Work Text:
In the middle of the night, smoke still rises from the sand. Grian tries not to inhale it, but that’s a pretty hard task. His chest burns with the pain of a life lost, and he understands now what he put Scar through.
Technically, he’s free. He lost the life that he dedicated to Scar.
He could leave before the morning comes.
Grian’s a master of lying to himself. He convinces himself the most hair-brained of schemes will work out, and he accepts his doom when the battle hasn’t even started. But this is something he doesn’t think he can lie to himself about. It’s so unbelievable that Grian would just up and leave Scar.
He turns towards the man himself, who stands just a couple paces back. Scar stares up at the sky, where the smoke blends into the dark clouds of midnight.
“Scar?”
Scar’s attention snaps towards him. “Yeah?”
“I… I had a dream last night.”
“A dream?”
“It was… it was about a beautiful land. One where places like that…” Grian points to the wreckage of their old home on the peak of the hill. Now all that’s left is some battered sandstone and ashes. “... Were scattered all over the place. Nobody fought, at least not seriously. When we died, it wasn’t permanent. We weren’t stuck with just three chances.”
He expects Scar to interject with how ridiculous this idea is. A world where the things they cherished were permanent. It’s a pretty thought, but ultimately it’s a dream.
But Scar nods along, and Grian keeps going.
“I think… I was flying around in the dream. Taking a look at what everybody had built. I saw people. Some of them are here, but some of them were completely new to me. And I saw what we made - you know, I had a castle in my dream.”
“I once dreamed that I was the mayor of this lovely little area,” Scar muses. “It was filled with all of these shops, and people bustling around… and there was a war, but it was very lighthearted, you know? Just some rapscallions trying to make the place all gray. You were actually a star in my dream, Grian! You were the one trying to replace all the grass with mycelium!”
“Wait, what’s mycelium?”
Scar shrugs. “I don’t know! But you liked it, I remember. Liked it enough that you roped a couple of buddies in and formed a resistance.”
A world where Grian had the time to start meaningless battles over meaningless things… that’s a fun little fantasy. If there’s one thing Grian likes in life, it’s the rush of energy he gets when he knows things are hopeless but he’s just going in to have fun. When he knows he might die, or everything could go wrong, but he can’t bring himself to care anymore.
It would be nice to experience that thrill without the fear of life or death.
If only that were possible.
“Scar, who do you think is going to make it out of here alive?”
Scar thinks for a second, but without hesitation he says, “Not me. I mean, I would’ve died like ten more times than I did if you weren’t here to protect me. And now…”
“You can’t get rid of me, I hope you know that.”
That brings a smile to Scar’s face. Grian feels one growing on his own.
“Let’s try our best to just… make it through. And let’s find somewhere to sleep for the night.”
“I hope I dream about that place again,” Scar says. “My dream was rudely interrupted in the middle of the Big Base Swap.”
Grian doesn’t question that, the name oddly familiar to him as well. He takes Scar’s hand and drags him off to find shelter.
Hopefully Grian would have those dreams as well.
He soars through the open air, the front of his palace in sight. Grian is back where he belongs. In the land of color and freedom. Where he’s not confined to the ground amongst the muck and blood of war.
Grian lands with light feet upon stone, raising his head to take his castle in.
Tonight, he is Aware. Other nights, he is not so aware. He roams this land as if it’s his own. As if he was the one to put in all of this hard work.
But the flash of a bomb going off and the subsequent boom are fresh in his mind. Grian can’t easily forget what happened so recently. It’s still replaying in his mind, a constant loop that he tries to press back with thoughts of this impressive landscape. He heard the rush of wind in his ears and tried to use that to suppress the bombs’ shock. Now that he’s on land, he doesn’t have that distraction.
Grian is dreaming, and he knows this.
He is not going to let go so easily. He’s going to make his mark upon this dreamscape. The people of his subconscious will know that Grian was here. He had something to say.
Just as he would in his world, Grian took an axe to some planks and crafted them into signs. Right in the entrance to the castle he places them, and begins to carve out his message.
“Welcome to the land of hope and possibilities. Grian was here, don’t you forget it.”
Underneath those words, he carved two hearts. He found some dye, yellow and red. He smudged the yellow around the first heart and the red around the second.
Satisfied, Grian steps back. He crouches down, whips out a rocket, and takes off.
For the rest of his dream, Grian flies. He lets the wind whip him this way and that, battering him and making him giggle. He hopes desperately that this euphoria will never leave him, despite knowing that this is not his land.
As the sun sets in his dream, he knows his own sun is going to rise. His time here is limited, and all Grian can home for is that he’ll return one day. If not to this land, then to another just as magical.
That is Grian’s one wish as he wakes up.
Grian can say with confidence that this land was not meant for the likes of him.
He walks it with a sword in hand and little else. He has lost another life, and with it he’s lost almost everything. He would be worried, afraid to be left in this vulnerable state. But he’s surrounded by people in worse conditions. Those with lasting injuries, festering wounds, and even less to their name than him.
Grian has what he needs to take control of this land. Would it be foolish of him to say he could win it all? It’s a possibility. But there are so many others who could take that title from him, so Grian does not raise the flag of victory yet.
People fall around him. Grian survives it all, bringing an end to many people himself. Life passes him by in a whirlwind, and Grian’s only job is to keep up. He goes along with the flow and stabs, shoots, and kills when he needs to. He survives until it is him, Scar, and Bdubs left on this server.
He saw Bdubs in his dream, briefly. He flew over him and waved hello. Bdubs is an excellent builder. It’s a shame nothing lasts in this land.
Scar says some things he surely cannot mean. He tells Grian that he’s done, that it’s over, he’s betraying him. After all that Grian has done for Scar, Scar is rejecting their final dance together.
Scar doesn’t hold onto that stance for long.
Scar was always going to fall back into Grian’s orbit. Just as Grian was going to fall back into his. Grian would’ve been lying to himself if he said he would leave Scar when he turned yellow. Now Scar lies to himself, but that’s okay, because Grian sets him back on track.
So they stand together, friends again, about to have it all ripped away from each other.
It’s Scar or him. Either way, the world will never be the same. It is not prepared to deal with either of them, forces of nature with the power to warp the world around them to their will.
The voices call for death. Grian has the sinking feeling that they’ll be getting more than they called for today.
There’s a cliff right beside the clearing where their battle is to commence.
Grian is going to do this land a favor. He’ll stop this madness. A world this small was not built to handle them.
He hopes he’ll see Scar in the next life.
Scar goes with a smile on his face.
Grian goes with a smile as well, for he’s never been afraid of heights.
Grian wakes to the roar of waves in his ears. He pries open his eyes to find the sun high in the sky, beating down on him. The surface where he lays rocks, aggravating the wounds Grian collected in his battle. He groans, sitting up even as his bones and muscles scream. He wishes to know where he is.
He looks out over a vast ocean, not a sign of land in sight.
The waters are rhythmic, calm in their repetitive motions. The vessel he sits on is like a pebble in the water, casting ripples out across the ocean that never go away.
It’s a gigantic vessel. Looks as if it belongs on land, too heavy to float. But the flooring is made of driftwood, keeping the ship afloat. The structure itself is made of glass, so Grian can see inside. Chests are stacked up on the walls, overflowing with riches and wonders he had never even seen before.
At the bow of the ship stands a man with sandy brown hair and brightly colored wings. He holds a single oar, casting that into the water as if that could move this entire thing.
Grian hauls himself up, using nearby rails to steady himself. His wounds are healing rapidly, but he’s still shaken up. He stumbles through the barge, emerging into the front of the boat with a huff.
“Who are you?” he asks the man with the oar.
The man turns, and faces him with familiar eyes. A familiar jaw, familiar cheeks, a familiar face. All that’s different are the red feathers sprouting out just in front of his ears.
The Other Grian’s brows furrow, as he takes Grian in, up and down.
“You’re quite beat up.”
“Astute observation.”
“Are you the one who’s been killing everybody?” The Other Grian asks. “With all the TNT traps? The bombs in the desert?”
Grian doesn’t answer. The man continues.
“I’ve taken to calling you Grain. Because people are always mistaking me for this Grain fellow. And you look like me, but you obviously aren’t me. I would never kill my friends.”
“It was my only choice.”
“Was luring the creeper over to Scar your only choice?”
Yet again, Grian doesn’t answer.
The Other Grian turns back to the seas ahead, continuing to row. “I got your little message. You left your mark on my land, I hope you’re happy. I’m setting off for a new one, and you aren’t coming with me. Leave, find your own world. I don’t want mine infected with your sickness.”
There is no room for argument. Grian is a smart, calculating man. But he cannot beat himself. He is his own worst enemy.
So he slinks back into the ship. Lets The Other Grian be, as he rows himself closer to a new life. Where is Grian meant to go, though? Is he to travel upon these seas forever? Is this his life now; he’s forever stuck upon this barge in the middle of the ocean? Not a person in sight aside from the other him?
Eventually, land comes into sight. The Other Grian drops all of his things into chests. He sheds his diamond boots and throws down enchanted tools. A mist takes over him, and like that, the wings are gone. So are the feathers. The Other Grian looks like any normal person, just like Grian.
The Other Grian gives him one last look and a salute before jumping into the water. He swims off to land, leaving Grian alone.
The barge is now his, apparently.
For the next few weeks, the barge drifts along the island. Grian tries to swim to land a couple times, but each attempt ends with drowneds beating him back onto the barge. The island is built into something magnificent, something beautiful. Occasionally, he’ll see The Other Grian flying around. He sees The Other Scar, and The Other Pearl, and The Other Impulse. There’s another man with them, one with a mustache, who’s dressed in a fancy suit.
The only person to ever take notice of him is that man. He lives near the odd obelisk made of beds and boats. The man with the mustache catches sight of him, and crafts a small boat to come over. Grian kneels at the side of the barge as the man rows up to him.
“Whatever are you doing out here, Grian?”
“Oh, just sailing. You know.”
The man furrows his brows. His mustache moves as well as he does that. “Where are your wings? Come onto land, Grian. How did you get out here?”
“Oh, you know, just a little accident.”
“Climb in the boat with me.”
Grian does. He waves goodbye to the odd ship he has called his home. The mustachioed man starts to row the boat, and Grian faces forward. He looks towards the land he is finally going to walk.
But the waves are not in their favor today.
As a storm begins to brew, it becomes clear that Grian is not going to make it to shore. Neither is the man in the boat.
The closest they come is on a huge wave, and they quickly get pulled back out. But in that brief moment, Grian looks to shore, and sees an odd sight.
A man who looks exactly like the one in Grian’s boat.
They’re carbon copies of each other. They make eye contact, obviously confused. The man on shore doesn’t seem to notice Grian. But Grian notices something about the man in the boat with him.
There are four hearts stitched into the back of his fine suit. One dark green, one light, one yellow and one red.
Grian looks down at the hems of his sweater sleeves. One one is a patch of a yellow heart, and a red one on the other.
The storm carries them back out to sea, and sends them towards a new land. One with dangerous, rocky terrain. And a lot more people are already on land.
When he and this man step onto the shore of a riverbank, the man turns to him and says, “Oh, I never caught your name.”
Didn’t he mention Grian’s name earlier?
“I’m Grian. And you are?”
“Mumbo. Mumbo Jumbo. Say, do you know where we are? What this place is?”
“My friend, this… this is a land where your lives mean something.”
“Lives?”
“All four of them.”
Mumbo stares at him, expression blank. “What?”
“Climb up the shore with me, and I’ll explain.”
Nobody here remembers. Nobody except for Grian.
And well, Scar might have a bit of an inkling. Might. The jury’s still out on that one.
Aside from him, nobody else remembers. Most people here were in the last season as well - Martyn, Jimmy, Impulse, those are all familiar names. Grian ends up settling down with those three, along with the new fellow, Mumbo. Together they make terrible jokes and call themselves the Southlands for their position on the map.
When they’re making their home, Grian has the instinct to make it look pretty. Just like those houses he saw on that other world, and the one he tried to make in the desert with Scar. If that desert proved anything though, it’s that nothing is permanent. There’s no point in making a pretty looking base. It’s better to build something practical that will keep them safe from wandering boogeymen.
Which results in a build that isn’t… terrible. Grian can live here. He likes the people here, he likes what they’ve carved out for themselves. They have everything they could ever need, except for the enchanter.
Scar stole the enchanter. Of course he did.
It’s only a matter of time before it all heads south. Right into their base, the Southlands. After his first day back on land, Grian lays upon his bed and rests. He thinks back to his days adrift at sea. Then to the dreams he would have back in the desert.
Would he have them again? Or is he banned from that place now that The Other Grian knows that he’s been invading?
Getting to sleep takes an effort. Grian keeps tossing and turning in his hastily made bed. Nothing feels right. He doesn’t feel sane.
Everybody is so happy. But Grian already saw the harm that could come to people here. He already lost Scar’s life. He’s back on yellow.
Fitting that in both places, Scar’s life was the first to be lost. Grian led to its demise both times.
Sleep has to grace him at some point. He can’t stay up all night.
Grian stands on the edge of nothingness, inside a rocky ledge in a bottomless pit. He clings to the walls and watches as Scar falls, falls, falls - right into the void beneath them.
But Scar has wings. A mechanical pair strapped to his back. He should be fine, right? He can fly right back out.
“Grian, I don’t have rockets!”
From his previous dreams Grian knows the importance of rockets. He has some right in his hand. He jumps into the void, ready to hand them to Scar. But the void is so much more expansive than the open ocean. If he thought that was bad, well. This makes that look like a kiddie pool.
“Scar! Here, I’ve got you!”
He tries his best to throw the rockets down to Scar. But his body is overtaken by a terrible pressure. One that comes from his core and travels out, making him want to explode. The rockets go tumbling down, and Scar can’t catch them. Now Grian has no way out.
His dreams are supposed to be a better world. It isn’t supposed to end like this.
Grian falls… but he wakes up, in a bed, with no pain coursing through him. Not like his own world, where they’re left with countless scars.
He gets up, and there’s nothing different about him. No hearts taken off his sleeves. No hearts to begin with, they’re unnecessary.
He walks over to his villagers, grabs a purple box, and finds everything he needs in there. Another pair of wings, rockets, food, tools. Everything he could ever need.
Even in death, this world protects him.
Grian doesn’t want to wake up.
Why must he wake up?
Grian’s lives go exactly the way he thought they would.
The Southlands don’t stick together for long. Joel hits Grian off the platform Mumbo made. This time, when Grian falls, he feels everything when he respawns. The pain courses through him with no end in sight. Grian convulses, as bloodlust starts to mix with the pain.
He looks at the people who used to be his friends, who he laughed with and loved. He looks at them, and he wants to kill.
They kick him out of the Southlands.
Grian expected that, but he can’t say he’s not sad to see it go. Joel pulls him away - Grian hates to work with the man that killed him, but Joel is the only other person he can partner with. Although he wants blood, Grian isn’t going to go for Joel. He’s not stupid. There’s a fire in his mind, threatening to catch on those around him, but Joel’s fire burns just as bright.
It’s Scar that puts the fire out.
Of course it was some trickery that got that life of Scar’s. Ultimately it was Scar’s decision to utter the command. Still, it’s Scar’s life that cures Grian of the bloodlust. Sets him back to normal.
Later on, when they’re both on red, he works with Scar. Just like Joel, it’s not like he has a choice.
Well, maybe he does. There are other reds on the server now. More lives are being lost by the day. This entire time, Grian has been… not necessarily avoiding Scar. It’s more like he hasn’t wanted to face the unhappy memories. Grian wishes he was more like all the people here. He wishes he didn’t remember what he had taken to calling “Third life.”
Through his brief alliances with Scar, he learns that Scar does not remember Third Life.
What Scar does remember are his dreams.
Just like Grian, he’s been seeing the world with a hole through the bottom of it and a weird looking pole.
“Is the moon big in your dreams too?”
“Yes! It is!”
Grian asks around and Impulse has these dreams. As does BDubs, Ren, and Pearl. Joel has had a couple dreams, but they aren’t anything like Grian’s. They take place in a much different land. Although, he says that Scott shows up a couple times. As does Lizzie. In that world, Joel and Lizzie are married. They rule together. Together! Alliances, ones that won’t shatter with the dawn of a new day!
Grian used to know what that’s like.
He looks over at Scar. Used to.
Their lives progress. People kill and people are killed. Grian tries to count up the casualties around them but at some point, he can’t keep track. He remembers that he was the one to cause the first death. Jimmy died at his hands. Jimmy, his ally in this life and in Third Life. Quick to follow was Mumbo.
He still sees Mumbo in his dreams.
Mumbo, all happy and healthy. A name that was white; free of the system they live and die for.
Mumbo was his only comfort as he was brought into this world, and Grian killed him.
All Grian can do now is stay by Joel’s side. He’ll take what companionship he can get.
For some reason, he never considered that red lives can get lonely. It would explain why Scar stuck with him so long last time. Until the very end.
Grian isn’t one of the last ones standing. Neither is Joel.
As he bleeds out into the river, Grian looks into the beating sun and he smiles. He’s going to forget all of this, isn’t he? May the next life be kinder to him.
He feels bad for whichever poor soul survives this bloodbath.
Maybe he did Jimmy and Mumbo a mercy.
Grian’s falling.
Falling through the void just as he did in his dream. Where he couldn’t save Scar, but he woke up in a bed safe and sound. This time, the falling does not cease. There is no burst of pain. Just the endless abyss.
There are people below him.
They’re far, so far that he sometimes forgets they exist. Eventually though, he realizes they’re growing closer.
It’s just like the sea. So isolating until there’s land in sight.
If he’s falling, then there should be ways to fall faster. Grian angles himself towards the center of gravity, feet first. He straightens up and holds his arms tight around this chest.
An eternity passes. Last Life, as he has started to call it, could’ve played out again three more times before he finally reaches them.
But across the void, he hears them.
Scar first. Always so loud, he hears Scar first.
Scar’s voice overlaps itself, as if he’s speaking fast or… could The Other Scar be here?
He hears Pearl, and Impulse, and Mumbo. Their voices overlap as well, aside from Pearl’s. She’s only there once. But Grian calls out to them. He looks down, and there they are.
Five people in space suits. Their faces are hard to see, but he can hear them clear as day. Then there’s His Impulse, His Scar, and His Mumbo.
From some of them, he gets dirty looks. From Scar, there’s something else in those mischievous eyes of his. He’s smiling, great and big.
One of the men in space suits looks up. Now it’s clear that it’s Impulse. “Oh, another one comes to join us!”
And then The Other Him looks up. Grian locks eyes with the man who shares his face. Who curses his name, who hates him.
“You’ve been giving me quite bad dreams,” The Other Him says.
“I’ve been living them.”
Grian asks around. He learns that Mumbo and Impulse were the first to find the versions of them in spacesuits. Then came Scar a bit later. Grian is the latest to arrive but Pearl will be on the way.
“Pearl has a good shot of winning.”
“I do?”
Grian doesn’t want to be the one to tell The Other Pearl how great the burden can be. Nobody else can… except for The Other Him. Because he knows, right? He’s had the dreams?
He too goes completely silent. Pearl carries on with the pride that her dream self could’ve won Last Life.
Grian’s Pearl finally comes to join them. She confirms that she did not win. This brings up the question though, will they forget? Because Grian still remembers. As does Pearl, Impulse, Mumbo, and Scar. They all have perfect picture memories of what happened in Last Life.
They keep falling.
Falling, falling, until a world crosses their vision.
The world is too far to their sides to fall into. They’ll go straight past it, continuing on in the vast expanse.
But the astronauts have rockets.
Barely enough for each of them to make it over there. They can’t spare a single rocket.
“I’m sorry,” The Other Impulse says. “If we had more to our names, we would try to find a way to take you along.”
“We’ve thought about it. There’s no way,” The Other Mumbo says.
The Other Pearl and The Other Scar nod along. The Other Grian is completely silent on the matter.
They say their goodbyes. Some of them grew quite close with their Others - the two Scars got along quite well, what a surprise. To Grian’s surprise, The Other Him does say something to him before he takes off.
“Do me a favor, and don’t try to start another war.”
Before they can take off, The Other Pearl mutters, “Hypocrite.”
They’re gone in a flash of bright light, and leave behind nothing but smoke. They fall into the other planet, while the five of them that were left continue to fall.
“Wait, guys.”
It was Mumbo who spoke. Grian turns to him, as does everybody else. Mumbo is holding something out - a spare rocket.
“They left this behind.”
Before anybody else can, Grian makes the decision.
“You should ride it over to the planet, Mumbo.”
“What? Why me, why not you?”
“I don’t belong there. But you… you showed me kindness, when I had nothing.”
Grian looks over to the other three, expecting some kind of disagreement. They all look at him. Scar’s gaze flickers back to the rockets, as does Pearl’s occasionally. But nobody contests it.
“Go, Mumbo. Enjoy your life.”
It’s the least that Grian can do.
Without Mumbo, they fall. They keep falling, and falling until there is another world in sight.
The other three go wild. They’re so happy to finally be out of this void. The world is directly underneath them, they’re going to land on it.
They talk of how they’ll be free. How it could be a land just like the ones of their dreams. They’re so happy, for they truly believe that this is their salvation. They don’t stop to consider that this world may be as bad as the last.
But as they rush towards the surface, Grian feels something on his finger. The ring finger of his left hand.
He lifts it, to see a little green string tied around it. The end fades off into nothingness. Grian tries to pull on the string, but it does not budge.
The others lift theirs to see the exact same things. All in green. All leading to nothingness.
Scar, Impulse, and Pearl all chat about what this could mean. A lump of dread makes its way to the bottom of Grian’s stomach.
It’s that particular shade of green. The one that was briefly sewn onto Grian’s clothing.
The surface gets closer and closer. They’re just above the clouds.
Grian closes his eyes. He enjoys this freedom for one more moment. Once they hit the ground, it’ll all be gone.
When Grian opens his eyes, the last thing he remembers is sailing with Mumbo into the next world.
Scar’s betrayal and his subsequent death are fresh on his mind.
And there’s a little green string tied around his finger.
Scar has the same connection.