Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I like this player.
It played well.
It did not give up.

“Well, have you seen Scott at all?” 
Grian asks as he circles one of the tall, orange pillars of Pearl’s terrain. His hand follows the formation of the rocks she carefully crafted, and his eyes float around her world until they land on her. There’s a careful hint of purple, deep within the darkness of his eyes, and Pearl watches it grow dimmer and dimmer as he waits for her response.
“Uh, no, actually,” Pearl frowns, adjusting her hold on a blue shulker box in her arms. “I don’t know if you know, but we haven’t been able to contact Empires at all.” She explains. Pearl wasn’t interested in the topic of Double Life right now, considering its ending. She never assumed they would get that far. 
Or that she would win.
Or that Scott would do that.
Pearl didn’t like that bit very much, regardless of how much she pranced around and took damage to scare Scott into eating or being just as reckless back.
But– that?  
That’s why she didn’t question the lack of communication.

Grian straightens up and blinks.
“..Seriously?” He questions, the concern already coating his voice. Pearl stares before she sets down the shulker box and wipes her hands on her pants. Her fancy suit wasn’t exactly the best outfit for building. 
“Yeah, but I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” She hums, approaching Grian to grab the sleeve of his sweater. She pulls him towards the entrance of her base. “It’s probably just them being, you know, stingy,” Pearl says with a small laugh. It seems to relax Grian’s shoulders a bit, but there’s still worry written across his face. 
“Maybe, but..it’s unusual, don’t you think?”
They stop.
“What is?”
He grabs her hand, rubbing over her knuckles and staring at the small scar set between her index finger and her middle finger. Pearl claimed her knuckles split in the midst of her battle with Bdubs and Impulse, which ultimately led to Bdubs and Impulse begging for forgiveness once they returned home. She laughed it off, saying it was just another one for the collection.
“That Scott killed himself for you, yet hasn’t spoken to you. That’s not like him,” Grian says quietly.

Then, Pearl is brought back to that moment. With tears in her eyes and a scream in her throat, with smoke and ashes burning too bright as Scott went down, sending jarring pain through her body before she too fell to the ground, still. She really hated being there. 
Pearl looks down at their hands, the sun and moon, drawn to each other, with only the stars missing. 
But she smiles at Grian, and decides to grip his hand instead. 
“I just think you’re worried about Joel,” She says teasingly, “It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it.”
Grian stares at her with an annoyed smile, a playful edge to his voice. “As if I’d care for that lunatic,”
“He’s like your brother!”
Grian scoffs and arches an accusatory brow.
“My brother?” 
“I said you didn’t have to admit it,” Pearl beams. Grian studies her, before he rolls his eyes in defeat. 
“You’re right, I won’t admit it.” He hums as he drops his grasp on Pearl's hand. She wants to take it again. “But, I still think it’s weird that we haven’t heard anything from them..” He says.

Pearl ignores it, grabbing his arm once again and pushing him through the entrance of her base. Grian begins to bring up the topic again, until he falls into a motion of scanning the room in silent awe of the details and vibrant colors, and how everything blends so incredibly smoothly. He stops in the center of the room, eyes glued to cyan nether sprouts hiding behind crimson trap doors. There’s a realization in his eyes.
He looks at her, voice steady.
“You’re teamed with him for MCC, aren’t you?”

As scheduled, MCC comes around on a bright Saturday. 
The four Hermits participating this month crowd around the Seasons spawn, adorning their team color outfits and a small patch attached to their sleeves with the letters MCC embroidered into them.
Grian’s here, ready to send Pearl and Scar off, giving them both a quick hug and wishing them good luck. He holds Pearl's hug a bit longer, and mumbles into her shoulder.
“Don’t be scared of him, alright?”
Pearl laughs a bit. Because she would never be scared of Scott, no. But maybe she was just scared of how he would react to her. She pulls away, holding onto his shoulders and smiling. 
“Scott’s the least scary person I know, after you maybe,”
“ Hey,” Grian warns, but Pearl just laughs again, and from the side Scar throws his arm around Grian and questions why he isn’t coming this month. He pulls away from both of them, pretending to be annoyed by their affection.
“Okay, that’s definitely enough! Good luck, okay?” He huffs, gently shoving Scar’s shoulder and nodding at Pearl. 

Before Scar or Pearl can say anything, Xisuma lands with a heavy thud. His elytra shifts back into nothingness, as he flips open a screen attached to left arm. He types something in, rather quickly, before looking at the small group of Hermits.
“Ready to go?”
They agree, and Xisuma turns to the dead center of spawn, and stomps his foot. The stone beneath them rumbles, before a small crack appears in the flooring and tears open. It’s not huge, just big enough to fit one traveler at a time. The four line up, with Cub in the front and Pearl at the end. 
Cub begins to slip down into the opening, looking up at Xisuma, speaking.
“Remember to–”
“Close it this time. I know,” Xisuma finishes for him, and Cub only squints at him before falling into the Void.
False slips her feet in, giving Xisuma a quick thumbs up.
“Good luck,” He says.
“Thanks. Don’t forget to close the portal this time,” She hums, falling in after Cub. Xisuma stands still for a moment, huffing something to himself about how it was one time.. 
Scar approaches next, his usual smile on his face as Xisuma also wishes him good luck. 
“Well, thank you, kind sir,” Scar says, following False into the darkness. Xisuma practically sighs in relief when Scar doesn’t remind him of the portal.

Pearl walks up to the edge and something is twisting in her stomach, climbing up her throat. She feels sick. She didn’t feel sick before–but the reality that she was seeing Scott was setting in rather quickly. She assumed he cared–he cared in the end after all, even if it was in a sick way. But there was nothing, this whole time. No messages, no calls, nothing. 
Maybe he didn’t care–maybe his attitude towards her the whole time was as real as it felt, not a means to survival, or maybe she was dead wrong. The fact that she didn’t know was chewing away at her. 
Oh, she felt dangerously sick.

“Pearl,” 
She snaps her head to Xisuma, who is looking at her, fairly concerned. Pearl can see his eyes through the dim visor, past the rows of teeth from the skull on his head. His eyes look over her shoulder, probably to look at Grian, before coming back to her. They’re full of worry.
“..If you aren’t feeling well, I can contact Noxcrew and–”
“No! No, it’s okay!” Pearl holds her hands out, laughing a bit as she settles down to enter the Void. “I’m just–nervous,” She grips the edge of the stone until her knuckles turn paper white. “Yeah. Nervous.”

Xisuma crouches down next to her. It’s at this moment she really understands why he’s the main one in charge.
“You don’t have to go. I can and will tell Noxcrew that something came up. They can always find a substitute.” He says. He’s giving her the option to stay, and Gods, does she want to take it. 
But she can’t, because regardless of how sick she feels and how that moment replays in her head every night, she has to see Scott. Pearl can’t miss this–she can’t leave him waiting. 
“I’m–” She takes a slow breath, allowing her shoulders to slack, “I’m okay, I swear.” 
Xisuma takes a few seconds to study her, to just make sure, before he nods and stands up. 
“Good luck,”
“Won’t even need it! False is gonna win it for us!” She falls into the Void without a second thought.

And, Gods, server hopping sure is a mess of its own. Pearl is surrounded by nothing but darkness and cold, which wraps around her and tries to preserve her–to keep her there, alone, but she doesn’t let it. She learned long ago to not give into the Void. She falls, for what feels like forever, her mind stuck on one thing and one thing only.

Scott. 

Pearl’s  eyes snap open in an instant, drowning in the colors of the familiar server around her as she finally breathes, understanding she actually made it to MCC. People run around, accidentally brushing past her and throwing a quick apology before disappearing around a corner. The smell of burgers and hot dogs lightens her moods, looking at the stand and watching a few younger players learn over the counter, taking some for themselves. She hears the loud ringing of a bell in the distance, clanging over and over and over until she smiles to herself because of it. Pearl missed it–from the sandstone under her feet to the blinding fireworks that would eventually light up the sky. 

“Hey,” 
Pearl turns, coming to face with her teammate, False, who’s adjusting her gloves as she glances around. She towers over Pearl, easily, so Pearl decides to let her continue the search for what she assumes of the rest of their team. 
“Hi,” Pearl says.
After a minute, False essentially gives up on the search, opting to look at Pearl.
“Are you feeling alright? You look kinda shaky,”
“I do? ” Pearl asks, a bit surprised. False nods, placing her hands on her hips. “I'm fine! Everyone keeps worrying,” Pearl says, waving her hands and trying to lighten the mood.
“I just wanted to make sure. If something was bothering you, we wouldn’t want to force you to compete,” She looks over Pearl's head again, raising her brows a bit before she starts walking. Pearl follows her without question. 
“Oh, thanks,”
False hums as an acknowledgment, taking a few steps up the long case of stairs leading up to the Decision Dome. It’s not open yet, but there’s a few teams huddled around, having their pictures taken or going over their confusingly tactful strategies. Some are doing last minute adjustments to their outfits, fixing hair or makeup. 

Scott would always check Pearl's outfit for perfection. Claiming he couldn’t let her go out without looking her best. She had laughed, but he had meant it.

“Do you see them anywhere?” False says as she reaches a higher step, allowing her a better view of the contestants rushing around. Pearl takes a look, eyes falling to familiar faces all around, but not familiar enough to be Scott or Jojo. 
“Uh..nope, I don’t,” She mumbles. In all honesty, it was almost impossible to find anyone during MCC without proper communication. “Maybe text them?” She suggests to False, who blinks before pulling out her communicator with raised brows. 
“No idea why I didn’t think of that,” She says as she begins to tap away at the screen, and Pearl turns to the crowd to continue looking. She spots bright blue almost everywhere, and everytime her heart skips a nervous beat.

“Jojo says she just got here. Scott’s been..around for a while,” False says. Pearl hikes up the extra step to lean closer to her and read the screen which False pushes it closer. She’s looking at the crowd again.
After a quick minute, the communicator buzzes.

<Smajor1995> sorrrrry
<Smajor1995> technical difficulties in noxcrew
<Smajor1995> found jojo, where are you guys?

Pearl swallows as False types into the comm.

<falsesymmetry> the entrance to the dome
<falsesymmetry> the stairs specifically 

They lift their heads at the same time to return to the sea of contestants, eyeing for any color that looks like cyan, or better, Scott’s hair. 
Behind them, the large ticking timer reaches one minute, and people begin to race to the stairs in buzzing excitement. Paths clear before becoming crowded again, as people push through, and Pearl finds herself slowly stepping down the stairs, on her toes and moving around people, looking for him.
And then a space clears, and Scott and Jojo come into view, with Scott looking off to the side as he bites one of his nails, and Jojo staring straight ahead. Jojo sees Pearl first, an excited smile appearing across her face as she turns and quickly taps Scott’s chest, raising her finger to point at Pearl.

Scott looks, and they both still. 
Pearl feels like she’s floating. Her heart is pounding against her chest, and she’s sure her breathing is ragged and worrying, and maybe her face says it all because Scott only looks at her before he pulls himself away from Jojo's side and runs.
Scott pushes past a Lime Llama, who turns to watch him rush up the stairs with a smile. He stumbles on the third step, holding his hands out to quickly regain his balance but he never keeps his eyes off Pearl. He stares with a look that screams at her,

I’m going to reach you, and nothings going to stop me.

And Pearl only stares at him.

I’m counting on it.

So, she rushes down the stairs at the same pace. She pushes, and apologizes, and almost trips over her laces until Scott is only one step away from her. Pearl can barely breathe, and her eyes burn more than they ever have before when she practically throws herself onto Scott, who catches her like he was prepared the whole time. His grip is so tight on her and he spins her, almost tearing into her cyan shirt while she shoves her face into his shoulder. Scott touches her head, her hair—she can feel his heart against her chest and how he trembles while holding her.

“I could’ve dropped you,” Scott laughs, trying to sound annoyed. His eyes are shining, and the stars that dance around his head glimmer with a soft white glow, almost like the moon.
“I would’ve killed you,”   Pearl says into his shoulder, and for a moment she regrets it. The wound is so fresh, she can still feel the blood on her hands—the diamond ax that hangs heavy at her side, but Scott laughs again and squeezes her. He won’t let go, he can’t. 
Can he?

“I haven’t heard anything from you,” Pearl whispers. Her chin rests on his shoulder. Participants walk by as if it’s nothing, and it gives Pearl relief that none of them care enough to look. “Where have you been?” She desperately asks him.
Scott pulls away, holding onto her shoulders, reaching up to swipe away a loose tear that’s fallen from her eyes. They’re bright blue like the sky, instead of the flaming red that destroyed everyone.
“I haven’t heard anything from you,” Scott tells her, brows pushed together in concern. “I was—sending you messages almost daily, I thought you were ignoring me!” 
Pearl gapes for a moment. Her hand reaches down to her pocket, patting for her communicator.
“I wasn’t! I didn’t get anything, honestly! Look I can—” 
He reaches down to grab her hand. The ticks of the timer are ringing throughout the Server, growing louder and louder as it inches closer to zero. Scott is staring at the numbers.
“We..We don’t have time.” He says, mildly annoyed. “We’ll figure it all out later, I swear but—” Scott looks at her again and takes a shaky breath before throwing his arms around Pearl again. She leans into Scott, gripping the back of his shirt. “I'm sorry. I really am,” He tells her, voice wracked with guilt.
“Scott Smajor, apologizing to me? This is a new one,” Pearl lilts, smiling to herself when Scott's chest shakes with laughter. 
“It’s the only one you’ll ever get,” And he means it. He doesn’t plan on allowing that to happen again. 

“I’m sorry too.” Pearl says after a moment, and it only gets her a harsh squeeze from Scott, who murmurs for her to shut it. He doesn’t want one, and she knows that, but he deserves it anyways. Even if he doesn’t believe it. 
And the timer is still going, growing closer and closer.
Scott mumbles into her shoulder.
“I know winning doesn't feel good.”
He’s right. It feels draining, as if she was mourning someone who wasn’t even dead. But at this point, she doesn’t really care about it anymore. 
Pearl sighs gently. “I just missed you.”

Scott hums. 
“You did? After all that?”
She pulls away from Scott, holding onto the edge of his shirt as fireworks boom behind her and the timer buzzes.
“Yeah, even after all that.”

Chapter Text

They placed ninth.
Ninth.

Which, to Pearl, didn’t really matter. She never signed up to take it seriously, so it doesn’t really bother her when the Orange Ocelots rush up to center stage, adorning shiny golden crows. In fact, she was pretty happy, considering it was Martyns first win.
She links her arm with Scotts, who’s standing right next to her. 
“You owe Martyn a coin,” Pearl reminds Scott, who scoffs, and gently bumps her shoulder. 
“I’ll never hear the end of it from Cleo if we get these communicators working,” Scott says, pulling off to the side when Martyn promptly jumps off the stage and runs through the crowd, a few players trailing behind him and shouting at his victory.

“Oh Gosh, we should look at that.” She mutters.
Pearl pulls Scott through the crowd of players, further until the cramped space begins to open up to the familiar sandstone and wooden paths. She steps onto the pale wood, and unlinks her arm, reaching to her pocket to pull out her communicator. It’s a bright orange, similar to the color of the hills back at her base. The screen is smudged and cracked from corner to corner, with small dull colored buttons below. The edges are rigged from dropping it so many times. 
She reluctantly hands it to Scott, who stares at it before make a face at her,
“Do you throw it at a wall every morning?”
Pearl gapes, offended as she snatches the communicator back.
“No! I’m a busy person—my base is huge, ” She rambles, only to shut her mouth when Scott hands her his communicator, which looks brand new.

“That’s from Season One,”
“It is not.”  Pearl argues.
“It is. That thing has been through one empire and soon, two,”
She clicks her tongue, shoving the teal device back into his hands as he laughs at her. Then, Scott links their arms again, beginning to pull her towards the Hall of Fame, the scattered players becoming less and less prominent the further they move.

“It’s probably quieter in there,” Scott says as he lets go of her arm, holding his hand out to her. Pearl stares at the palm of his hand for a moment, before blinking and setting down her communicator. Scott says a small ‘thank you’, following the steps down to the lower lever of the building. 
And, since Scott is always right, the area is empty, for now at least. Pearl can see the new display of the Orange Ocelots in the corner of the room, with Martyn standing tall. She ignores it, after a moment, and returns to Scott. 
He’s sitting on the edge of one of the team displays, the MCC 20 display to be exact, with both communicators lying on their front sides.

“I’m not a redstone genius, by the way,” Scott says.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be Etho, or anything.” Pearl says as she sits on the opposite side of him. She reaches out to toy with the fake plants, rubbing at the fake feeling.
“Yeah there’s—not that many Redstoners this month,” Scott mumbles, sticking his finger into the small gap between the orange back of the communicator and the screen. “So we can’t ask for help.”

Pearl stares at her device, 
“What’s happening?” She asks him, worry lacing her voice.
Scott stills, for a moment, before pushing apart the pieces, slowly. He’s careful, only moving until there is a click for each clip holding it together.
“I’ve done this before. That’s how they fix them, Pearl,”
She leans away reluctantly, opting to not watch in case there was a disaster. Impulse could, probably, fix her up a new one if it actually broke—but that would be the third time this month. Which is why she really didn’t want this one broken. 

Because Impulse would actually be very upset, now that she’s thinking about it.

“Wait, actually—” She begins to say, but there’s a final click and a small clutter, and the device is now pulled apart in two. Pearl stares at it, and then up to Scott, who’s looking at the pieces with a frown.
“Yes, that was meant to happen,” Scott confirms after a moment, and Pearl exhales as she falls back into the display. The lights from above are bright, but at this point it’s a challenge between her and her will.

Scott leaves her be. He knows he’s not going to break the communicator, but he’s sure no amount of convincing will actually reassure Pearl. He’s only looking for obvious things, anyways, since all he knows is the above basic level in redstone. So nothing grand.
Scott only checks for out of place wires, maybe a disconnect from the chip that actually allows server to server communication, but there’s nothing. Which stumps him.

And that’s when he gets a brilliant idea.
“Sit up,” He quickly says to Pearl, who responds by doing just that with an excited jump.
“What?” She asks, leaning closer to him. He holds the two pieces out to her, which she takes with both hands while glancing up at him. She’s a bit confused.
“Uh—I’ve got this thing, on Empires,” he starts, snapping his fingers and producing a small, white spark. Scott blinks, and his left blue eye is replaced with a striking yellow. Pearl almost shouts in excitement. 

He rubs the eye with the palm of his hand, gently guiding Pearl's hands to hold the device in front of him. Scott pulls his palm away from his eye, finally looking down at both pieces while Pearl silently watches him. It’s quiet for a few minutes, with Scott grabbing at some small wires, until there’s a shout.

“It’s down here!” 
It’s a familiar voice, and it causes Scott to look up from the device and frown.
“That’s Quig. Orange is coming down here,” He mumbles before going back to what he was doing. And shortly after, the Orange Ocelots do run by, with Martyn tugging Eret along followed by Quig and Finnster. Pearl watches, and Orange is much too busy with themselves to notice her and Scott.
Or at least she thinks they are.

“There’s…something in here,” Scott says quietly. Pearl is still staring at the Orange Ocelots and they pose in front of their display, “Pearl, somethings in your communicator,”
Pearl begins to look away, but not in time to miss Martyns' glance right after Scott speaks. 
She looks down to eye her communicator.
“Martyns listening,” She says to Scott, who almost immediately scoffs.
“Can he mind his business?” He asks the air, irritated, almost raising his voice. They hear Martyn sputter from the corner of the room, and the Ocelots pause for a moment before derailing into more laughter. The win is too significant to care about anything else. “Well, he can join if he wants. I don’t care,” Scott mutters.
He points to an input in the circuit of the device, an unplugged wire to the side. 

“Do you see that?”
Pearl squints, almost shoving the piece into her face.
“..No?”
“The glowing mark.” He taps the input with his painted nail. It’s chipped. “Where the serial numbers are,” 
“Still no.” She mutters. It looks like basic numbers to her, no glowing mark in sight.
“Well, maybe if you used an eye that wasn’t normal?” He asks her, the answer obvious. Pearl jumps in realization. 
“I totally forgot about that,” She snorts as a slit on her cheekbone splits open, revealing a bright white eye with a purple hue, scanning the room curiously. It lands on Scott, studies him, before looking down into the circuit of the communicator. 
That’s when Pearl sees it. A bright red mark, scratched into the space of the random serial number. It’s messy and rigid, and to her confusion, resembles an M.
“..Does yours have that?” She asks slowly, looking up at Scott with all three eyes. He sighs in the same confusion, pulling her arm towards him to get a closer look at the mark. 

“I don’t know.” 

And now, there’s a mess of two opened communicators on the edges of the displays. Pearls, and now Scott’s. 
To both their discomfort, the same mark appears in Scott’s communicator. 
That’s when he laughs, nervously, eyes darting between both marks.
“What the fuck,” Is all he whispers, and it allows Pearl to give him a nervous laugh. 

They’re huddled together, over both communicators, ignoring the commotion of the ending tournament and the other players that have begun to file into the lower lever of the hall. 
The eye on Pearl's cheekbone catches something before she does, bright lime green and a deep purple settled onto a white shirt are descending down the stairs. There’s dirty blond and deep brown, a bright purple stream of hair throwing her off guard.

“It’s Jimmy and Joel,” she gets out quickly, and it’s the first time Pearl has seen Joel up close since the Server. They shared glances during the games, but she hadn’t heard his voice in a while. 
She can still feel the lingering wound, as he gets closer and closer with Jimmy at his side, the giant gash across her chest that Joel ripped through her with his ax, screaming with red boiling rage. It burns, it hurts, it’s shared—

 Scott turns his head just as the two arrive in front of them. He must be making a face, because Joel stares at him with a blank face and Jimmy’s hand falls to his side after he brings it up to offer a small wave.
“We haven’t even said anything, yet you’re staring at us as if we’ve killed your llamas.” 
Scott rolls his eyes, pulling away from the communicators and the utter mess they’ve become.
“We’re trying to figure out why our messages aren’t going through across servers.” 
Joel blinks, and looks at Pearl.
“None have gone through? From both ends?” 
Pearl slowly nods, and the golden brown shine to his eyes is what reminds her to snap out of her thoughts. She pushed him when he was Red, and it was entirely deserved, and he only followed through because of their situation.
That was over now. There was no life system. 
There was no Red.
“Scott pulled apart the communicators thinking it was a problem with that and—we found something , but that’s all we've got right now.” She eventually says, “I'm guessing that’s carried over to multiple communicators.” 

“But how?” Scott asks, outloud. He’s holding the back piece of his own, where the input is placed, and he’s staring at it as if it’ll change. “It looks like, redstone,” He throws out there, and Pearl once again leans for it, but now Joel is at Scott’s other side. 
“Can you see it? It’s like—an M, and red, and bright.” Scott asks Joel, who squints at the wires and such.
“It’s dull for me, but I can see it.” He admits, and Scott sucks in a breath.

“Okay. That—” Scott starts, but he’s frowning again. He sets down his communicator and gently shakes Joel’s arm, reaching out to motion Jimmy closer. “Give me your communicators,”
“You’re just gonna break ‘em like the other two,” Joel argues, motioning towards Pearl and Scott’s, which are pushed to the side now, but Jimmy hands his over without question. Joel gives him a look, a brow raised, but Jimmy only stares back with a face that maybe only Joel understands. 
That’s when Joel hands his over as well.

Scott pulls them apart in seconds, laying them flat out while he pushes a few wires to the side. 
Pearl watches Scott, still, up until there’s a nervous chill up her spine. She glances up, watching Martyn detach himself from the Orange Ocelots and make his way over. 
“Martyn’s coming,” She tells Scott, who glances behind him to look. Martyn smiles, waves his hand a bit, and manages to place himself between Jimmy and Joel.

“So, what’s going on?” He innocently asks. 
Joel opts to catch him up, 
“Is that why Cleo hasn’t responded to me?” Martyn gasps dramatically.
“You message her?” Joel questions, “She like, hates you.” 
Martyn chokes out an offended noise.

“Well, it’s useful to know it’s not just Empires and Hermitcraft.” Scott mutters to himself.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimmy says at Pearl's side, and she looks at him out of the corner of her eyes. He doesn’t seem to mind all three of them. “What’s he doing, over there? On Hermitcraft,”
Pearl leans back a bit, tapping her fingers against the quartz.
“Well, I’m assuming you mean Tango,” She says, raising a brow, and Jimmy slowly nods. “Well, I haven’t checked recently but—there’s this thing called Decked Out, which he made a few Seasons before, but he’s remaking it. Bigger and better this time, is what he said—he plans to have a warden, and he’s making his own discs for it. Oh! Oh Gosh, and the Nether Hub!” She remembers, and her mind has completely slipped from the communicators. “He built our Nether Hub! The Hermits are kind of in charge of the tunnels, but he made the foundation, and it’s beautiful. He spent ages on it.” Pearl pauses for a moment, giving Jimmy a smile. “I'm sure he’d love to give you a tour, if you’re ever able to visit.” 

Pearl expects something hopeful out of Jimmy, but now he’s messing with the sleeves of his obnoxiously bright sweater. 
“I tried to go,” Jimmy says to her, and Scott pauses his fingers in front of her. “Fwhip couldn’t—uh, open the Void, really,”
Scott lifts his head to stare at Jimmy, eyes wide.
“What?”  
There’s an urgency in his voice, and the panic seems to also be shared with Martyn, who’s looking at Jimmy with his mouth open. 
Jimmy seems unsure of what mood he’s caused, so he takes a nervous step back. 
“Joel and I had a chat and I wanted to, yknow, visit Tango so I asked Fwhip. He said yes, duh, and then he tried opening the Void to allow me to Server Hop but it didn’t…work?”

At Martyns side, Joel gapes, staring at Jimmy with utter disbelief.
“What?” 
Again, Jimmy remains with an unsure expression.
“We tried other SMPs, and those weren’t working either, but—”
“But MCC works,” Scott finishes for him.

It’s silent. 
But then something clicks in Pearl's head.
“But, that doesn’t make sense. Gem and False are getting through no problem,” 
Scott takes a deep breath at that, but continues to stay silent, because he can’t actually think of an answer to that. That’s when his eye catches it, the same red mark inside both communicators. 

“Maybe it’s just targeting us,” He mutters.
Martyn groans at his side, and it practically grabs everyone’s attention. He’s covering his face with his hands, and his golden crown is now tilted.
“Don’t say it’s targeting us, that implies at least two things. One, that there’s an it, two, that we are in danger.”  
Scott frowns.
“Well, what else am I meant to say? Gem and False aren’t apart of the Life Series—”
“But neither is Fwhip, so he should still be able to open the Void,” Joel slips in, to which Pearl hums in agreement, but then frowns as her brain keeps moving. “But Xisuma allowed Gem and False their own ways to freely travel between Empires,now that I think about it,  and this was established before the Life Server. We don’t know if Xisuma can open the Void to Empires now. We haven’t tried on our end,” 

“So, somehow, your Admins have lost the ability to open a way between the two servers?” Martyn asks, to which Pearl slowly nods to.
“I’m assuming it’s the same with Xisuma since Fwhip couldn’t.” She mumbles. 
“So, we might actually be being targeted?” Martyn once again asks, and Scott silently nods. “And there might actually be a big problem on our hands?” 
“For Gods sake, yes,” Joel says to him. His arms crossed, and they’re gripping the short sleeves of his shirt. “Can we even get home?” He asks Scott.

Scott rubs his cheek, squinting at the floor.
“..I mean, yes? MCC gives everyone the ability to Server Hop once, and that’s to get home. And there was no problem getting here. It might just be exclusive to SMPs, and us,” 
“Not that any of us would want to go there, but realistically that means we couldn’t go to the DreamSMP?” Martyn asks. 
“ Any SMP.” Scott says sternly..

Jimmy huffs off to the side.
“So, what do we do? If we go home, we have no way of talking to each other to figure this out.” 
And Jimmy’s, unfortunately, and maybe for the first time in his life, right about something. Pearl rubs her arm, before she scoops the two pieces of her communicator into her hands. 
“I need to go home,”
Scott looks at her, uneasy. And the look reminds her of when he had red eyes, with a flint and steel in his hands and TNT in the other. “Well, it’s logical—” She tells him, but it doesn’t ease his expression, “If it’s specifically from the Life Server, someone has to tell Grian.”
“And someone has to test if Xisuma can open a path to Empires,” Joel mutters.

Pearl shoots him a quick glance, and he’s stuck staring at her for a moment before he looks at Scott.
Scott’s fallen into the motion of clicking things back into place in the communicators. He begins to piece Jimmy’s together again, slowly but surely, with his brows furrowed together. 
Pearl reaches over to gently tap his knee,
“It’s not gonna be the last time we talk. If we can’t figure out something soon, we have next MCC—”
“A whole month.” Scott reminds her, and she pauses her next words before gripping his knee.
“A whole month to figure this out. I’ll tell Grian, and we’ll get Doc and Tango on the communicators, Impulse too. As for Server Hopping, Xisuma can help tons with it while Grian and I see if there’s, yknow, something worse.” The last part is what worries Scott, but Pearl doesn’t seem to latch onto her words for long. “We’ll figure it out,”

Scott silently hands Jimmy his communicator, slowly moving to piece Joel’s together. He’s careful with the small sticker in the corner of the device, one from Lizzie. 
“Okay, sure,” Scott says quietly, but there’s still a stubbornness in his voice. “Tell Grian. Tell—all of them, actually, everyone on the Life Server. Grian can figure out how to tell BigB.” He mutters, handing Joel his communicator. “And then we go one from there.” 

It takes them only a few minutes to say goodbye.
They don’t pretend like it’s forever, because in reality it would only be one month. But a month full of the unknown across both servers feels taunting—it feels intentional. 
Pearl isn’t sure what to think when Scott hugs her goodbye. They latch onto each other for what feels like an hour until Scott pulls away. 
The worry from before has melted away from his exterior demeanor, since he’s decided to mumble about how he has to check in with Noxcrew before leaving. 
“MCC things, and all that,” He huffs. “Be careful, okay?” Is all he can tell Pearl before he turns to Martyn and gently pushes his shoulder.

“Dunno if that coins gonna get to you, considering our mess,” Scott says honestly, and it actually causes Martyn to deflate in disappointment. He begins to demand one now, since Scott’s right here, and it shouldn’t be that hard— but Scott simply gives a quick wave, and teleports.
Just. Like. That. 

“Him and those ridiculous Admin powers!” Martyn argues at nothing, and it actually makes Pearl laugh considering their situation.
He turns to them, a bit exhausted, with a bright green shine in his eyes. It combats whatever subtle purple Pearl has in hers. 
“I’m off, then. Don’t forget about me and BigB because we aren’t on those fancy little SMPs,” He huffs, pointing at the three of them. Joel waves him off.
“We’ll definitely invite you next season,” He teases, and Martyn clutches his heart dramatically before rushing off. The crown on his head shines gently under the moonlight of the server.

“Any last words for me?” Pearl asks the remaining two. 
“Yeah, actually,” Joel starts, toying with the yellow ribbon around his wrist. “How’s Etho?”
Pearl pauses to blink. She thinks, really, to if she’s spoken to Etho at all on the Server but—
“We haven’t talked much, actually..” She says to Joel, and she sees a bit of disappointment in his eyes, but it’s not obvious from afar. “He’s moved in with Bdubs and Ren, and they’re kinda far from my base,” She admits, but Joel shrugs it off like it doesn’t matter. 
Pearl knows he cares, but there’s nothing she can really tell him—she doesn’t know, and at this point she really wishes she did.

Then, Joel nudges Jimmy.
He glares at him for a second, before his expression changes into something nervous. 
“..Xisuma,” he starts, and Pearl raises a curious brow, “How is he with visitors?”
Pearl's eyes widen with surprise, and she scratches her chin to think. 

“Uh.. usually, we have to tell him if we want someone to visit. That’s why I mentioned it earlier, if Tango mentioned you, Xisuma would usually do a little research before letting you in for a bit,” She drops her hand and narrows her eyes at Jimmy, “But we don’t have time or the ability to go back and forth now–I’d have to tell him first, then come back to guide you and you wouldn’t even be able to get home after that.” Pearl realizes his plan after seeing a pleading stare in his eyes. “Not until the next MCC, at least, and this isn’t the best situation for you to consider staying on Hermitcraft for a month, I—” Pearl pauses her rambling, and she looks between them, and stops at Joel when she sees a similar look in his eyes. “Are you encouraging this?”

Joel shrugs.
“Only a little. It gets the law off my back for a month. Also lets him see Tango.” 
“But—” She turns to Jimmy, “Don’t you have a whole Empire to run, Jimmy? Being gone for a month—”
“We just started,” He says with a short laugh, and he’s doing a good job at hiding whatever desperation he has, “There aren’t that many citizens. Joel offered to feed Norman,”
“Which was a secret,” Joel hisses at his side, and Jimmy ignores it.

“I could get in trouble,” Pearl says finally, which she doesn’t really mean to say, but the idea of bringing Jimmy with her is worrying her a bit. “Oh, where’s a Hermit when you need one—” She mumbles, grabbing her communicator. She’s actually unsure if it works now, considering how Scott dug through every circuit piece, but she clicks a few buttons regardless. 
Surprisingly, the screen brightens after a few seconds.

“I’m surprised that it's still working,” Joel says at her side, and she’s equally as shocked.
“I know,” She whispers, clicking open the player roster.
Half of the names are gray, signifying that a decent number of players have traveled home. She scans through the multicolored names, biting her lip when Falses name appears gray, and Cubs, and—

Not Scars.

She practically jumps into the air, quickly typing messages into the public chat, over and over, 

<Pearlescentmoon> SCAR 
<Pearlescentmoon> SCAR
<Pearlescentmoon> SCAR I NEED YOU 
<Pearlescentmoon> HALL OF FAME ENTRANCE 

Scars response is almost immediate.

<GoodtimewithScar> on my way!

Pearl manages a sigh of relief. 
And, it actually doesn’t take Scar that long to arrive. He manages to find them after scouting the area for a few minutes, and he strolls up to him as if he’s just won the event himself. 
Gosh, that lime jacket is horrible.

“You called?” He asks as he takes a glance at Joel and Jimmy, giving them his award winning grin. 
The grin is almost immediately wiped away when Pearl summarizes their entire problem at hand, along with Jimmy's idea.
The grin staggers, but he takes the news.. surprisingly well. He looks at Jimmy with curious eyes once he gets a moment to think.
“Really?” He  slowly asks, and Jimmy stiffens.
“You guys aren’t making Hermitcraft sound as welcoming as it is.” He admits, and Scar and Pearl share a look.
Pearl grips her communicator, and inches closer to Scar. 
“You’ve been on the Server way longer than I have. What do you think?”
Scar crosses his arms over his chest and thinks for a few minutes. 
“Well, okay,” Scar starts, turning to Jimmy, “Fwhip is your Admin, right? Someone has to tell him,”

“I’ll tell Fwhip,” Joel says to Scar, “Fwhip, most likely, will not care. He’s not really– that kind of Admin. Trust me,” 
“Great,” Scar says with a smile. “Yeah, it’ll be fine.” He hums happily, looking at Pearl, who holds up a questioning thumbs up. He returns it.

Then Joel pulls Jimmy away after a moment, only a few feet away to speak to him alone. Whatever they’re discussing, worries Pearl a bit, because Jimmy looks in the general direction of where Noxcrew meets after the events. 
Scott probably doesn’t know, and there’s no time to tell him now.

“I’ll tell Xisuma the situation. Enough of us know Jimmy, so it won’t take long to convince him, I just need like five minutes,” Scar tells her, and she breathes out.  “Just make sure to guide him there. He could definitely get lost,” He reminds her before quietly excusing himself. He strides over to Joel and Jimmy, clapping them on the back and speaking to Jimmy for a reasonable amount of time. 
They were teamed together, after all.
His words with Joel are short, but kind, Pearl assumes, because Joel smiles at him before he leaves. 

This time, Pearl watches the chat until Scar actually leaves the Server before she motions Jimmy over.
Jimmy says a few words to Joel, who responds like always, witty and teasingly, before he waves goodbye to Pearl. 
Like Scar, she watches his name pop into the chat and then quickly disappear. 
Jimmy stands next to her.
“Scar said five minutes, so I’m giving him ten. Is that okay?”
He nods in response, and the nerves from before have been replaced with something exciting. There’s a small shake to Jimmy’s hands, and Pearl finds it rather fun.

“Excited to see him?” She asks teasingly. A minute has gone by on her communicator.
There’s a nervous smile on Jimmy’s face.
“Extremely.” 

Nine minutes feel like nothing.