place where blood now freely dripped out from his silver armor. He'd tried to use his magic when they had first floated from the trees, and Stress had felt some relief at the coldness that had seeped into her being before the angel had snarled in annoyance and drawn his scythe. 

 She could only hope that everyone remained alive.

 Cleo snarled as she drove her knife into the angel's neck, blood spewing out of the artery that she'd severed, as one of the angels who'd tortured her died a long painful death, with her staring down at it. Beside her, Impulse clapped her on the arm, and from a distance, Scar nodded warily, drawing his bow and aiming at another angel. 

 Cleo felt a dangerous delight flutter in her chest as she got her long-lasted revenge, as death rattles filled the air of the brown-haired, green-eyed angel. 

 She spat next to his skull. "That's what you fucking deserve," she snarled, before following Impulse onto their next opponent. " That's what you get for messing with Cleo ." 

 Four down, eight to go. 

 Xisuma couldn't do anything but protect the egg as an angel leaped at him, blocked by Jevin, who was now fighting in a one versus one scenario, the half-slime man desperately parrying the double swords the white-haired angel bore as they both sought for victory. 

 The Admin felt useless as he drew his bow and fired at the arrow, trying not to hit Jevin as he fought for his life.

 And suddenly Impulse joined the fight, swinging his sword, and the odds favored the hermits, and Xisuma saw that Impulse and Cleo had beaten their angel, who lay on the ground in a pool of ever-growing blood, and the Admin wondered if it had been Cleo who'd bestowed the final blow, the angry light in her eyes that made him question the zombie girl's sanity occasionally. 

 They were winning. 

 The white-haired angel fell, and Impulse high-fived Tango, a wicked grin on the brown-haired hermit's face. 

 And then a scream echoed across the plains. 

 Xisuma turned to the angel queen and her two combatants with dread in his heart as Iskall was suddenly flung twenty feet to hit a tree, rolling to the base, blood staining his head, his weapons left near False, who picked one of her friend's blades up and continued her desperate fight. 

 And nobody could get any nearer, not Cleo who rushed for her female friend, not Impluse or Jevin, for there was a barrier, a silver barrier around the pair - and the rest of the hermits were losing.

 Xisuma spun to see Joe go down, a nasty gash splitting his stomach, and Zedaph, who was fighting the same angel, cried out as the flat of his opponent's blade hit him directly across the face, throwing him back head-over-heels. 

 He had to protect the egg.

 If he did not, the world would fall. The angel queen could never take a worlds’ power - nobody could ever hope to defeat her then.

 False snarled as she was forced on her back, holding Iskall's blade in her left hand and  Celeste  in her right, holding the angel queen's blades inches from her face, fighting the terror that pounded in her veins as she both fought the queen and prayed that Iskall wasn't dead, that he was merely unconscious. 

 False kicked up with her heels, barely catching the queen's stomach as she rolled away onto her feet, getting away with a scratch on her nose to show it.

 "Bitch," the queen spat.

 "At least I'm sticking up for Grian," False snarled, bouncing on the balls of her heels, looking over shoulder as Cleo pounded on the silver barrier that had sprung up around the pair. 

 "I loved Grian," the queen hissed. "And then he chose selfishly to Fall rather than do what I wished was best for him."

 False met the queen's sword with a ducked parry of her own. Huh. So Grian was a Fallen angel - a type of angel that was supposed to be worse than demons, were supposed to be so evil they were hunted by both demons and angels. "I don't blame him," she said, inches from the queen's face. "You seem like a controlling piece of shit." 

 The queen pushed her away with a push of her swords, and then the shield vanished - only for an explosion of power to crack through False's armor, her chestplate and boots shattering. Everybody in the clearing, including the angels, was flung back a good twenty feet, leaving a good gap between False and everybody else. 

 False landed on her chest, her skin burning from the shards of diamonds pricking in her skin. She was up in an instant as the queen bore down on her, using her wings to come from above False, her main target the egg that lay by False's feet. 

 False made that split-second decision as the queen reached for the egg, as the other hermits scrambled for her, running with weapons in hand, as others fought off the other angels - but the egg was exposed, wasn't protected, and her weapons had been blasted away from her palms, and lay around eight feet away in the grass, too far for False to run to get them before the queen reached the egg. 

 False dived for the quiver of arrows that had come off Xisuma when he'd been blasted away, and grabbed one, bringing it down on the shell of the egg seconds before the queen touched it. 

 The arrowhead pierced the soft shell of the Enderdragon egg, and unlike normal when it was hit, it exploded into a million pieces, an explosion of light that blew the egg to bits. 

 The queen screamed her rage as False fell to the floor, exhausted, bringing her sword down upon the warrior's head, and False was too tired to stop it, too tired to do anything but stare down the tip of her blade as it plunged towards her head - 

 But even as Stress screamed , and Mumbo yelled out her name, and many other hermits cried out as well - the blade never hit her skull.

 Instead, blood dripped onto False's face as she watched the tip of an angelblade rotate its way through the queen's heart. 

 She got out of the way just in time for the queen to fall face-down on where she would've been, her sword gripped loosely in her hands. 

 And Lily stood behind her mother, the dagger still in her grip, blood in her hair and on her face, a snarl on her face as she said,  "That's what you get for killing my brother ."

 And then Lily bent down and picked up her mother's crown and placed it upon her own head.  

 Around the clearing, angels stopped fighting and kneeled in Lily's direction, the girl looking scared but proud as she clutched the weapon that had killed her mother. 

 " Long live the angel queen ." 

 The voices of the seven remaining angels - one of them had died by the previous angel queen's hands, her neck bent at an odd angle - rang out from the clearing, as False got up to catch her breath, gasping. "Thanks," she managed to get out.

 Lily tilted her head at her. "It wasn't a favor for you," she said. "But merely revenge for everything she's done to me and my brother."

Chapter Text

 The world shook, birds flying from their positions in the trees into the air, cawing and chirping with confusion. 

 Mumbo rushed over to Iskall, helping him up as the world shook, as Xisuma ran over to False, who was speaking to the new angel queen, Grian's sister. The other angels had taken flight through the portal at the order of the new queen, Grian's mother lying face-down on the ground. Nobody moved her - in fact, Mumbo was pretty sure as the hermits rushed towards the remains of the dragon egg that she was stepped on on  purpose .

 The one-eyed man groaned as Mumbo helped him up, bending down so he could help the shorter man walk. "Come on, dude," he grunted. "We need to go."

 In the distance, where Grian's giant tower overlooked the ocean, he saw it crumble. Heard the rumbling of the world as an earthquake shook the land. Saw the mountains collapse inwards on themselves

 Cleo was over by Joe, furiously patching him up - he wasn't dead. That was something good, at least. 

 "We have to go, now!" X said, typing things into his communicator as Mumbo all but dragged Iskall over to the center group, trying not to look at Grian's dead body, trying not to look at his friends' face and break. "The world is crumbling from the outside in - and we will all fall into the void forever if we do not leave, now!"

 False grimaced. "Sorry."

 Lily shook her head at the warrior. "If you had not destroyed the egg, my mother would have taken it, and all would be lost," she said seriously, stepping back as the last of the living angels stepped through the portal, the angel queen the only angel that remained. "And..." she addressed Cleo and Stress. "I'm sorry for not being brave enough to try to rescue you," she told the zombie girl and the ice queen. "There were many of us who did not agree with my mother's ways, but we were too scared to do anything." 

 Cleo shrugged. "It's fine," she said nonchalantly as if an angel hadn't just apologized to her. 

 Xisuma was still typing furiously into an orange blinking block he'd placed on the ground, running some type of code. 

 The world shook, and Mumbo stumbled as the treeline collapsed downwards, the dirt and the sand and the stone dropping into an endless sky, the void - coming closer and closer as the rest of the hermits rushed towards the remains of the dragon egg where Xisuma stood, typing into the command block. 

 "What do we do?" Tango asked, sounding desperate. This was one thing that swords could not fight, that weapons could not defeat. 

 "We move worlds," Xisuma said, his fingers stopping as his eyes scanned the code. "Everything we know here has already disappeared, or will be gone, and as much as I want to see Grian again, I don't think any of us are ready for that." 

 "Speaking of Grian!" Lily called out from her position by the portal as it crumbled by her feet, twenty feet away from the hermits, as the angel used her wings to propel herself into the air. "I'm glad he has friends like you!" The angel queen saluted the group, and flew through the portal as it snapped shut. 

 The crumbling grew closer, huddling around the command block as it blinked its colored lights. 

 "Come on," Xisuma muttered. "Come  on ." 

 Ten feet away. Mumbo could see down into the endless sky, even the bedrock gone, like in the End.

 Five feet. The ground under his feet felt unsteady. 

 "There!" Xisuma said, just as the ground under all the hermit's feet collapsed, Stress swearing as she fell towards the void.

 And the world exploded in a blast of purple light.

 And when it cleared, nobody was wearing their armor anymore, nobody bore their weapons, and the wounds on all of the hermits had healed. 

 No birds cawed in the mess, no ground crumbled under their feet - but there was nothing in the world, no buildings that they'd created with months and months of their time - there wasn't anything except the smell of a new world.

 Iskall looked around wildly, unattaching himself from Mumbo. "Where are we?"

 Xisuma was panting for breath under his helmet as he stared up at the sky, the surroundings. "We're in a new world," he said softly. "A new place. And we will have to begin again, we will have to build again - but we survived that battle despite the odds against us, and though we gave up our world, we lived through it."

 "Most of us did," Mumbo said. 

 Because Grian wasn't there. Grian's black-winged body wasn't there, didn't exist - because he had died and hadn't gone through the portal, he had died too early and his wounds hadn't been healed. 

 Xisuma smiled softly. "Yes. Most of us did. And while we suffered much, and we were wounded and bloody - we fought the angels and lived." 

 "Never again," Joe said tightly, rubbing the spot where he'd been gored, and everybody laughed. 

 "Never again," False echoed, and Mumbo saw her hands reach for a sword that wasn't there, an echo of their past. 

 The eighteen of them stared at the world around them, at the small tiny spawn island on which they lay - a jungle to the south, barely seen, an ocean with a mushroom island in the distance. 

 "Time to start again," Tango said finally. 

 "And here I was, just getting comfortable," Iskall joked. 

 "Yeah, well if you see any portals," TFC warned. "Don't go near them."

 "I doubt the angels are coming back any time soon," Stress said dismissively. "They have a new queen."

 "A queen who has been locked away her entire life," Cleo pointed out. "Who was beaten, was under a monarch whose reign probably reflected terribly on her people - I bet some of the angels believed in her, stood by her - and she comes back from a war that was supposed to be victorious and was killed by her own daughter?"

 Zedaph laughed nervously. "Yeah, hopefully not in our lifetime," he said. "I've had too much war for one...well, forever."

 And then the hermits departed, going their separate ways, always together in spirit, but they would always talk to each other over the communicators, meet up with each other very often - that's how they always were. 

 Until Iskall and Mumbo were the last two on the island as the other hermits swam into the distance, some heading for the mushroom island, others going for the jungle - on and on and on. 

 And Mumbo looked up at the sky and whispered the words he'd wanted to say forever, but truly meant now.

 "Goodbye, Grian."

Chapter Text

 Iskall smiled proudly at the giant stump of the tree he'd been creating, the wood logs and bark blocks - but it was all coming together, it was becoming his new home in the jungle. Near him, visible from his stump, Mumbo's giant concrete base rose in the distance, white and grey blocks blending together. He had some plan that Iskall didn't really understand, but would probably once it was done. 

 And Scar was here too - his giant snail as his starter home, and his mushroom village just starting to pop up. 

 Iskall used his elytra to light up the insides of the stump, slaying a few creepers and zombies as he did so.

  |MumboJumbo|  anyone got some spare sand? I ran out again...

  |Falsesymmetry|  i already gave you all my sand lol

  |Iskall85|  again dude

  |Iskall85|  coming over. 

  |MumboJumbo|  you're a lifesaver!

 Iskall sighed into his communicator and pocketed it, flying down to his base-between-bases and picking up a shulker box full of sand as he went, spamming his rockets as he exited the stump and glided towards the mustached man's base. 

 Mumbo was waiting by his temporary base, looking pretty dejected as he opened and closed his chests, probably checking for more sand. 

 Iskall glided gently down next to his friend. "I have your sand," he said. "But why don't you just go to a desert and mine some?"

 Mumbo sighed and took the shulker box, tucking it into his inventory. "In truth, dude, I wanted to talk to you."

 Iskall raised an eyebrow. "How did you know that I was the one going to respond?"

 Mumbo laughed and ran his fingers through his pitch-black hair. "I didn't. But seeing as I've taken sand from nearly everybody else - " he gestured to the eight giant monolithic pillars that were being constructed. "I assumed you'd have some. You're not making your base out of concrete."

 Iskall sighed. "What did you want to talk about?"

 "I had this dream - "

 "You called me over for a  dream ?" Iskall said. "Bro, I have more important things to do. I'm out."

 "It's about Grian," Mumbo called out as Iskall spread his elytra and prepared to take off. "I had a dream that Grian was talking with his sister."

 Iskall blinked. "Wow, that's a boring dream."

 Mumbo chuckled. "I know, right? That's what made me so suspicious because my dreams are usually filled with adventure and treasure and redstone." He sat down heavily on one of his many chests. "But it was just Grian with his black wings talking to his sister, and then there was a flash of white light and Lily began shouting at Grian - not in a bad way - like orders or something, and Grian went towards a rip that previously three angel warriors had gone through, and then the rift snapped shut - "

 Iskall's communicator beeped. 

  |Xisuma|  Meeting in the Shopping District.

  |Tango|  ???

  |joehillssays|  I swear, if this is another escapade, I will make sure to eliminate you all with intelligence. Last time Xisuma said that, bad things happened. 

  |impulsesv|  X? What's this about?

 Mumbo looked up at Iskall. "Do you think - "

 Iskall spread his wings and took off, the redstoner following closely behind him, though far more clumsily. "Dreams have never come true before, dude."

 "There's a first time for everything," Mumbo said, as if that justified anything. 

 It took them a while to fly to the mushroom island where the Shopping District lay, running into Scar and Stress as they did so. 

 "What do you think this about?" the ex-ice queen said, holding onto her flower crown as it nearly flew off when she spun in the air. 

 Scar shrugged. "Something magical," he said, wiggling his fingers. 

 Iskall nearly facepalmed. "Scar - humans can't do magic."

 "I'm not human!" Scar insisted. "I'm a  wizard ."

 "We're not in Harry Potter," Mumbo told the  wizard . 

 Iskall was about to jab Scar for carrying glass  magic  crystals, when they reached the Shopping District, the rest of the hermits, already there, gathered around the open-air quartz shop, with four ender crystals pointed at the center of the world coordinates, the pink things bobbing up and down in spinning clear cubes.

 False tapped her foot. "Where is Xisuma?" she demanded. "You four are the last ones here - but no X to be found." 

 "Right here."

 It was not the Admin that spoke as Iskall turned, dread filling his stomach as three angels stood at the northern entrance. A barrier filled the air, keeping the hermits in their tight group, no exit in sight. 

 Iskall drew his sword, as he and False shouldered in front of the hermits to stand in front. 

 The center angel held Xisuma in a chokehold, having discarded the poor Admin of his armor, an angelblade held to his throat, a thin line of blood at his neck. 

 "I'm sorry," Xisuma said. "I couldn't stop them."

 "It's fine," False said brusquely. Then to the angels - "Let him go. Go back to your home. We defeated you once, we'll defeat you again."

 "Not if you don't have demon-forged blades," one of the side angels said. "You are at our beck and call now." 

 Beside Iskall, he saw Stress step up, the ex-ice queen looking far braver than he certainly felt with a useless diamond sword held in his hands. 

 "Damien," Stress warned, addressing the angel that held Xisuma. "Let him go."

 The angel -  Damien  - looked at Stress, a maniacal smile on his face. "Ah. Stress, was it? I see you still bear my mark." He gestured at the scar on her face. "Where's your zombie friend? Pity the one on her face didn't show up as wonderfully as yours did." 

 Iskall snarled when he saw Stress flinch and cringe, the determination gone on her face. She was supposed to be  healing  - not talking to the people who'd inflicted the permanent wound on her face. "What do you want in our world? There's no dragon egg, if you're wondering - we got rid of it."

 "Oh, I don't want the dragon egg," Damien said, a malicious smirk on his face, his white wings flapping as he shifted ever-so-slightly on his feet, the rift that led to the Aether behind him rippling. "I want  revenge  for what you've done to my wife."

 "You're Grian's father?" Mumbo asked. 

 Damien laughed. "Oh, no. The  current  angel queen. The weak one. She broke off our  wonderful  relationship just as it was getting interesting. Nice to see that bitch finally grew a spine. Bit annoying, though." He took his sword away from Xisuma's neck and pointed it at False. "You. You changed Lily. I want you dead."

 "No way!"

 The cries of the hermits echoed in the barrier air. 

 Damien shrugged. "It's your death wish," he said. "Either she fights me and dies, or she gets to watch while I kill all of you, and then kill her last." False flinched. "It's your choice,  girl ."

 "Don't do it," Iskall begged the warrior beside him. "Please don't do this. He's probably going to kill us anyway - we don't need you to sacrifice yourself for us, not  again  - I can't let this happen again."

 "I'm sorry, Iskall," False said, tears in her eyes as she adjusted her grip on her sword. "We don't have any demon-forged blades. This is your only chance of survival. I will fight him, and I will either win, and you go free, or I will die, and you all survive!"

 "Don't you dare," Cleo said through clenched teeth, as she grabbed for False's shoulder - but the warrior had already stepped forward, Damien grinning as he did so, waving his hand to construct another barrier between the rest of the hermits and False. Cleo's fists pounded on the impenetrable magical barrier, tears pouring down her face. "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"

 Damien handed Xisuma off to the angel on his right, who took the thrashing Admin with ease, and backed up a few steps as Damien raised his angelblade, eyeing the golden runes on them as they sparkled. 

 "Aren't you going to make this fight fair?" False said through gritted teeth, but as she circled Damien, Iskall saw the fear in her ocean-blue eyes. Saw the truth and the knowledge that she was going to die right here, right now, to save the people she loved. One battle.

 And then it would be over. 

 "No," Damien said. "Why would I ever do that?"

 Iskall watched in horror as the angel rushed his fellow warrior, False putting up her blade by mere muscle memory.

 But the angelblade cut right through the diamond, scratching False's shoulder in a deep gash

 False dropped her ruined blade and cried out, rolling to avoid Damien's next swipe. 

 "This isn't  fair !" Impulse said angrily.

 Iskall swung his diamond blade at the barrier, and it bounced off, nearly taking his only good eye out as he jumped aside. "Come on, False," he said, staring at the girl who clutched her arm that dripped blood like a waterfall. "Beat the bastard."

 False did a neat backflip to avoid Damien's next strike, kicking at his waist and connecting with her foot as she swung away, fists out, weaponless, face grim, and no longer filled with fear, but carrying acceptance in her eyes. 

 She ducked Damien's next swipe, which came so fast that Iskall barely saw it happen, clipping False's goggles as his foot came out and swept under False's feet, making her land breathlessly on her back. 

 "NO!"

 Cleo screamed the word, and it was quickly echoed by the horrified voices of the hermits as Damien grinned and plunged the blade downwards towards her chest, standing over her, trapping her legs like some kind of...fallen angel. Iskall nearly snorted at the metaphor that had come to mind. 

 But she caught it.

 False caught the blade with a snarl on her face, the angelblade cutting deeply into her palms and wetting the floor with her blood, but she kept it inches from her chest, her bare hands against the might of angel.

 And then False screamed as the blade slid through the two fingers in her left hand, automatically letting go of the blade to cradle her maimed hand.  And horror filled Iskall's heart as he saw Damien drive the blade into False's chest. Horror and rage and anger and hate filled the air as someone died before their eyes.

Chapter Text

But it was not False who died. 

 Damien turned to face the rift as an arrow flew through the air to pierce the head of the angel who held Xisuma, shattering the barrier as it whistled through the air, breaking the magic that the angels bore. 

 A figure stepped out of the Aether.

 A figure with black wings and a red sweater and grainy yellow hair and grey jeans and bearing twin swords that shone in the sunlight.

 False rolled away from Damien, sobbing, tears and blood running down her face, on her shirt, everywhere, but she  ran , and Xisuma ran as well towards the hermits who all but rushed for their friends. 

 A barrier sprung to life around the two remaining angels, smokey and grey instead of silver. 

 Iskall felt bad ignoring False, who was crying in Stress's arms, but he had to see, had to know  - Mumbo at his side, the taller hermit's face laced with desperation - 

 And it was Grian who faced Damien and the other angel, throwing his bow to the side as the angel who'd held Xisuma fell dead to the ground. 

 "You're dead," Damien snarled, fear in his voice.

 Iskall placed a hand on the barrier, trying to get through it, but he and Mumbo had to watch the two versus one, as more and more hermits began to notice the battle that wasn't finished yet.

 And it was Grian's voice that filled the now-silent air - silent except for False's muffled sobs as Stress bandaged her hand and wiped off the blood and whispered things to False that was meant only for the warrior hermit to hear. 

 "No," Grian said. " You're  dead."

 And Iskall could only gape as the trickster hermit he'd always known spread his wings black as night and leaped at the two angels.

 Grian tried to ignore the ache in his stomach. He'd finally gained his wings again by sacrificing himself for Stress - but he didn't know how long ago that'd been. It seemed like only yesterday the darkness had comforted him, but when he'd been reborn, Lily had been waiting for him with news that she'd killed their mother. 

 He'd always been a clumsy fighter without his wings - he'd been trained to fight with his wings, with them to balance, with them to use as weapons as their own - 

 Grian kicked out at Sarus, the second angel, his left blade rising up to meet Sarus's, his right rising up to meet Damien's. It was an easy battle - the angels had never been a real match for him when he'd had his wings. And he was an angel again - he had their extra strength and speed. 

 The world flew by as they fought, Damien and Sarus panting with effort, looking for an opening that wasn't there. He'd trained his entire life for battle, for fighting the demons - he'd been the best, before he'd Fallen and his muscle memory had been forgotten. He'd been the Prince of Angels.

 And now he was just Grian, the Fallen Angel. He wasn't a prince anymore, though Lily had wanted him to be. 

 He tried to ignore Iskall and Mumbo's face outside the barrier he'd constructed. He wanted them to be safe - even if they could help him defeat the angels. 

 Grian threw his wings out and hit Sarus in the face, the angel crying out as Grian dropped his own sword to grip Sarus's wrist and turn the sword out of his hands, the crack of bonebreaking filling the air. 

 Damien snarled, and Grian returned his attention to his sister's ex-husband. "You will die," the angel promised. 

 "No," Grian said softly. " You  will."

 And faster than Damien could react, Grian slipped past Damien's guard and plunged the blade into the man's chest, right where he would've stabbed False. 

 Damien didn't die instantly - angels were far harder to kill than humans. The clatter of his sword hitting the ground was the loudest thing heard before Grian put both hands on the blade and twisted it slowly.

 Damien screamed. 

 And then he died. 

 Grian pulled his sword out of the angel's chest as he fell backward - and then he turned to Sarus. 

 "Please," the angel begged. "Please don't kill me - "

 Grian put his sword at Sarus's chin, forcing the angel to meet his gaze. "Did you ever listen to my pleas when you beat me?" he snarled. "Did you ever listen to Stress's cries? Or Cleo's? No. No, I'm not going to show mercy on an abuser."

 And with a single stroke of his sword, Grian cut Sarus's neck open, the angel convulsing, choking on his own blood.

 And then he too died, and Grian was left in the barrier alone. 

 He couldn't meet the hermit's eyes. 

 He couldn't see the fear that surely would be in their eyes as Grian flung his bloody blade to the ground next to its cleaner twin, where he'd discarded it. 

 "Grian," Mumbo said softly. 

 Grian lowered the barrier. 

 And the portal to the Aether behind him snapped shut. 

 "Grian," Mumbo said again. 

 And Grian couldn't look at them still, didn't want to see the horror in their eyes as they looked at the angels he'd murdered with elation. 

 So he spread his wings and flew.

 Grian didn't know where he was going. He didn't recognize this world - Lily had said the old one had been destroyed. His towering futuristic base - gone. His home in Hermitville, the house he'd designed with the help of a certain book in mind - gone. 

 He didn't belong in the Aether. Lily had known that - had sent him here to dispatch of the three angels who'd gone against her strict orders. Had sent him here to stay.

 But he was certain that the hermits didn't want him here, not after what he'd done. What he was - a Fallen Angel. They didn't want his wings, who he'd been born to be. They didn't want him. 

 Grian flew and flew until he spotted a gorge in the middle of a mountain in the jungle, a deep divot in the ground with steep cliffs rising on all sides. 

 Grian huddled in a corner of it, brought his knees to his chest, and cried. He didn't know what to do in this world, hadn't expected to feel the enthusiasm in his chest as he'd killed the people who'd tortured his friends, who'd tortured many people from many worlds in their lifetimes. 

 The sound of fireworks filled the air, and Grian brought his wings farther around him, creating a cacoon of dark feathers. 

 "...Grian?" 

 That was Iskall.

 And then a thump and a yelp as someone crashed into the wall.

 "Oh for goodness sake, Mumbo," he heard Iskall mutter. 

 "I'm fine," came the reply, though with a pained groan attached to it. 

 And then again. Hands brushing against his feathers. "Grian?"

 Grian snapped his wings open in a brush of air, glaring at the two hermits who stood before him, his friends from a life he wished he could return to. "What?" he snapped. 

 "It is you!" Mumbo crowed, poking Iskall's shoulder. "See? There's a first time for everything."

 Iskall rolled his eyes. "Fine. I owe you twelve bamboo or something." He hesitated as he looked at Grian. "You died."

 "I died," Grian said. 

 "And you're alive," Iskall pointed out once more.

 "Yeah, no duh," Grian said. 

 Mumbo sighed and stroked his mustache. "Grian, what Iskall means is that we  love  you're alive, but  how  are you alive?"

 "Fallen Angels have to earn their second set of wings before they die of old age," Grian said, looking away from the curious pair. "And I earned mine by saving Stress. And the magic that gives me my wings back can beat death. So...yes. I came back."

 "When?" Iskall croaked.

 "Two days ago?" Grian said with a shrug. "How long has it been since you've seen me?"

 "Five weeks," Mumbo answered instead of Iskall. "...it's been a long five weeks, dude." 

 And then he rushed forward and hugged Grian, and Grian folded his arms around the much taller man, releasing a breath of relief. "So you don't hate me?" he asked as Iskall hugged both of them in an effort to create a group hug. 

 Mumbo backed away, looking surprised. "Hate you? Why would we hate you?"

 "Because I killed an angel?" Grian asked. "With no remorse."

 Iskall laughed. "We had an entire battle with them on the Jurassic Plains, G. We all would've killed angels if we were given the chance. I know Cleo was very bloodthirsty about the way that she went about killing the one she was battling."

 "That's Cleo for you," Grian said weakly.

 "And all that matters is that you're alive," Mumbo pointed out, gripping Grian's shoulders as if he was going to disappear in front of your eyes. "You're alive. And you saved us."

 "Again," Grian said, cracking a grin. "I saved Cleo and Stress  again ."

 "That was you, wasn't it," Iskall breathed out. "In the video call. When they disappeared in plumes of dark smoke. That was  you ."

 Grian nodded, some part of him still thinking that they were going to give him dirty looks and fly off. 

 "None of us hate you, Grian," Mumbo said, seeing the look in his eyes. "Welcome back."

 "Welcome home," Iskall grinned. 

EPILOGUE:

 Grian grinned as he swooped in to press The Button right under Doc's nose, the half-creeper glaring at him from the chair where he sat. Seriously. If he was going to AFK there and let Grian swoop in to get The Button, he should really question his life's choice.

 In the background, the maker of The Button and Mumbo Jumbo himself, stared at the crisis he'd created, just as Grian had when the civil war had come around in the previous world. 

 "Oh for goodness sake," he heard Iskall say, as he added the green gem to his wristband, where a purple stone always lay.

 "What's going on?" he asked innocently, prompting Iskall to break out in uproarious laughter and almost fall on his face from where he was gliding on his elytra. 

 "No." That's all that Doc said - just  no .

 Grian shrugged, spreading his fallen wings to take off again. "I saw the opportunity and took it," he said smugly.

 "Oh, there are definitely going to be fights," he heard Mumbo mutter to himself as he flew over the mustached man. But there was not an ounce of regret in the man's voice as he watched the chaos unfold. 

 Well. 

 He had a mansion to finish, and even higher gems to collect. He had Hermit Challenges to do - another one of Mumbo's  brilliant  ideas - he had Iskall and all the other hermits to annoy, he had Tag 2: Electric Boogaloo to win, a game that had been created by him and not Mumbo, for once. 

 Hermits waved at him as he passed by their different bases, Stress with her flower-crowned skull - Iskall wasn't at his base, but honey dripped freely from his tree - Scar, with his beautifully terraformed mushroom village, and Mumbo's base, though the redstoner also wasn't home - with his towering monumental iron and concrete structure. 

 Cleo flew by him on her elytra, flying towards the Shopping District and whatever goal she planned to reach. She saluted him as she passed, a gesture of friendship, he'd come to realize. 

 The other hermits hadn't been displeased by the way he'd dispatched the angels, to his surprise, though False had been mad she hadn't been the one to kill Damien. The warrior had been learning to wield a sword with her left hand that only had three fingers, and Grian had to admit she'd been managing quite well when he'd watched her attack stuffed dummies with Damien's reforged sword.

 He pulled out his communicator lazily as it beeped. 

  |Docm77|  XISUMA!

  |MumboJumbo|  hahahahaha

  |Xisuma|  ;)

  |Iskall85|  Doc, dude, when was the last time you slept

  |Docm77|  I've been trying to get this button for fourteen hours. And now it's purple again. 

  |Xisuma|  should've pressed it when you had the chance ;)

  |Falsesymmetry|  niceeeee X what belt did you get

  |Xisuma|  green :D

  |Iskall85|  green belts unite!

  |Grian|  I have a green belt as well! Trying to collect all of them!

  |GoodtimeswithScar|  I want to get higher than my green belt lol but doc scares me sometimes and I don't know if I want to go near him

  |Docm77|  I'll kill the next person who goes near The Button.

  |Stressmonster101|  !!!

  |ZombieCleo|  See this is why I don't partake in these kinds of things. I'd rather have an adventure.

  |Tango|  No.

  |joehillssays|  No.

  |TinfoilChef|  No.

  |ZombieCleo|  why nottttttttt

  |Xisuma|  i'm pretty sure you hated your last adventure. Look what happened last time...

  |ZombieCleo|  ehhh consequences of being an adventurer

  |Stressmonster101|  no thank you <3

  |Grian|  pretty sure I don't have another set of wings to save me this time Cleo haha

  |MumboJumbo|  ...

  |Grian|  Too soon?

  |Iskall85|  LOL

  |MumboJumbo|  I mourned you dude

  |Grian|  Yeah well I mourn your loss of importance. You're the creator of The Button and you have a pathetic purple belt?

  |MumboJumbo|  I regret making the rule saying you have to ridicule purple belts. 

  |Zedaph|  go get a better belt dude

  |Grian|  haha

  Welcome home indeed.