Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Grian whispers to you: MUMBO HELP I BROKE SOMETHING 

Mumbo sighed. Of course Grian broke something. He strapped into his elytra and took off with a firework. It was only a short distance to Grian’s base. They were neighbors, after all. He scanned the base, not finding Grian anywhere. He opened his communicator again. 

You whisper to Grian: where are you? 

Grian whispers to you: Doc’s tunnel bore 

He paled as the blood drained from his face. That… wasn’t good. It was, in fact, very very bad. He rushed out of the base and flew, in his opinion, not nearly fast enough. The Perimeter came into view. He swooped down and flew into the bore hole. A very nervous Grian waited for him. Scar stood beside him, looking guilty. 

“Grian! Scar! What- how did- how ?” He sputtered. 

“We were just messing around-”

“With redstone!? You guys, how many times have you been told not to mess with redstone? Especially other people’s redstone!” Mumbo was almost hysterical. They both looked ashamed. 

Scar shifted uncomfortably. “But… how could we resist free diamonds?” 

Mumbo groaned. What was he going to do with these two? “What am I supposed to do about it? And when are you going to tell Doc? Because I don’t want to be there.” 

“We were thinking you could fix it? Hopefully before Doc finds out?” 

“Too late.” The creeper cyborg melted out of the shadows. All three of them jumped. 

Grian was starting to look properly panicked now. “Hey, Doc, my friend, did I mention how handsome you look today? And oh my gosh you did not skip leg day, and your redstone is amazing, a-and…” His feathers were puffing up under Doc’s glare. 

Scar took over. “Here, have a balloon,” he shoved a Scarland balloon into his hand and some cat ears onto his head, “and look how cute you are in those cat ears!”  Doc stood tall, towering over all of them, and frowning. Mumbo didn’t think he looked cute at all. He looked terrifying. 

Mumbo felt ice crawl down his spine as he heard Doc start to hiss. He threw his shield up just in time to negate the explosion damage. He heard Grian and Scar shriek in alarm as he felt the shockwave hit his shield. His communicator buzzed. 

Docm77 blew up 

GoodTimeWithScar was blown up by Docm77

Grian was blown up by Docm77 

<iskall85> rip 

<ZombieCleo> lol 

<xisumavoid> What happened? 

<Mumbo> they blew up his tunnel bore 

<xisumavoid> oh dear 

<Grian> it was an accident! 

<GoodTimeWithScar> yeah what he said 

<Docm77> both of you come to my base 

<iskall85> oh you guys are dead 

Mumbo flew out of the bore hole and towards Doc’s base. The building loomed over the Perimeter. He saw Scar and Grian coming as well. They landed outside and headed in. Mumbo wordlessly handed their stuff to them. 

Doc was standing inside, arms crossed. “You are both in a lot of trouble.” They hung their heads. 

Scar pulled some diamond blocks out of his inventory. “We’re sorry.” He tossed the diamonds over to Doc. 

“Do you think I need diamonds? I have infinite diamonds! Or at least I did, before you blew up my tunnel bore!” Doc stepped forward, his fur standing on end, making him seem bigger than he actually was. His presence filled the room, making even Mumbo nervous, and he wasn’t even the one the anger was directed at. Grian stumbled backwards, bumping against one of the half-finished machines Doc had a habit of leaving around his base. 

A whirring started up inside it. All four of them froze. The whirring got louder, and light started emitting from it. Mumbo cleared his throat. “Doc, uh- what does that machine do?” 

“It shouldn’t do anything yet! I put a safety measure in place!” He rushed over to it, examining it. He tensed as he apparently saw what he was looking for. His organic eye was the widest he’d ever seen it. “Grian… you knocked off the safety.” 

Mumbo felt ice shoot through his veins. Only extremely dangerous machines had a safety lock. The light and whirring got more intense, and he felt the world around him start to warp. Xisuma would definitely detect that. 

Sure enough, Xisuma teleported in next to him. “What’s happening?” At this point, he had to shout to be heard over the noise. He quickly spotted Doc working frantically on the thing. “Doc, what is that thing?” 

He looked up. “Well-” The machine emanated a high-pitched, ear-piercing noise, and then the light enveloped them. Mumbo felt himself spinning and spinning, wind whipping his hair around and ruffling his clothes. He felt as if he was falling and floating at the same time. It was incredibly bright, and the noise didn’t stop. He covered his ears and curled up into a ball, hoping it would stop soon. 

Chapter Text

Grian tumbled through the light and noise. He flailed around, desperately searching for a foothold or something to grab. It didn’t work. A warping sensation grew and grew inside him, until it finally snapped, and he landed on concrete. He felt his wing crunch underneath him. He cried out. 

“Grian? Are you okay?” Mumbo’s voice sounded near him. He heard Mumbo shuffle towards him. “Where even are we?” he muttered. 

“Hurts.” he complained. 

“I know, I know.” He paused. “You’re going to have to get off of that wing so I can look at it, okay?” Grian nodded and started rolling over. The movement aggravated it further, pain shooting through his wing. He groaned. The edges of his vision started to go dark. He felt hands on his wing. He tried to flinch, but the hands held firm. Mumbo’s voice came again. “Doc, can you scan his wing with your eye?” 

Grian heard heavy footsteps approaching. He waited for a moment. “Several fractures.” 

He shuddered. “Crap.” His wing was on fire . He looked around. They were in an alley he didn’t recognize. It was clearly night, but the area around them was lit up so bright he couldn’t see any stars. He also spotted Scar and Xisuma, both of them looking around in confusion. He tried to get up. They should find someone’s base. He was able to sit up before the pain forced him to stop moving. 

Scar saw him and rushed over. “That wing looks bad.” he said, a worried expression on his face. 

“Guys?” They all looked at Xisuma. “We’re not on Hermitcraft.” 

There was silence for a few moments. Grian pulled out his communicator. It wouldn’t turn on. He pushed the buttons harder. It didn’t work. “My communicator’s fried.” The rest also checked their communicators and confirmed that they were broken as well. 

Scar started walking towards the entrance to the alley. “I’ll see if there are any people around who can help.” 

Doc looked sceptical. “What if the people on this server are not friendly?” 

“I won’t lead them back to you. And anyway, I can be a little extra convincing if I need to be.” Scar being half Vex did have its perks. He had promised to never use his Vex powers on the hermits, but that didn’t extend to people from other servers. 

“At least take X-eye-soOoma with you.” Grain said, deliberately mispronouncing his name. 

Xisuma chuckled. “Good to see you well enough to joke. Once you stop joking, that’s when things are bad.” He followed Scar, disappearing around the corner. 

***

As soon as Scar stepped out of the alleyway, multicolored lights nearly blinded him. “Woah. What is this place?” Colorful signs lined the buildings, illuminating the street. Even though it was night, people were still milling about. He had only seen this many people in the world hub. This server must be unbelievably strong to support this many people. He didn’t see any hybrids, which was worrying. He really hoped this was a hybrid accepting server. He could hide his more Vexish traits with a simple glamor, but Grian and Doc didn’t have that luxury. 

His thoughts were interrupted when a woman who was clearly intoxicated shouted at them. “Nice costume!” She stumbled into Xisuma, leaning on him for support. “Whuh r’ you, a astronaut?” 

“No, I’m a Voidwalker.” He guided her to a street bench. “You should probably sober up.” he added after she pulled another beer can out of her purse. 

“Sober? In Las Vegas? Nah’ a chance .” She took a large swig. 

Scar cringed at the way the drink spilled on her shirt. “Is that where we are? Las Vegas?” 

“Yep! Jeez, you mus’ be drunker than me if y’ don’ know where we are.” Her head lolled as she turned to look at him. “You have v’ry blue eyes.” 

“Thanks.” He pulled Xisuma over to another bench. They sat down. “Do you know if the Admin of Las Vegas is nice?” 

He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of Las Vegas at all. I’m surprised a server this big isn’t widely known.” They had seen at least forty different people, and that number kept climbing. 

“Yeah… with this many people, they must have an army of Admins.” 

Chapter Text

“ No Admins? You’re telling me that this world is running smoothly with no Admins? ” He was in a nearby cafe. The person at the counter was looking severely confused, but Scar was even more so. “How many people are in this world anyway?” 

“Um… about eight billion… what do you mean ‘this world?’” The barista was looking at him like he had grown two heads. 

“ Eight- eight billion? Holy mother of Jellie!” He took a moment to comprehend the information. It didn’t make any sense . Any server of that number would crash instantly, and everyone would be booted to the hub. 

She looked uncomfortable. “Do you want to order something? You’re holding up the line.” Scar looked behind him. Five disgruntled looking people stood behind him. 

Suddenly very self-aware, he exited the building and met up with Xisuma. “Dude, they have a server with eight billion people and no Admins. ” 

Xisuma gaped. “Eight billion? That’s insane !” He glanced around. “I guess that explains why there are so many people living so close together.” It was incredibly different from Hermitcraft, where people tended to spread out. 

“X, we should get something for Grian’s wing.” No matter how many people were here, the world seemed to be stable, so their first priority was Grain. 

***

Doc had completely disassembled his communicator. He sighed. “There’s no repairing these.” The communicator in front of him was warped and sooty to the point where he couldn’t identify any of the parts, much less fix them. 

Grian’s eyes widened. “You have to try.” 

“I can’t! Look at these parts!” He picked one up and shoved it in Grian’s face. It crumbled in his fingers. “I can’t fix this!” 

Grian glared at him. “Well, not with that attitude.” 

“ With- Grian! These parts are useless! ” 

“Then how are we going to get back to Hermitcraft? Please. ” He started to tear up. 

“I don’t know! And we wouldn’t be in this situation if you and Scar hadn’t messed with my tunnel bore!” Doc was close to yelling now. His voice reverberated in the alleyway, making him sound even louder. People walking past the alley glanced in, but quickly moved on when they saw a very angry Doc. He was intimidating, and he knew it. 

“Woah!” Mumbo interjected. “Both of you, calm down. Grian, Doc did the best he could. We will find a way back to Hermitcraft, just maybe not immediately.” He turned to Doc. “They didn’t do it on purpose. They absolutely should not have touched your redstone, but they didn’t intend to blow it up. Also, we are not in the greatest position right now, so drop it, at least until we get back . ” Mumbo’s cheeks were a little red. He had never seen Mumbo angry before. He was one of the most collected people on Hermitcraft. 

Doc hesitated, but backed down. “Fine, but when we get back,” he looked Grian square in the eyes, “we are going to have words. ” Grian nodded and settled against Mumbo’s side. He hissed in pain as his fractured wing moved slightly. 

Doc leaned against the brick wall. He hated this. He hated not knowing what to do, he hated not knowing how to fix this. Everything about this place was horrible. The ground and wall were hard, making him sore. The noises from outside the alley were too loud. The stink of cigarette and alcohol was heavy in the air. His inventory was gone, and he was tired from pulling two all-nighters in a row. The only thing to do was wait for Scar and Xisuma to get back. He didn’t like waiting. It felt like he was wasting time. It wasn’t efficient. 

Someone was shaking his shoulder. “Doc.” He opened his eye, realizing he had fallen asleep. Xisuma smiled at him. They were back! He saw that Scar was armed with bandages. 

He straightened from where he had slouched. “What did you find?” 

Scar started to bind Grian’s wing to his side with the bandages, and Xisuma settled against the opposite wall. “We’re in a server with eight billion people and no admins. The area we’re currently in is called Las Vegas” 

“What?” Doc’s mind was whirling. “No server in existence could handle that!” 

“I know. It’s a mystery to me too. This place… it seems to somewhat maintain order without an Admin.” He let out a weary sigh. “I’m just confused. Who bans griefers? Who fixes bugs? Who makes sure everyone follows the rules?” He let his head bump on the wall behind him, his helmet making a clacking noise as it hit. 

Scar looked up from what he was doing. “Maybe they call Admins something else? Anyway, I convinced a nice Motel lady to give us a room for free. It’s just a few city blocks down.” 

Chapter Text

Scar and Mumbo finished wrapping Grian’s wing. They were able to hide his wings under his oversized sweatshirt, making him look hunched over, but he could pass as human. Doc was an entirely different story. He was very clearly a creeper hybrid, and his cybernetic arm and eye stuck out like a blaze in a tundra biome. 

As they made their way to the motel, he garnered many questioning looks. A few people aimed small, flat, rectangular devices at him, and they flashed after a second. He wasn’t sure what they did, and made a mental note to get ahold of one for testing. 

Doc drifted closer to Xisuma. “X, there’s someone following us. Don’t be obvious, but they’ve been paralleling us across the street for a few minutes now. Brown coat with the bright yellow shirt underneath.” 

Xisuma threw a casual glance across the street. “I see him. Odd fashion choice, don’t you think?” He picked up the pace as he talked. The man also sped up. Xisuma slowed down. The man copied. “Yeah, he’s definitely following us.” 

“I could scare him off?” 

Xisuma shook his head. “We don’t want to draw attention.” He twisted around. “Scar?” 

Scar sped up to walk beside Doc and Xisuma. “Hm?” 

“Could you see what that guy wants?” he pointed at the man, who tensed, realizing he had been spotted. “And if it’s bad, please convince him to stop following us.” 

“Sure thing!” He walked with them a little farther, crossing the road at the next crosswalk. 

***

As he approached the strange man with the even stranger clothing choice, he hummed. He never got to use his Vex powers on Hermitcraft. There wasn’t any reason to. But ever since he had used them to get the free motel, they were aching for use. He wanted to warp the minds around him to his will. He wanted to phase through solid matter and slaughter anyone he found, and laugh at them as they tried to defend themselves. He wanted people to respect him, worship him, fear him. 

But that was his Vex half talking. With great effort, he squashed it down, clearing his mind of those awful thoughts. He was a good person. Using the power of the Vex had awoken an ugly side of himself that he had long since buried. He had promised himself to only use that power in emergencies. Xisuma didn’t know how much using it affected him, because Scar didn’t tell him. He pretended he was fine while wrestling with the darkness in his own mind. He could handle it. If he needed to twist this person’s mind, he was sure that he could fight off the Vex again. Pretty sure. 

He waved to the man. “Hello! Might I ask why you are following me and my friends?” 

“Well- I- umm-” He started stuttering. “I wasn’t!” he blurted, his face turning bright pink. 

“Of course you weren't. Staying directly across from us for a suspicious amount of time was a complete coincidence.” The man nodded frantically. Scar sighed. “You shouldn’t have lied to me.” He reached out with his mind and gave a command. Forget you ever saw us. His eyes glowed blue, the magic tingling in his fingers and rushing through his veins. It would be so easy to just crush his fragile mind. To shatter it and use the remains to fuel his magic. To suck that delicious soul out of his body. The sweet taste of soul magic was at his fingertips. And it was so tempting. 

No. No . He was letting the Vex get to him. He grimaced as he realized what he was just about to do. He peeled himself out of the man’s mind. Happy thoughts. Stay good. He wished Jellie was here to help. She always made being good easier. It took an incredible amount of willpower to walk away and rejoin the Hermits, leaving a dazed man in his wake. He plastered a smile on his face, an internal battle raging inside him. 

“He won’t be following us anymore.” He fell back to walk with Mumbo and Grian. “Hey Grian. Are you doing okay?” 

“I’ll live.” 

Scar frowned. “That’s a pretty low bar. Do you think you’ll make it to the motel? It’s only a block away now.” 

Grian waved him off. “Yeah, I’ll make it.” He snickered. “My wing’s broken, not my leg.” Still, he was in a weakened state. Unable to get away. If he went for the wing first to stun him… Scar shook his head violently, trying to shake his Vexish side away. Grian was his friend. He would never hurt him. He drifted so Mumbo was between him and Grian, anyway. Just in case. The motel came into view. Scar exhaled in relief. They would be able to rest soon. 

Chapter Text

Pearl was getting worried. Xisuma, Doc, Mumbo, Scar, and Grian had all left the game at the same time hours ago without telling anyone where they went. Usually, whenever a Hermit left the server, they would at least tell someone where they were going. She gazed at her communicator, looking at the last she’d heard from them. 

Docm77 blew up 

GoodTimeWithScar was blown up by Docm77

Grian was blown up by Docm77 

<iskall85> rip 

<ZombieCleo> lol 

<xisumavoid> What happened? 

<Mumbo> they blew up his tunnel bore 

<xisumavoid> oh dear 

<Grian> it was an accident! 

<GoodTimeWithScar> yeah what he said 

<Docm77> both of you come to my base 

<iskall85> oh you guys are dead 

Docm77 left the game 

Grian left the game 

GoodTimeWithScar left the game 

Mumbo left the game 

xisumavoid left the game 

Grian never left without telling her. After his sudden disappearance from Evo, he knew Pearl got nervous if she didn’t know where he was. Her brother would never do that to her. She took off, flapping her snowy owl wings, heading to the last place she knew they had been. 

Landing in the entrance to Doc’s base, she ran inside. Her eyes immediately landed on a smoking and sooty machine. Holes were blown in the sides, revealing a burned and blackened interior. The smell of burning redstone and molten iron assaulted her nose. 

She walked over and examined it. Crouching down, she tried to figure out what it was. Pearl had never been the best at redstone, and couldn’t make any sense of it. Maybe someone else could. She scrolled through the tab list, seeing if any redstoners were on the server. To her luck, Tango was online. 

<PearlescentMoon> Tango can you meet me at Doc’s base? 

<TangoTek> be right there

She paced as she waited for him to arrive. Did this thing have something to do with them leaving? The sound of a firework alerted her to someone approaching. Tango landed and saw the machine. 

“Woah. That’s busted.” He poked it, and a piece broke off. 

“Do you know what it is?” 

He grinned at her. “Not a clue! Why, are you wanting to see what Doc is up to?” 

Pearl wilted. “You know how they all left the game at the same time?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Grian didn’t tell me where they went.” 

The smile melted off of his face. “But he always tells you.” 

“Exactly. So they didn’t go voluntarily. This was the last place we know they were, and this,” she pointed to the machine, “clearly went wrong.” 

Tango slowly nodded. “So maybe if we find out what it was, we can find them.” He re-examined it. “I’ll do my best.” 

***

The Hermits had made it to the motel, and were sleeping. They had all agreed to get some rest before figuring anything out, but Xisuma couldn’t sleep. He was too worried. What if they were stuck? What would happen to Hermitcraft then? The only other Admin was Evil X, and Xisuma couldn’t say he was very good at it. 

Xisuma sipped his water, looking around the room. There were only two beds, so Scar and Grian shared one and Mumbo and Doc shared one. Doc had refused to share a bed with one of the two who blew up his tunnel bore. Xisuma had insisted on taking the reclining chair. He looked out the window. The sun wouldn’t come up for another three hours. 

He tried once again to turn on his communicator. It didn’t work. Not like he expected it to. Machines couldn’t just magically repair themselves. He snorted at the thought. Mumbo, who was closest to him, stirred. Xisuma froze, hoping he didn’t just wake up his friend. Several moments passed, and Mumbo didn’t move any more. Xisuma let out the breath he was holding. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb his Hermits. 

Chapter Text

Xisuma slowly opened his eyes. He must have dozed off. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the room. What? He sat up, causing a blanket that hadn’t been there previously to fall to the ground. He stared at a sun that was already hours into the sky. So in this server, you could sleep during the daytime. This crazy place was getting more confusing the longer they stayed there. 

“Weird, right?” Doc whispered to him. He glanced over to where the other Hermits were supposed to be sleeping. Only Grian was still in bed. Good, he needed all the rest he could get. 

“Yeah.” Waking up without the sun forcing him into awareness was bizarre. He felt a pang of hunger in his stomach. “Is there any food around?” 

“We couldn’t find any, so Mumbo went out to try and get a job so we can buy some.” 

Seeing the spike of anxiety that rose in Xisuma, Scar put his hand on Xisuma’s arm. “He’ll be careful. How hard could it be?” 

***

“And why do you want this job?” 

“Money.” 

Mumbo had not gotten the job he applied for. And it was the third one. Was he saying something wrong? He had been completely honest with them. Maybe they didn’t want honest. Did they want him to lie? Mumbo wasn’t very good at lying. 

He found a street bench to sit on. This was a disaster. How was he supposed to get food for the Hermits if he couldn’t get a job? He cupped his forehead in his hands and sighed. Grian needed food the most. If he didn’t eat, healing would take longer. He wished they had a potion of healing or regeneration. That would make everything easier. 

Maybe Scar could help… Mumbo shook his head, dismissing the idea. He suspected using his powers bothered Scar more than he was letting on. He had seen Scar flinch after using them last time. It was probably the guilt of using mind control. Scar was so kind that Mumbo had a hard time imagining the man had a bad bone in his body, let alone one that would make mind control okay for him. Mumbo would make sure Scar wouldn’t have to use it often. He hadn’t worked up the nerve to talk to Scar about it yet. Sometime , he promised himself, I’ll do it sometime . 

Meanwhile, a job was the goal. He looked up from his hands, and startled, seeing a person next to him. “Goodness me, you’ve scared the life out of me!” He hadn’t heard her sit down. 

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” She paused. “You’re British?” 

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but almost everybody he had talked to had commented something along those lines, so he just nodded. “Yep, British, that’s me.” 

She held out her hand. “I’m Jamie. What brings you around here?” 

Around here? Maybe ‘British’ had something to do with his accent? Everyone he heard sounded like Scar or Joe. He shook her hand. “Mumbo. And I’m looking for a job. Preferably one that pays enough to feed five people.” He straightened his suit. “Do you know of any?” If she didn’t, maybe he would get another Hermit to try finding one. He was pretty tired of searching. 

“Hm. Depends on what you went to school for.” She chuckled. “‘Mumbo’ is an unusual name.” 

He also let out a small laugh. “Mainly engineering, but I also took a class on cooking.” He started fidgeting. His inability to stay still for more than a minute was bothering him. 

“I don’t know about anything for engineering, but I work at a restaurant and I could put in a good word for you?” she offered. 

Mumbo perked up. “Really?” 

“Yeah, and the stove is always breaking and we have to pay someone to fix it. So having an engineer on hand will help a lot.” She grinned at him. 

“That sounds great!” He stood up. 

“Woah, sit down buddy.” Jamie pulled him back down. “I’ll have to text my supervisor first.” She pulled out a small device from her pocket. It lit up, and she tapped on a small square on it. A keyboard appeared at the bottom, and she started typing. Mumbo was fascinated by it. So the flat things were like communicators. 

Jamie looked up from her not-communicator. “Now we just have to wait for her response. It might take a bit, ‘cause she doesn’t always check her phone, and she prefers to keep it on silent.” 

So they were called phones. “That’s okay.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Quite the family, eh?” 

He gave her a confused look. “What?” 

“You said you had five people to feed.” 

“Oh! Yeah, they’re great.” His biological family was pretty crap, but the Hermits were amazing. 

Her phone dinged. She looked at it, and smiled. “She’s willing to give you an interview.” 

He smiled back. 

Chapter Text

Doc was bored. There was nothing to do around the tiny room they had. He walked back and forth across the space by the foot of the beds. The movement did very little to entertain him. If only he had some redstone. At least he would be able to try to build another machine to get them out of here. Maybe he could disassemble something for parts. 

He spotted a small white box that was sitting on the counter. It had a door on the front that he could see through. There was a panel with numbers on it as well. A wire connected it to the wall. He tugged on it, and it came loose. He carried it over to his bed and sat down. He tugged on the door and it came off with a snap. 

“Doc, why are you taking that thing apart?” Xisuma asked. 

“Maybe I can build something with it.” Examining it, he spotted a sticker on the bottom informing him not to put it in water while it was turned on. He scoffed, because who in their right mind put redstone underwater even when it wasn’t turned on? He used his mechanical hand to pry the plastic covering away from the bottom. Many different wires greeted him. They were probably filled with redstone. He took his time with dissecting the box. Soon he had all of the parts laid out in front of him, all organized into neat little piles. 

Doc started to fiddle with the parts, seeing what they did and how they worked. Eventually he slit open a wire to get the redstone inside. But there wasn’t any. Instead, all he found was copper. 

“What?” he muttered. How did copper carry a redstone current? Maybe the copper was encasing the redstone? He tore it apart and saw just solid copper. 

“Hm?” Grian questioned. 

“...There’s no redstone in this thing.” 

It was at that moment that Mumbo burst into the room. “I have food!” Everyone perked up at that. A new but delicious scent wafted into the room. 

“What is that?” Scar gestured to the box Mumbo was holding. 

“I’ve been told it’s a ‘large pizza’. Smells good, doesn’t it?” Mumbo put the box on the counter, and opened it, handing a piece to each person. “I got a job, by the way, and I start tomorrow. This nice person called Jamie gave me enough for this food. They don’t use diamonds as currency here; they use green paper with dead guy’s faces on it. It’s a bit weird, and super inconvenient, because the paper can be destroyed really easily.” 

“You didn’t tell them about us, did you?” Xisuma asked. 

“Only that I needed to feed five people. Other than that, no, I was very careful.” He paused, then wilted. “By the way, this is a hardcore world. If we die, there’s no coming back.” 

Grian groaned. “So that rules out killing me to fix my wing.” Scar snickered. 

“Now that everyone is here,” Xisuma broke in, “Doc, would you mind explaining what that machine was that brought us here?” 

Doc took a moment to figure out what he was going to say. “Everybody has a communicator. They’re how we hop between servers and talk long distance. We know where all the parts go in them, but we don’t know what they do, so we can’t make them from scratch. But they are insanely expensive, so I wanted to figure out how to build them myself. Grian knocked  the safety off of the prototype, and it probably sent us to a random server.” He reached over and grabbed his communicator. “Whatever went wrong also fried these.” 

Xisuma sighed. “Doc. Why didn’t you do that on a private server?” 

“Convenience.” 

“Oh my gosh.” 

Chapter Text

Grian fidgeted, trying to ignore the constant pain in his wing. Guilt assailed him as he thought about Pearl. She must be so worried. He never left without telling her. “Scar?” 

“Yeah?” 

“What if Doc and Mumbo can’t build a way home?” 

“...I don’t know.” He glanced over to Doc and Mumbo, who were completely absorbed in the disassembled machine, trying to find out how it worked without redstone. “There are some good redtoners on Hermitcraft. Maybe they’ll figure out how to get us back.” 

Grian nodded. He looked at the pizza box, wondering if anyone else wanted the last slice. Deciding he could use his wing as an excuse, he got up and grabbed it. He sat back down. Taking a bite, he nudged Scar. “I bet if we get back, Doc will prank us hard .” 

“And he’d probably use some crazy redstone to do it.” 

Grian grinned. “So we’d better start coming up with some retaliation.” 

Brainstorming was good. It kept his mind off of the situation. They went on for hours, bouncing ideas off of each other. Some were discarded as too cruel or not annoying enough, but they got a decent pile of ideas. He was happy with what they came up with. They lulled into silence, and Grian started listening to Doc’s and Mumbo’s conversation. He couldn’t understand much of it. 

Time seemed to pass slower than usual. Moment after moment dragged on as he waited for something interesting to happen. He flopped down on the bed. “Scar, I would do just about anything to stop being bored right now.” 

Xisuma snorted from across the room. “Drama queen.” 

A sly grin crept onto Scar’s face. “Anything?” 

“Yep.” 

“Would you work on the back of your base?” 

“...Maybe I’m that bored.” Both Grain and Scar started laughing. 

“Grian, you have a problem!” 

“I know! I just can’t!” He dissolved back into giggles. Eventually they faded, and he decided to nap to pass the time. 

Mumbo’s yell jerked him awake. “I’ve got it!” 

Xisuma shushed him. “Shh! Grian is sleeping.” 

“Well, now I’m not.” He sat up. “What’ve you got?” Xisuma grumbled and leaned back in his chair. 

“Lightning!” 

Doc’s eye widened. “Of course!” 

“What about lightning?” Scar asked. 

“The electricity in lighting! They use it to power their machines.” He paused. “That seems inefficient, though. Electricity isn’t infinite. A redstone torch can put out an infinite current, but you would need a constant supply of electricity to power something like this.” 

Doc groaned. “If I build something here, I’m going to get charged, I know it.” 

Grian snickered. “And you won’t be able to explode to get rid of it.” Doc shot him a glare. 

***

With their new understanding of the new technology, Mumbo and Doc pieced together that the machine was supposed to heat up whatever was inside of it. Probably food. Now Mumbo was a bit sad they had taken it apart. 

He decided to try and put it back together, but with the way Doc had cut some of the wires, he was unable to. He still enjoyed the challenge. Even if he started a small fire. 

Chapter Text

Mumbo entered the restaurant, Finger Lickers, that was now his work. Hoping that being early would make a good impression, he walked to the back, where he had been instructed to go. Stoves, countertops, and a fridge lined the walls. Jamie was already there. He gave her a little wave. “Hello! 

“Hey Mumbo!” She looked him up and down. “Is that the same suit as yesterday?” 

He looked down at himself. “Is it that obvious?” 

“Yes, yes it is.” 

Shrugging, he said “Well, it's the only one I have at the moment. The rest are back home.” 

“So you came to America, looking for a job, with no money and only one change of clothes.” 

“Uhmm… yes?” he said, desperately wishing she would believe him, although it wasn’t likely. He didn’t even know what ‘America’ was. 

She examined him again. “Are you running from someone? That’s a really nice suit, so you either have decent money or you stole it.” 

To his relief, Haily, the person who interviewed him yesterday, came up to them. “Enough chatting. We have customers to feed.” She turned to Jamie. “Show him around, will you?” 

“Sure thing.” She pulled Mumbo over to a wall where aprons were hanging. “Here, put this on. Wouldn’t want to get that only suit of yours dirty.” 

Mumbo nodded and put it on. She started to show him around the kitchen, introducing him to his new co-workers. He spent the first hour just shadowing Jamie, learning how they did things. Then he got to actually start working. 

It was nice at first; he enjoyed cooking. But he quickly got stressed. There were so many people wanting food that the waiting list was perpetually a few dishes long. If he rushed, he could get more done, and the list would shrink, but it would be poor quality and he would get things wrong. If he took his time, the food would be good, but the list would get longer, making his anxiety spike. He found a spot in the middle where he felt relatively comfortable, and stuck there for the rest of the day. 

When he left, he was both physically and mentally exhausted. At least he had cash. He wandered up to Jamie. “Where’s the nearest place where I can buy food?” 

“There’s a place a few doors down that way,” she pointed, “but the food is way cheaper if you go to the place at the end of the block.” 

“Thanks!” 

***

She walked into her apartment. “I’m home.” Jamie dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes, and flopped down on the couch. 

Simon came out of his room and sat down next to her. “How was today?” 

“Busy. I also have a new co-worker who’s really weird.” 

Simon’s shoulders tensed. “Weird how?” 

“No no, not like that. He’s just strange. Other than that he’s nice.” 

He slumped back, relieved. “Good. If he hurt my favorite sister…” 

“I’m your only sister.” 

He snickered. “What’s so strange about him?” 

“Whenever I ask anything about him, he gets all weird and awkward. He looks at technology like it's some sort of puzzle to him, despite claiming to go to school for engineering. Also, he came to America with only one suit.” 

He shrugged. “Well, I only have one suit.” 

“No, like, just the suit. No other clothes.” 

A surprised expression flitted across Simon’s face. “And where’s he from?” 

Chapter Text

“It’s been three days, and only the tall one with the mustache has been spotted again.” He pulled up a picture from a traffic cam. “Apparently goes by ‘Mumbo Jumbo.’” 

His supervisor’s eyebrows raised, but she composed herself. “Any address?” 

He pulled out files labeled ‘Case 347.’  “He goes back to a certain Motel every day, so probably there. We couldn’t find any payments, so he somehow convinced the staff to let him stay for free. He doesn’t have a bank account, phone number, or any trace past a few days ago. Like he appeared out of nowhere. He has a job at Finger Lickers. All he ever wears is a suit, and he has a British accent.” 

“Worth investigating. Gather a team, we should search his room before he gets back.” She straightened her uniform. “I’ll find someone to wipe the internet of those pictures.” 

He nodded, and exited the room. He navigated the twisting maze of corridors, pulling out a keycard to open a door. People armed with guns and bulletproof vests looked up to greet him. “We’re going to search a Motel. Who’s ready to go?” 

All twelve of them raised their hands. He ended up picking seven of them, as they could only fit eight people in a single vehicle, and he only had authorization for one. The ride there was uneventful. That changed when they broke down the door. 

Four people were inside. One looked like a normal human, except for his eyes. They were just a little too blue to be natural. One had red macaw wings attached to his back, with one of them bandaged tightly. One was dressed in what looked like a black space suit. But his attention was drawn to the man with soft green fur and a mechanical arm and eye. He was wearing a dirty lab coat with no shirt underneath. He smiled. He had suspected that the rest would be in hiding. 

All four of them started panicking. The man in the lab coat took a swing at one of his team members, his metal hand connecting with his head. There was a crunch, and blood spurted to the ground as the skull shattered. He fired a tranquilizer dart at that one first, watching as lab coat man flinched at the dart in his neck. He pulled it out, an oh crap expression making its way into his face, before he staggered and fell to the ground. 

Space suit man tried to calm the other two. He could hear him mummering softly to them, and to his surprise, the two seemed to somewhat calm down. They huddled in the other corner of the room, staring at him and his team. 

***

Mumbo flipped the burger he was frying. It sizzled on the hot pan. He waited a minute, then placed it on a bun with lettuce and tomato. He sighed in relief; it was the last order of his shift. He could go home now. 

Before he left, Jamie stopped him. “You should get another outfit. Your suit is nice, but it’s getting worn down.” She wrote something down on a piece of paper. “Here’s an address.” 

He took it. “Thanks!” He stored it in his inventory for later. 

She blinked at his hand. “Woah! Where did it go? Are you a magician?” 

“...What?” 

“The paper. Where is it?” 

“I just stashed it in my inventory.” He summoned it out, the paper appearing in his hand. “There’s nothing magic about it. I have a few friends who are magic, but I’m not.” 

She stared. Just as it was getting awkward, she said “Like, actual magic?” He nodded. “Then how did you make the paper disappear if you're not magical?” 

“I just… used my inventory. Everyone has one.” 

She shook her head. “No, we don’t. Where are you from?” 

Oh. This was bad. Xisuma had told him not to tell anyone they were from another server. “I- um- well- I think you should talk to X about that.” 

Jamie frowned. “Who’s X?” 

“He’s…” He remembered this server didn’t have Admins. “kind of our leader.” 

Chapter Text

Mumbo stopped half a block away from the motel. There was a person waiting at the door to his room. He ducked in an alleyway. 

Jamie followed him. “What?” 

“See that person?” He pointed, and she nodded. “I don’t know them.” 

“Is that your room?” 

“Yep.” He snuck another look at the person, grateful they hadn’t been spotted. The person kept glancing around, like he was looking for something. Me. He realized. “He’s looking for me.” 

“What did you do?” Suspicion was thick in her voice. 

“Nothing bad.” The Hermits wouldn’t make someone stand outside like that. They were either trapped inside or taken away. He doubted they were trapped inside. The motel had a window in the back, so it was hardly secure. “We can’t go in there.” 

She frowned. “Then how am I supposed to talk to this X person?” 

“...I don’t know.” His eyes widened. “How am I supposed to talk to him? Oh crumbs.” He pulled at his sleeves, feeling dread well up inside him. 

***

Xisuma paced in the cell he had been placed in. There was a bed and an adjacent bathroom. He had been separated from the other Hermits, but he assumed they were in similar places. He once again tried to find a way out, but there wasn’t a door handle on this side, effectively locking him in. 

Anger gnawed at him. How dare they separate him from his Hermits. He wasn’t usually an angry or violent person, but separating them wasn’t okay. When they tried to take the Hermits apart, he had fought back with everything he had. It didn’t do much, seeing as he was never very good at PVP, so they were able to drag him away anyway. What were these people doing to them? Xisuma felt sick at the thought of someone hurting any of his Hermits. His family. 

He glanced down at the bright orange outfit they had given him. There was a patch sewn into the left shoulder that said ‘347-2.’ What did 347-2 mean? 

***

“Keep your filthy hands off my wing!” Grian squawked. He kicked out, just barely missing the other person. The person was named Dr. Young, according to the nametag on her shirt. He was in a room that stunk of disinfectant, sitting on a bed that had paper on it. 

“Sir, calm down. I just want to set it properly.” 

“It is set!” He flared his good wing to make himself look bigger. He didn’t trust any of these people anywhere near his wings. Only people who were a part of his flock were allowed to touch them. The Hermits were his flock, not these people who had separated them. 

“Alright, but I still want to check that it’s healing correctly.” She tried to move close again, but he slashed at her, his talons coming dangerously close to her face. She sighed, and exited the room. He let out a self-satisfied smile, thinking he had won. 

His smile faded when the door opened again, and this time she had four more people with her. They advanced on him, grabbing at his limbs, trying to hold him in place. He clawed at them, but they had some sort of armored clothing. He used his good wing to smack one of them in the face before someone grabbed that, too. He struggled, but they had pinned him down against the bed, and he couldn’t move. 

Dr. Young moved around to the other side of the bed, so she was behind him. He panicked slightly; he couldn’t see her and she was about to touch his bad wing. He put all of his energy into freeing his good wing, feeling some satisfaction as it snapped free. He heard an “Oof!” as it connected with her stomach. 

He flapped it around wildly, trying to make the others loosen their holds. They didn’t. What did happen was that a sixth person entered the room and helped to pin down his wing again. He kept trying to fight back, but they were holding him too tightly. 

Chapter Text

Doc slowly awoke in a place he wasn’t familiar with. It was a small room with only a bed and a bathroom connected to it. His precious, redstone-stained lab coat was gone. In its place was a shirt and pants that was an almost eyeball scorching shade of orange. The numbers ‘347-4’ were stitched into the shoulder. Doc gumbled at needing to wear a shirt. 

He got up, and walked over to the door. It was a fairly useless door, as it didn’t have a handle. What kind of door didn’t have a handle? He spotted a part of the wall that was sticking out a bit, with a slit through it. A keycard-activated door. He could work with that. 

He dug his fingers into the edge of the slot, and as quietly as he could, he tore off the protective metal. He studied the machinery inside. After a minute, he pinched a few wires, breaking them. The door slid open. 

He was about to walk out of the room when a guard blocked his path. “Back away from the door.” The guard pointed a metal stick at him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was probably a weapon, so he complied. For now. He had no intention of dying in hardcore. 

He leaned against the far wall, listening to the guard speak into a little black box. “347-4 messed with the keycard lock on his side of the door. The door isn’t closing. Permission to bring him to a new cell?” 

The box told him to wait for backup. Two more people showed up, and they led him to another, identical room. The guard turned to him. “Don’t mess with the door this time. We’ll be outside.” 

“Of course.” He gave the man his most innocent smile, showing off his fangs. The guard flinched, and rushed out of the room, clearly trying to make it look like he wasn’t rushing. He got noticeably more relaxed as the door started closing. 

***

“Hello! I’m Mumbo Jumbo.” He reached out to the other man’s hand. 

“Simon.” He shook it. 

Mumbo wasn’t sure what to say next, so an awkward silence filled the air.  

Simon took the initiative. “So, uh- do you want to sit down?” He gestured to the couch. Mumbo did, grateful for the opportunity to sit. He had been standing all day. Jamie and Simon sat on the other end. 

Jamie had agreed to let him stay at her place until he found somewhere else, on the condition that he answer her questions. She had texted Simon on the way there, explaining the situation, saying he worked from home anyways. 

“So, magic.” she said. 

“...What about it?” Mumbo started playing with the edges of his sleeves. 

***

“He was extremely difficult. It took five people to keep him still so I could check his wing.” Dr. Young flipped through her notes. “He was fine for most of it. He even let me take a blood sample, but as soon as I tried to touch his wing he freaked out. I already sent in the blood for analysis.” 

“So he doesn’t like his wings touched.” 

“I think that would be an understatement, ma’am.” 

Her supervisor, Dr. Emerson, sighed. “You have permission to use sedatives next time, if needed.” 

“Thank you.” 

Chapter Text

“No, this piece should go here.” Etho moved the piece to where he thought it should go. 

“Nope. It very clearly goes here.” Tango moved it back. 

“You’re both wrong. See, if we put in either of those places, the current will go here instead of here.” Iskall moved it to an entirely different place. Both Tango and Etho protested. 

“That can’t be right.” 

“Not a chance.” 

Iskall let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, let’s just test it, and if it doesn’t work we’ll move it.” He was met with agreement, so he pressed the button on the machine they were building. It glowed briefly, but then calmed down. 

Tango’s fiery hair flared up in excitement. “It glowed! We’re getting closer!” He high-fived Iskall. 

Etho shook his head. “We didn’t just get closer. I got the server they’re currently on.” He flipped the screen he was holding towards them. Where the server address should have been, there was only the number one. 

“One?” Iskall’s brow furrowed. “That means… they’re on the First World.” The First World was the world that people inhabited before the server system. Before people discovered the code that governed the universe. Even before hybrids existed. Nobody had found a way back to the First World in millenia. 

It probably had something to do with how Mojang had banned experimentation with communicators. And experimentation to replicate communicators. And experimentation with world travel in general. They were the ones to invent communicators, and people started depending on them so much that Mojang became the governing force. If you disobeyed them, they would just disable your communicator, and you would be trapped in the world you were in until you did obey them. 

Mojang was very good at detecting if someone was breaking the rules. Probably because they could spy on players through their communicators, so while the trio were working on the machine, the Hermits left them at home. They couldn’t risk Mojang getting in the way of getting their friends back. 

So they had nothing to go on. Nothing to help them get to the First World. How did Doc even accomplish that? Absolute madman. 

“Okay…” he said, breaking the stunned silence. “So we need to find a way to pull someone out of the First World. No big deal.” 

It was a huge deal. 

***

Pearl gazed out over the landscape. It had been five days since Grian had disappeared. It's not like Evo. It can’t be. She told that to herself over and over, but never really believed it. What if the Watchers took him again? They shouldn’t be able to. Hermitcraft was heavily protected from their influence. 

She swung her legs over the edge of the cliff, settling down to think for a bit. She knew that mulling over it too much would be bad for her mental health, but she didn't really care right now. 

Her stomach growled, demanding food even though she didn’t feel hungry. She knew some people were stress eaters, but she was the opposite. When she was stressed, it felt like she couldn’t eat or she’d throw up. Still, starving herself wouldn’t do Grian any good, so she started chewing on some bread. It tasted like dust in her mouth. She stopped after the first bite. 

The wheeze of a rocket sounded above her. She looked up to see Keralis spiraling down to her. “Hello, sweet face.” 

“Hey Keralis.” She gave him a small wave. 

He sat next to her, and stayed silent for a minute. “Thinking about Brian?” 

“Yeah.” She leaned into him. “I miss him.” 

“I miss them too. Especially Sheshwammy.” Their Admin tended to overwork himself, so Keralis had taken it upon himself to make sure he took care of himself. With Xisuma gone, Evil X had to take on the position. The server had never been buggier. 

“I hope the others find a way to bring them back.” 

“Me too.” 

Chapter Text

“So you’re from another world and your friends are magic.” Jamie said. 

“Yeah, that's the gist of it.” She and Simon stared at him. Mumbo started to feel uncomfortable. “...Do you have any redstone?” 

Jamie blinked. “What’s redstone?” 

Another thing different about this server. Just great. “Nevermind. Do you have anything to make a machine out of?” 

“Do I- no! You can’t just change the subject! You came from another world! That’s insane!” 

“Well, I’d really like to get my friends back, so I have to build a teleporter.” 

Simon’s eyebrows seemed to shoot through the roof. “You can build a teleporter?” 

“I think so. I just have to remember how to do it.” It had been a while since he had to build something like that. Mumbo had left that life behind when he joined Hermitcraft. He went through a mental list of everything he needed, hoping he hadn’t forgotten anything. 

“...How is that even possible?” Jamie’s voice was soft. 

“Oh, it’s quite simple actually. You just have to build a machine so strong that it puts a temporary glitch in the code of the universe, allowing you to activate another machine that takes advantage of that glitch and pulls the intended target to your location, no matter where they are, in any dimension.” He paused. “It doesn’t work if they are in another server, though. You’d need a completely different machine for that.” 

“Hold on. Code? Server!? Like in a video game?” She had the most sceptical look on her face that Mumbo thought he had ever seen. 

“What’s a video game?” 

They looked blankly at each other. She shook her head. “You know what? Nevermind. Just- what do you need to build it?” 

***

Xisuma eyed the person sitting across from him. The tag on her shirt labelled her as Dr. Hernandez. They had dragged him into a room with only a table and two chairs. A small device was sitting between them. He had been informed that it would record their conversation. 

“Could you tell me your name?” 

“Xisuma Void. Just X for short.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Could you spell that for me?” 

Instead of answering, he leaned forward. “Where are my Hermits?” 

“They’re safe.” 

“Good.” If they touched a single hair, fur, or feather on them he would blow this place to smithereens. He didn’t like using his void-given abilities around the Hermits, as they were very explosive, but the Hermits weren’t here right now. He assumed they were in their cells. He had asked the guards repeatedly to see them, but they never let him. If he didn’t see them soon, he would blast open any doors in his way until he found them. He hesitated, then said “X-i-s-u-m-a.” 

“Thank you.” She looked down at her clipboard. “Could you please take off your helmet?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

Xisuma wondered if he should tell her. He decided that he should. It would only hurt him if they tried taking it off themselves. “The air here is too thick for me to breathe. The helmet filters the air so it’s thinner.” 

“Why can’t you breathe the air here?” 

“...I’m a voidwalker.” 

“And what are voidwalkers?” Her face was like stone. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“People native to the Void.” He could already tell that this was going to be a long conversation. 

Chapter Text

“Why are your eyes so blue?” 

Ah, the question Scar had been dreading the whole interrogation. “...What? They’re a normal amount of blue, I think.” Play dumb. Hopefully she would buy it. He hadn’t told anyone here about his Vex abilities, and didn’t plan to. He had no doubt that they would knock him out or drug him or something if they found out about his mind control. 

She wrote something down on her clipboard. “Where are you from?” 

“Hermitcraft.” 

“And where’s that?” 

He then proceeded to recite the server’s entire server address. “...1162.” he finished, proud of himself for actually remembering it. Xisuma had insisted that they all memorize it, just in case. It had finally come in handy. 

She frowned. “What do those numbers mean?” 

He matched her expression. “It’s the server address.” 

“What’s a server address?” 

“Uh-” He didn’t know how to respond. They didn’t know what a server address was? “It’s your server’s… address.” It was pretty self-explanatory. 

“Okay, do you think you could point to it on a map?” 

He shook his head. “It’s another world. It won’t be on your map.” 

A spark of interest lit up her eyes. “How did you get here?” 

“Oh, you’ll have to ask Doc about that. I have no idea how that machine worked.” 

She scribbled something down. “Dr…?” 

“No, just Doc. It’s his name.” 

Surprise flashed across her face. “Could you describe him for me?” 

“Green fur, low voice. Cool cybernetics.” 

***

Simon peeked into the living room, where their new houseguest was working on some crazy device. Mumbo had said it was only in the early stages, but it already looked more complicated than anything he had ever seen. He was mumbling something about copper, but Simon couldn’t make out much. He had absolutely no idea what Mumbo was doing. 

He decided to ask. “Hey, Mumbo?” He waited a few moments. The man just kept working. “Mumbo?” he tried again, louder. 

Mumbo looked up. “Oh, hello.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Making some comparators. It’s a bit different with copper instead of redstone, but it should work.” 

Simon didn’t know what a comparator was, but he guessed it was something engineering related. “Cool.” He just stood there for a second. “Bye.” he said abruptly. He went back to his room and sat down at his desk. He groaned. “My social skills are in shambles.” 

Chapter Text

Doc lounged on the bed. He desperately wanted something to work on. Back home, he always had a few different projects going on. Here, there was nothing. Everything in the room had been carefully inspected to make sure he couldn’t make anything with it. 

He stared at his metal arm. It was probably strong enough to pry the door open. He glanced up at it, wondering how strong it was. He used his mechanical eye to scan around the door, seeing three guards. After he dealt with them, what then? He would have to find the other Hermits as fast as possible and get them out of here. This place had cameras, so they would have to be quick. 

He turned his head, scanning through the wall. Grian was in the cell to his right, and Xisuma and Scar were in cells to his left. He couldn’t find Mumbo anywhere, to his relief. At least Mumbo had avoided capture. He saw some humans come and take Scar out of his scanning range. That wouldn’t do. They all had to escape together. He would have to wait. 

In the meantime, he ripped the front of the shirt open and the sleeves off, to resemble his lab coat. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than wearing a shirt. 

Half an hour later, they brang Scar back. Finally. He focused on Scar, and found nothing wrong with him, thankfully. Now he would have to wait for those people to leave, and he could start breaking out. But they didn’t leave. They started coming towards his cell. He turned off his scanning equipment, to make sure they didn’t notice anything. 

He heard a beep on the other side of the wall, and saw the door slide open. He sat up as the people entered his room. One was carrying a clipboard and pencil, and the other two were holding metal sticks, pointing them at him. Maybe it was a sort of metal crossbow? Or a rocket? Perhaps it was one of those dart launchers that they hit him with when he was first captured? 

His theorizing was cut short when the woman with the clipboard cleared her throat. “Hello. We will be conducting this interview in your cell instead of a proper interview room because of your previous escape attempt.” She eyed his ruined shirt with disappointment. 

“It was barely an attempt. I was building things more complicated than that keycard scanner when I was five.” he gloated. 

Doc saw she was annoyed, but she did a good job of masking it. “That is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. How did you build a machine capable of multiversal travel?” 

“I was trying to upgrade a coffee machine.” he said, careful to keep his face straight. 

She sighed. “Please take this seriously.” 

“Of course. I would never take it any other way.” he said dryly. 

She scribbled something down, visibly agitated. He nearly laughed. She was so easy to annoy. “Are you going to cooperate or not?” 

He was about to answer, but a familiar warping feeling started in his stomach, and light filled his vision. 

***

“Right, now to activate it!” Mumbo exclaimed. 

Jamie wasn’t sure they should be activating the machine in the middle of her living room. What if it exploded and set her apartment on fire? She already paid enough to live here, and she didn’t need a lawsuit from her landlord on top of that. “Are you sure it’s safe?” 

He grinned at her. “Nope!” and pressed the button on top of it. 

“Wait, what?” Simon exclaimed. The machine started whirring, and a flash of light blinded her. When she uncovered her eyes, a man was standing next to the machine. 

Jamie felt the blood drain from her face. He was huge. Mumbo was considered tall, but he was lanky, and she could probably push him over with very little effort. This person was even taller than Mumbo, but also very muscular. He looked strong enough to crush steel with his bare hands. Not to mention his mechanical prosthetics, countless scars, and the ripped up prisoner’s outfit. His fur was the only thing about him that wasn’t intimidating. It looked soft. 

“Doc!” Mumbo went in for a hug. “I missed you.” This was the Doc Mumbo had been talking about? So on top of being a titan of a man, he was also freakishly smart? 

Doc looked around, seeming confused. “Mumbo?” She shivered at how deep his voice was. “Since when do you know how to build a teleporter?” 

“Ah- well, that’s sort of a long story. Tell you when we get back to Hermitcraft?” 

Doc nodded in agreement, before a look of horror came over him. “Mumbo, that was horrible timing! Now the people at that facility place know we can teleport ourselves out! What will happen to Xisuma, Grian, and Scar?” 

“Why do you think I teleported you first? With you helping reprogram it for the others, it will go twice as fast.” 

Chapter Text

When Grian woke up, his bandages were changed. They had touched his wing again. He curled into a ball and hugged his pillow. Tears leaked out of his eyes. He imagined being back in Hermitcraft, where it was safe. 

Pearl was probably worried sick about him. If only he could get her a message, to tell her he was alive. With the way the people here had acted, he didn’t think they wanted him dead. It seemed they just wanted to study him. 

They had tried to ask him questions, but after the first time they touched his wing without permission, he knew they were a threat. He had started attacking them on sight. After a few attempts at communication, they had given up talking to him, resorting to sliding food in as fast as possible and shutting the door again. He had managed to scratch the food-bringers a few times, but nothing serious. They always gave him food that didn’t need dishes so that no one had to come in and grab them. 

Speaking of, the door started to slide open. He lunged at it, but the sedatives were still in his system, so he stumbled to the ground before he got halfway there. The door slid closed before he could get back up. He looked at what they had thrown in. Bread and an apple. 

He took the food back to his makeshift nest and shoved it into the little food store he had made. His feathers ruffled in anger when he found that all the food he had built up was gone. They must have cleaned it out. 

He started pacing around the room, searching every inch for a way out. 

***

Xisuma looked up as Dr. Hernandez entered his room. He eyed her suspiciously. 

Before he could say anything, she leaned forward, getting in his face. “Do all of ‘your Hermits’ have the ability to teleport?” 

None of them could do that, as far as he knew. “No.” He raised an eyebrow, unsure of where she got that idea. 

“Then how did the green one do it?” 

“Doc teleported? How? Where is he?” He felt his heartbeat speed up. Did Doc figure out how to get out of here? If anyone could do it, he could. 

She stood back, pinching the bridge of her nose, looking exasperated. “That’s what we’re trying to ask you. So you didn’t know about this?” 

He shook his head. The black box on her belt went off and started talking, startling him. “347-5 disappeared.” 

She swore and rushed out of the room. He grinned. If what he was guessing was correct, and all the Hermits were 347-something, another Hermit had escaped. 

***

Doc crouched over the almost-reprogramed machine. “I know we said you would tell me when we got back to Hermitcraft, but curiosity is killing me. How do you know how to make a teleporter? They’re very illegal.” 

Mumbo hesitated. “Well, I wasn’t a very lawful person before Hermitcraft.” 

Doc smirked. “Okay, what resistance were you a part of?” 

Mambo’s face went pink. “Whaaat? Resistance? I don’t think I ever mentioned that.” 

“You are a horrible liar.” 

“I know.” He paused. “REAG.” 

Doc’s eyebrows would have shot to the sky if they were disconnected from his forehead. Redstone Engineers Against the Government were notorious for their physics-breaking machines that dealt heavy blows against Mojang, but they were disbanded after many of their top people got caught. “How high up did you rank?” 

“Pretty low. I had only just started there when they went down, but I was there long enough to learn a few things.” 

They worked in silence for a few minutes. “Who knows?” 

“X and Grian. And you now, I guess.” Mumbo made an adjustment to the machine. “How do you know how to make one?” 

“...Guess who was also part of REAG?” 

Mambo’s head shot up.”You were- you were part of it as well?” 

“Mhm. One of the founding members.” That final battle where many of his friends and co-workers were captured had cost him his eye and arm. He just barely escaped with his life, after Mojang had hacked into the server and changed it to hardcore. Unfortunately, the combination of such brutal mutilations and not getting to a respawn server in time had made the injuries permanent. Joke’s on Mojang, his new arm was much stronger than his old one, and his cybernetic eye gave him advantages he never had before. 

When the people from the facility had burst into their motel room, it reminded him too much of when Mojang agents had broken into REAG’s meeting room. 

“...Why am I surprised? You, of all people, would start a resistance.” He laughed. “You and Grian are the most resistance-y people I know.” 

Doc snickered, and made a final tweak in the machine. “Okay, it’s ready. Let’s get Grian out of there.” 

Chapter Text

Grian tensed as he felt a familiar warping feeling. He stood completely still, hoping that if he didn’t flail he wouldn’t break his wing again. After a moment, he was rewarded with the feeling of solid ground under his feet. When the light faded away, he was able to see Mumbo, Doc, a lady he didn’t recognise, and a strange machine in the middle of a living room. 

“Mumbo?” He teared up and fell into Mumbo’s arms. “Mumbo, they touched my wings.” 

They slid to the ground, Grian fully breaking down and sobbing into Mumbo’s shoulder. All of the pent-up emotions from the past few days spilled out. Gentle hands reached around him and started preening his wings. He leaned into the touch, relief flooding into him as parts of his wings that he couldn’t reach by himself were combed through. He felt Doc starting to join in. That was okay. Even if Doc was mad, he was still flock. 

They stayed there for a long time. Grian’s tears slowed and eventually stopped, fading into exhaustion. Tired both emotionally and physically, his eyes started to close. 

“Grian,” Mambo said softly, “you can’t fall asleep sitting on the floor. Let’s get you to the couch.” 

Grian let Mumbo lead him to the couch, where he found a nest. How nice of them. He climbed in, and dragged Mumbo in as well, the moustached man letting out a surprised yelp. 

“I still need to reprogram the teleporter for Xisuma and Scar.” He tried to get out, but Grian grabbed his suit and pulled him back. 

“Stay.” He used his puppy dog eyes that he knew Mumbo couldn’t resist. “Please.” 

Mumbo softened. “Okay. Doc, get in here too. We both need sleep.” Doc grumbled about not needing sleep but complied and got in. 

Having some of his flock with him again made his bird brian very happy. 

***

Jamie had hurried out of the room when the bird-man had started sobbing into Mumbo. Hours had passed, so she crept back into the living room, wondering if there was anything she could get them. Grian had seemed pretty upset. She was met with the sight of Mumbo, Doc, and Grian snuggled up in a nest on the couch. 

It was adorable. She resisted the temptation to take a picture, feeling that they probably wouldn’t appreciate it. They looked fast asleep, so she snuck back to her room, careful to not make any noise. 

***

<cubfan135> Server meeting. Leave your communicators at home. 

<ZombieCleo> proper grammar and punctuation in the chat! must be srs

<PearlescentMoon> ???

<Renthedog> why do we have to leave the coms? 

<TangoTek> tell you when you get here

Pearl joined the other Hermits at spawn. She hoped something had been discovered about the missing Hermits, but she was confused on why they had to leave their communicators at home. 

Etho gestured for quiet. “Before we begin, I want to make sure that nobody has their communicators. If you do, things could get really bad.” After everyone double-checked that they didn’t have them he continued. “As everyone knows, Xisuma, Grian, Scar, Mumbo, and Doc have gone missing, and me, Tango, Iskall, and Cub have been trying to find them. Well, we found them.” Exited murmurs erupted from the Hermits. 

Tango stepped forward. “But we don’t know how to bring them back.” Somewhat less enthused murmurs ensued. “We still want to tell you all what’s going on.” He took a deep breath. “This is going to sound crazy, but hang with me for a bit. They’re in the First World.” 

That got a reaction. The room exploded into questions. 

Chapter Text

Scar stared at the ceiling. This was getting so boring . Almost everything in the room was white. The walls, the sheets on his bed, the sink, everything. What he wouldn’t give for the vibrant colors of Scarland. 

Hopefully someone was feeding Jellie. Who was he kidding, of course someone was feeding Jellie. She would pester someone until they did. It was part of her charm. He thought about running his fingers over her fur. How she would arch her back and purr before demanding more. He desperately wanted to go back to Hermitcraft. 

He would have to be patient. Doc was probably planning to break out, and if Mumbo hadn’t been captured, he was planning to break them out. Probably with some crazy machine. If he caused trouble now, he could ruin any plans they had concocted. 

He plastered a smile on his face as the door opened, mentally preparing himself to be as polite as possible. He had been cozying up to the staff here, and had found out a lot about this place. He planned on finding out even more. 

***

Xisuma blinked away the light, his vision clearing to find himself in an unfamiliar living room. He saw Mumbo, Grian, and Doc, along with two strangers. “Guys? Where is this?” 

“Do you remember when I told you about Jamie? The person who helped me get the job?” Mumbo asked. 

“Yeah?” 

“This is her apartment.” He gestured to the woman he didn’t know. “Jamie, this is X, X, this is Jamie. And that’s her brother Simon.” 

He looked at Jamie with respect. “Hello. Thank you for giving my friends shelter.” 

She pulled him aside where the others couldn’t hear. She had a guarded look to her. “Hi. Mumbo said you were some kind of leader?” 

“I’m the Admin, yes.” 

“Is this a cult? Mumbo is a very nice person, and if you are-” 

“No, it's not a cult. It’s the farthest thing from it. Hermitcraft is a safe space. Anyone is free to their own religion and anyone can leave whenever they want.” 

She studied him before relaxing slightly. “Good. I would have punted you to the moon if it was.” 

He believed her. She had a fierceness to her that reminded him of False. “Again, thank you for giving my friends shelter. It would tear me apart if something happened to them.” 

She seemed to relax slightly. “Anytime.” She started back toward the rest, but looked back. “What does an Admin do?” 

“Server upkeep. I make sure bugs are fixed as soon as possible. Some Admins are the supreme power on their servers, but on Hermitcraft we do everything by vote.” 

***

When Mumbo had started talking about servers and code, Jamie had thought he was crazy. Then she remembered he had mentioned a leader, and she was scared that this kind, funny man had been sucked into a cult. 

But then the machine he made worked, and everything she thought she knew about the universe had been flipped on its head. So she had to make sure that it wasn’t a cult, because she started to believe him. 

She eyed the Hermits knowing that they would be bringing the last one here soon. She couldn’t remember their name, so she asked. 

It was Scar, who apparently dies a lot. Dies a lot. Apparently, in their world, death wasn’t permanent. What kind of crazy place was Hermitcraft? 

Thoughts about the nature of the universe swirled around in her head as she fell asleep, bleeding into her dreams. 

She woke up to the Hermits talking loudly in the living room. Checking her clock, she discovered it was one in the morning. What could they possibly be doing at one in the morning? She dragged herself out of bed and walked out into the hall, peeking into the living room. 

She was met with piercing blue eyes.

Chapter Text

Simon opened the fridge, finding it completely empty. He sighed. The consequences of having seven people in the house. He took out his phone, found the cheapest pizza place in the area, and clicked on a large. He hesitated before ordering. Better get three. He added two more, making them all cheese because he didn’t know what toppings the Hermits liked. 

“What are you doing?” 

He jumped as a voice sounded right behind him. Grian was leaning over his shoulder, staring at his phone. How did Grian even sneak up on him like that? “Ordering pizza.” 

“What kind? Not vegetables I hope?” 

“Just cheese. I wasn’t sure what everyone likes.” 

Grian shot a concerned look at the refrigerator. “Is the fridge empty?” 

He nodded. “We have some ranch, but that’s it. Not exactly fit for a meal.” 

“Ranch is perfectly edible.” Grian stated. 

“...What?” 

In response, Grian opened the fridge, unscrewed the top of the ranch, and took a sip. “See? Perfectly edible.” 

Simon just gawked. Grian snickered at him, put the bottle back in the fridge, and walked back into the living room. Simon took the bottle out and opened it to make sure that it was actually ranch that Grian just ate. It was. What? 

***

“I just ate ranch.” He said as he approached Mumbo. 

Mumbo glanced up from the machine he was working on. “On?” 

“Nothing. I just ate it.” 

“...Why?” 

Grian grinned. “I just wanted to freak out Simon. He ordered pizza by the way. What are you working on?” 

“We’re trying to replicate the machine that brought us here, so it can take us home.” 

“Oo, can I poke at it?” 

Doc broke in. “Absolutely not! Keep those talons away from my machine, you pesky bird!” 

 
Grian giggled and retreated to the nest, where he could bother Xisuma and Scar. 

***

He looked down at his device, and back up to the apartment complex his squad was standing in front of. “This is the place.” The tracking chip they had placed in 347-3 was working perfectly. It was small enough for him to swallow in his food unnoticed. It only worked for a short time, since it would pass through his system in a day or so, but a short time was enough to get a fix on his  location. 

They entered the building, weaving through the halls and going up a flight of stairs. They stopped in front of a door. He turned back to his task force. “Block off any windows or exits they could use to escape. Use the darts if they try to resist.” 

They nodded, and he kicked open the door. “Freeze! Hands where I can see them!” He tracked his dart gun on 347-4, knowing how much damage he could do with that metal fist of his. 

347-2 stood up from the couch. “Hermits, get in the back rooms. I’ll deal with this.” The Hermits obeyed without question, rushing into the hallway behind them. 347-2 walked towards them, helmet glinting in the morning rays. “So, you’re here to take us back?” 

Instead of answering, he pointed his dart gun at him. “Hands up!” 

Through the visor, he saw 347-2’s eyes crinkle with a smirk. “Oh, absolutely.” He raised his hands in front of him, purple energy crackling along his arms. The sound of an explosion made his ears ring as he was flung against the wall, feeling his bones snap against it. The air was uncomfortably hot against his already scorched skin. 

Purple flames came into his view, coming towards him at a rapid pace. He tried to get away, but his shattered bones refused to cooperate. He watched in horror as the fire came closer and closer to him. He shrieked as they licked at his skin, engulfing his entire body in dancing purple light. Thrashing around, trying to get away, put out the fire, anything, the only thing he could think of was pain. 

The last thing he saw was that helmeted man, standing unaffected in the flames, smirking down at him, at his agony, at his demise. 

“No one threatens my Hermits.” 

Chapter Text

Jamie was woken to the sound of an explosion, so close her ears rang for a few seconds. She rushed out of her room, right into a cluster of Hermits. “What was that?” 

“That was X.” Scar replied. “Some agents from PIL broke in your door and tried to capture us again. He was protecting us.” 

“But with an explosion? My landlord will kill me!” She paused. “PIL? What’s that?” 

Xisuma came around the corner. “He can explain later. Right now we have to run. We have no idea if they have more agents coming.” Without waiting for an answer, Xisuma charged back into the living room. The Hermits immediately followed, and after a second, she did too. 

It was a disaster. The living room was destroyed. She spotted the corpses of the agents, busted and burned. There were bodies in her apartment. She was going to prison for sure. What jury would believe her when she told them that no, she did not kill those people, it was actually a voidwalker from another world with some crazy explosive superpower? She was ruined. 

She grabbed Simon’s arm, who was staring numbly at the corpses, and pulled him after the Hermits, who were fleeing the building. She knew that running from the police was a crime, but she didn’t care at the moment. If they stayed, they would be in prison for life. Their only option for freedom was to follow the Hermits back to where they came from. What was it called again? Hermitcraft? 

She was going to chew Mumbo out the first chance she got. She hated him for getting her and her little brother wrapped up into this. Simon was fragile. He didn’t deal with stress well, and she had practically raised him, since their parents didn’t give two craps about them. She looked back as she ran, seeing Simon’s wide and scared eyes. Oh, she wasn’t just going to chew Mumbo out, she was going to hit him over the head with a book. Hardcover. 

The streetlamps flashed past, and her chest and legs started to burn. She lost track of how far they ran. She saw Xisuma turn into an abandoned building. They slowed to a stop inside. She put her hands on her knees, panting hard. Simon was in a similar state, she noted. 

Xisuma waited for everyone to catch their breath before talking. “So. This is a bit of a sticky situation.” 

“A bit?” Everyone turned to her. “Some secret branch of the government is after us. We just ran from them, which is a crime. I harbored people that the government is after, which is also a crime. Then, the people I harbored just killed people! Maybe people can come back from death in your world, but here they can’t! That was murder! Also a crime! Now I’m standing in an abandoned building in my pajamas with five aliens that are actively being hunted down!” She turned to Mumbo. “You sucked us into this. And I hate you for it. But you know the worst part? We have to come with you to Hermitcraft, because the USA will never be safe for us again. This is more than a sticky situation. This is if rock bottom had a basement.” 

There was a moment of silence. Mumbo stepped forward. “I’m sorry.” He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. 

She batted his hand away. “It can’t be undone. We just need to get to Hermitcraft.” She eyed Xisuma. “I assume it’s safe there?” 

“Yes. I put up countless protections around it.” 

“Good.” She found an old barrel to sit on and buried her head in her hands. Simon sat down beside her, and they leaned into each other, taking comfort in each other’s presence. 

***

“Scar, what is PIL?” Grian asked. 

“The people that had us in the facility. It stands for Paranormal Investigation Laboratories.” Scar grinned, pleased with himself for 

“Oh.” He studied Scar. “How do you know?” 

“I cozied up to them. You can learn a lot from a well-placed question and a little bit of mind reading.” Scar frowned at that last part. 

“Does it bother you?” Simon asked. 

“Does what bother me?” 

“Mind reading.” Scar had told both Jamie and Simon about his Vex-like abilities soon after he met them, and after many explanations and promises to never use it on them, they had reluctantly agreed to trust him. For now. 

He thought about how much to tell them. Mind reading awoke less of the Vex part of himself than mind control did, but not even Xisuma knew about how his powers affected him. He decided to answer from a moral standpoint. 

“A little. It feels like a huge intrusion to people’s privacy, but in some circumstances -like this- it can’t be helped. I needed to get that information out of them to give us the best chance of getting home.” 

Xisuma spoke up. “Could you summarise what else  you learned?” 

Chapter Text

“Why do they want to capture us?” Simon asked, visibly nervous. 

Scar waved his hand in the air nonchalantly. “Oh, something about keeping the anomalous out of the public’s eye and maintaining order.” 

Grian soured. “Sounds like hybridism to me.” Doc nodded in agreement. 

“Another interesting thing I learned,” Scar’s eyes glowed brighter in excitement, “is that there is a rebel group, directly opposing PIL, called Convive.” 

“That sounds promising.” Doc rumbled. He was no stranger to rebellions, and this one seemed likely to help them. 

“Yeah. Their whole goal is that they want humans and the supernatural to live together, in harmony. In a world like this, it seems unlikely to happen, but who knows? Maybe they’ll succeed. Whether they do or not, they’ll probably help us.” 

“We have to find them before PIL finds us .” Xisuma stated. 

Scar nodded. “I’ve been inside PIL’s minds. They’re smart. This isn’t that far away from the apartment, and abandoned buildings are the first place they will be looking for us to hide.” 

“Well, we can’t really go anywhere without them knowing.” Jamie shifted on her barrel, trying to get comfortable. Her eyes were hard with anger. Doc studied her. She was a fierce one. “There are security cameras everywhere in Vegas. They probably have access to them.” 

“That’s taken care of.” Doc said. “I hacked into all the cameras in the city. They’re disabled, for now.” It had been frighteningly easy to hack into the first camera, and from there he found a network of connections. Videos and messages and music were being sent everywhere, all the time. He learned that it was called the ‘internet,’ and it was simple to cut it off from all of the cameras in the area. Some people had found a way to fix it, but when they did that, he just disabled them again. It was hilarious to see their frustrated expressions through their computers. 

Of course, then there were the people who saw them when they were fleeing the apartment, and thought it was a good idea to post about it online. He took those posts down as soon as he saw them, but he couldn’t keep it up forever. He would have to sleep sometime. 

He loved his mechanical eye. With it being directly connected to his brain, he could connect to whatever machines were in the area. He couldn’t have done any of that without it. 

“Even though the cameras are out, we aren't exactly inconspicuous.” Grian said. “And the orange jumpsuits aren’t doing us any favors.” 

Xisuma sighed. “I suppose that’s what they’re for.” Doc nodded. The bright color made them easier to spot than they already were. 

“What, so we’re stuck? They’ll find us?” Simon’s eyes were wide with fear, and his breathing was getting faster. Jamie turned his head towards her, murmuring to him until he calmed down. 

“Not if you come with me.” A new voice. Doc whipped around, his eyes landing on a woman he didn’t recognise. He tensed, preparing to attack her. 

Xisuma’s hand rested on his arm. The message was clear. He stepped back, making it known that he wouldn’t attack her until Xisuma told him to, or she tried something. Xisuma stepped forward, planting himself between her and Doc. She relaxed a bit. 

“Who are you, and why would we come with you?” Xisuma questioned. 

“I’m Mavery. I’m from Convive.” 

Xisuma eyed her suspiciously. “Can you prove it?” She dug around in her pockets, pulling out a card. Xisuma took it, examining the writing on it. 

Doc leaned over Xisuma’s shoulder to see as well. It certainly looked official. But that didn’t mean anything. “You could have stolen it. Or foraged it.” he growled. 

“I didn’t. I don’t know how to prove that to you. But if you stay here and do nothing, PIL will find you. I have a vehicle outside with tinted windows that could get us to safety, but only if we go now. The longer we wait, the closer PIL gets.” 

Xisuma thought about it for a moment. He turned to the Hermits, Jamie, and Simon. “I think we’ll have to risk it.” 

Chapter Text

Grian hissed in pain as the van started up, the vibrations sending waves of pain from his wing all the way down his spine. He felt the fractured grating against itself, and let out a small whine of pain. He detected Mumbo sending him a concerned look, so he tried to stay quiet, not wanting to worry him. 

He turned his attention to looking out the window, trying to distract himself from his wing. He watched as they passed the people on the sidewalks. To entertain himself, he started noting what kind of pants people were wearing. Jeans. Yoga pants. Shorts. Jeans again. He quickly got bored of that. 

He started idly preening his good wing, picking out the dust from the abandoned building and pulling loose feathers. He wished he could preen his other wing, as it was starting to itch, but he knew he shouldn’t touch it for now. Eyeing the bandages, he begrudgingly admitted that PIL had done a better job binding it than his friends originally had. PIL had gotten him a proper doctor, it seemed. At least one good thing came of them. Still, it didn’t excuse how they touched his wing without permission. 

The van ride was really starting to make his wing throb now. “How much farther?” 

“The closest Convive location is just outside the city.” Mavery called from the front of the van. “About fifteen more minutes.” Grian stifled a groan. They had only been driving for three, and his wing was already hurting like he dipped it in acid. Fifteen more sounded like agony. The mad dash from the apartment hadn’t done him any favors either. 

The bumps in the road were making his wing worse, he was sure of it, especially when they got to more rural roads that were made of rocks and gravel. 

Sure enough, by the time they got there, his wing felt like it was on fire. As he stepped out of the van and onto the ground, he fought against a wave of nausea and dizziness. He grabbed Mumbo’s arm to stabilize himself. 

“Grian? Are you alright?” Mumbo asked in an anxious tone. 

Crap. Worrying Mumbo was exactly what he was trying to avoid. “Just a bit dizzy from getting up too fast. I’m fine.” 

“You’re not fine.” Mumbo insisted. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Grian didn’t have the energy to fight Mumbo on this right now. “The van was jostling my wing around. I’ll be fine in a minute.” 

Mumbo squinted his eyes at Grian. “...Are you sure? You’re pale as the moon.” 

The pain was getting to be overwhelming, and the edges of his vision were getting hazy. He needed to sit. Or, even better, lay down. “Just help me get inside.” 

Mumbo nodded. Grian was still unstable on his feet, so Mumbo slung Grian’s arm over his shoulder, helping him to follow Mavery. The rest of the Hermits were casting worried looks at him that he did not appreciate. The last thing he wanted to do was put more stress on the others. 

They walked into what looked to be a medium-sized house in a rural area. How could this be a secret rebellion base of operations? They made their way over to a normal looking closet that opened up to an elevator. Oh, Grian thought, that’s clever. Mavery pressed a button labeled ‘-12’, and they descended for what felt like an eternity. 

Another wave of dizziness came over him, and he lowered himself to the ground. Mumbo was talking loudly in his face. “Grian? Are you okay?” Why did Mumbo sound so muffled? 

Then Xisuma was there, also talking to him. “What’s wrong? What can I do?” 

“Hurts.” he managed to groan. Xisuma started talking urgently to Mumbo and Mavery. He stopped listening to what they were saying, his focus instead drawn to his wing, which was pounding, sending lightning bolts of pain all throughout his body. It would be nice to sleep, to get away from it all. 

His eyelids started to drift shut. Mumbo appeared in front of him again. “No, don’t sleep yet, let’s at least get you to a bed first.” 

“But… it hurts so much.” The world was swirling around him. 

“I know. Just a little longer.” 

He hummed in reluctant agreement. He leaned against Mumbo. The elevator dinged as they arrived at their intended floor, the doors sliding open to reveal a long hallway. Doors dotted the length at regular intervals. Not the metal doors like at PIL, but wooden doors with handles. Not a single one had a keyhole on it. 

Mumbo helped him to his feet, now almost fully supporting his weight. The pain was too much; he could barely concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. They made their way to a door and went inside. He saw a bed and summoned the last of his strength to lurch forward, falling onto the comfy surface. It was no nest, but at this point he didn’t care.

Chapter Text

Xisuma watched as Grian collapsed onto the bed. He felt like throwing up with nerves. He knew that it wouldn’t help Grian at all, so he stubbornly swallowed, refusing to vomit. “Doc, could you scan his wing?” 

Doc nodded, and stepped forward. The Hermits waited in tense silence. “The fractures have gotten worse. Especially this one” He poked a spot on Grian’s bandaged wing, who let out a whine of protest. “Sorry. It’s almost fully cracked through now.” 

Xisuma’s helmet informed him that he had accelerated heart rate and breathing. Yes, I know. he thought, and dismissed the notification. He really needed to disable those. It was useful back on Hermitcraft, where there was no real danger, and the most stress he ever came across was when there was a particularly troublesome bug. Here, it could distract him from more important things. 

“Will it heal right?” came a quiet, tired-sounding voice from Grian. Xisuma could barely hear him. 

“Yes, if we leave it alone. You should stay as still as possible for a little while. We don’t want to put more strain on it than necessary.” 

Grian let out a deep breath and buried his head in the pillow. Xisuma felt like his heart might explode with worry. He turned to Mavery. “Is this place safe from PIL?” 

She nodded rapidly. 

“And you’re sure we weren't followed?” he asked. The last thing Grian needed was to be on the run again. 

She nodded again. “I was constantly tracking who was behind us. No one was behind us for more than two blocks at a time. And if they did somehow find us, this building is heavily fortified with hidden weapons.” 

Xisuma fell silent, satisfied with her answer. He finally took the time to look at the rest of the room. Grian was on the bottom of one of the two bunk beds in the room. The walls were painted a pleasant shade of grey, with a darker grey diamond pattern. There was a closet in the corner. It was much better than where they stayed at PIL. Since one room only held four people, Grian, Mumbo, Xisuma, and Doc took one room, and Jamie, Simon, and Scar took the neighbouring one. 

Now Xisuma stared at the dark ceiling, unable to sleep, despite the time of night. Doc had reassured him that Grian was stable, and wouldn’t die suddenly in the middle of the night, but that did little to calm his nerves. What ifs were constantly running though his mind. How could people live comfortably in a hardcore world? The threat of one of his Hermits dying and never coming back haunted his every thought. 

“Would you quit tossing around up there? I can feel it.” Doc whispered from the bed  under him. 

“Sorry.” he whispered back, and tried to lie as still as possible. 

Minutes passed. He was convinced that Doc had fallen back asleep when he spoke up again. “This isn’t your fault, you know.” 

“...I know that.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

The silence of the room enveloped them for a few seconds. “Isn’t it, though? I could have done something-” 

Doc cut him off. “What? What could you have done?” 

Xisuma lacked a response. 

“Exactly.” Doc sighed. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have tried to build a highly illegal and dangerous machine in the middle of a populated server.” Xisuma said nothing. 

“It’s actually mine and Scar’s. We shouldn’t have blown up your tunnel bore.” 

Xisuma jolted upright. “Grian! Did we wake you up? I’m sorry.” 

“You could have summoned the Warden from the Nether with the volume you two are speaking at.” Mumbo’s voice scolded. 

Xisuma realised that he and Doc had gone from whispering to talking at a normal volume. “I’m sorry guys. Everyone go back to sleep.” 

Completely ignoring Xisuma, Grian went on. “I’m sorry Doc. Scar is too.” 

“Come on guys. Let’s go back to bed. Grian, you need to rest.” Xisuma insisted. 

“Well, you wouldn’t have knocked off the safety if I hadn’t built it.” Doc replied. 

“Is anyone listening to me?” Xisuma said, exasperated. 

“Okay, maybe it’s both our faults.” Grian relented. 

“I can agree to that.” 

“Hermits. Go. To. Sleep.”

Chapter Text

Jamie tossed and turned in her bed. Her mind was cast back to when she was in Highschool, to something a certain teacher of hers had told her. Hate comes from love. Back then, she had thought it was a load of horse crap, but now she understood. She loved Simon very much, and Simon was in danger because of him. She helped him and this is how he repaid her? By putting her brother in danger? 

But after witnessing Mumbo being so worried about Grian, her anger had lessened a bit. But only a bit. Was it possible to dislike someone who seemed so caring? She ping-ponged between forgiving him -after all, he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen- and hating his guts. 

Her attention was drawn to Scar, who she could hear flailing around like a drunk octopus in his bed across the room from her and Simon’s bunk. Maybe he couldn’t sleep as well. 

***

Scar worried endlessly about Grian. He had seemed a little off in the van, but he hadn’t suspected his wing was that bad. Scar thought that if Grian was getting worse, the man would tell someone. In retrospect, that was dumb, as Grian had a history of hiding any injury or illness that came his way until it either went away or got too big to hide. Scar should have checked on him. 

Casting out his senses, he felt the life forces of the hermits in the next room. Not reading their minds, he had promised never to do that, but sensing their general status healthwise. Grian’s life force was weaker than Scar would like, but stable for now. He fought against the sudden urge to spill blood. 

“No.” he muttered. “Not today, Vex.” He imagined sinking his fingers into Jellie’s fur, and after a time, his Vex side quieted. He let out a sigh of relief as he no longer wanted to kill someone. He had to stay good. He had to. Shuddering, he remembered the first and only time he had lost control. Thankfully, it was in an infinite respawn server, but it had still been a bloodbath before he had managed to get himself back under control. 

He could still hear their screams. The horror on their faces as they watched their friend turn on them haunted his nightmares, even though it had happened almost twenty years ago now. He had fled that server out of shame, never reconnecting with anyone there. 

He didn’t want to do that with the Hermits. He loved them too much. 

It was so easy on Hermitcraft. He never needed to use his powers there. Longing for his home filled him. Grian would benefit from going home the most out of all of them. They didn’t have any regeneration potions here, but on Hermitcraft, every Hermit had a healthy supply stocked up. The longer Grian went without a health or regeneration potion, the less effect it would have on his wounds when he did get one. 

Lost in thought, he barely noticed the passage of time until Xisuma was next to his bed telling him it was morning and that he should have breakfast with the others. He  dragged himself out of bed -which was weird, because in a normal world, the sun would just kick you out of bed- and followed Xisuma to a room that had lots of tables and other people. Some looked human, but a lot of them didn’t. It was vastly different than what they had seen in the city, where every single person was a human. Scar decided he liked this place already. 

There was a rack in the back of the room with all different kinds of foods, for all different kinds of species. Scar grabbed a plate of bacon and eggs before sitting down next to the other Hermits. He noted that Grian wasn’t there before remembering that Doc had advised that he stay as still as possible for a bit. Grian was probably having breakfast in bed. He picked absentmindedly at his food, not really having the energy to eat it due to not sleeping the night prior. He decided to just store it in his inventory for later. 

As it popped out of this plane of existence, he heard a startled gasp from the next table over. Glancing up, he saw a man with slitted yellow eyes staring at where his food had just been. The man excused himself from the table he was sitting at and slid in next to Scar. 

“Hi! My name’s Evan. What happened to that food?” he said, curiosity strong in his voice. Scar saw fangs flash in his mouth as he talked. 

“I put it in my inventory to eat later. I’m not really hungry right now.” 

“What’s an inventory? Are you new here? What are you? How-” 

Scar interrupted him. “Woah- one question at a time please. As for what an inventory is- it’s a pocket dimension.” 

Mumbo broke in from across from him. “That is grossly oversimplified.” 

“Well, maybe not everyone is a genius like you.” Scar teased, a grin creeping onto his face. “For people like me, pocket dimension is fine.” 

Mumbo chucked at that.

Chapter Text

“So, what are you? You’re obviously new, or I would have heard of an inventory by now.” Evan said, looking at the man with the too-blue eyes. 

“I’m a Vex hybrid. My name’s Scar, by the way.” Scar reached out to shake Evan’s hand, which Evan gladly did. 

“What’s a Vex?” 

Scar frowned. “Do you not have Vexes in this world?” 

Evan was about to answer no, but was distracted by the prospect of another world. “You’re from another world?” His eyes widened with wonder. 

“...Yes.” Scar paused. “Do you know of a way to leave this one?” 

Sympathy tugged at Evan’s heart. “Oh, are you stuck here?” He saw sadness in Scar’s eyes as he nodded. Evan shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know of anything like that.” 

Scar sighed. “I didn’t think so. It’s alright, Mumbo and Doc can probably build us a way out.” 

“Who are they?” 

Scar introduced him to the three other people at his table, who he called the Hermits. “Grian’s still in bed. He has a fractured wing, so he’ll be doing a lot of resting for a while. He’s a parrot hybrid.” He pointed over at two people who were sitting at another table. “That’s Jamie and Simon. They’re coming with us back to Hermitcraft, if we even can get back.” 

“Is Hermitcraft your world?” 

“Yes.” 

“...So why did you come here if you didn’t know if you couldn’t get back?” 

“I built a machine that I shouldn’t have built in a populated server. It went wrong, and we ended up here.” Doc said. 

Evan listened in fascination. “What kind of machine takes you across worlds?” 

***

Pearl flew into Tango’s base, as was her usual routine now, for updates on how the machine was progressing. He looked up and smiled as he came in, giving her a little wave. Today Cub, Etho, and Iskall were all there as well. 

Pearl double checked that her communicator was at home before speaking. “How’s it going?” She heard 

“Slow. We’re getting somewhere, but it’s not anywhere close to pulling someone out of the First World.” Tango explained. 

“But we’re closer than when we started!” Cub reassured as her shoulders dropped. Pearl nodded and wordlessly flew away, tears brimming in her eyes. They had said the same thing yesterday, and the day before. What if Grian never came back? It had been at least a week now, and she had no idea if Grian was okay. What if the First World was hardcore? 

The sound of fireworks came up behind her. Turning her head, she saw Stress flying next to her. It gave her a little comfort. Stress had been a very good friend. She had comforted Pearl to the best of her ability and had made sure that Pearl ate, despite Pearl’s habit of stress-starving. 

She veered toward her base, landing inside and picking up her communicator again. She stuffed it in her pocket before cuddling up back in her nest, fully intending to sulk there for the rest of the day. Stress joined her, and they huddled under the blankets together. 

Her communicator buzzed. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, but she picked it up anyway. 

Dragonzz19 joined the game 

<Dragonzz19> Everyone come to spawn. 

<EvilX> excuse me but who are you? get off this server 

<Dragonzz19> I’m a Mojang representative. 

<EvilX> and i have a server to protect. i dont care who you are, get tf out

<Dragonzz19> We have suspicions of illegal activity. Come to spawn. 

Pearl’s heart jumped to her throat. 

Chapter Text

Pearl looked over at Stress, who was also looking down at her communicator. Looking down at her communicator. 

“Stress, we didn’t go back to your base before this. Did you have it on you…?” 

When Stress looked up at Pearl, her eyes were filled with guilt. “I- I’m so sorry. I forgot to leave it at home.” she whispered. 

Pearl just turned and left for spawn. She didn’t want to deal with that betrayed feeling that she was having right now. Soaring silently through the air, she landed in the spawn, glaring at the stranger that was standing there. Most of the other Hermits were already there, looking worried.  

***

Evan had been very helpful in guiding the Hermits around the Convive base. Mavery would help when she could, but she was busy a lot of the time. He also turned out to be a vampire. 

Almost a week had passed since they had arrived at Convive, and they had  quickly fallen into a routine. Mumbo and Doc would work on the machine to bring them back to Hermitcraft while the others hung around and met the other people around the base. 

Mumbo hummed as he worked on the machine, alone today because Xisuma had insisted that Doc take a break. Hours passed, but he made little progress. They were mostly working off of Doc’s memory, since what was left of their communicators was confiscated by PIL when they were captured. He had nothing to go off of. 

“Ooo, what’s that?” 

Mumbo looked up at the doorway, where a young man was standing. Mumbo noted how pale he was. “It’s a machine that is supposed to get my friends and I back home.” 

“And where’s your home, Mustache?” 

“Hermitcraft. And it’s Mumbo.” 

“Eh. Mumbo, Mustache, same thing. I’m Ozzie.” He sauntered into the room, crouching beside the machine and poking it. 

“Don’t do that!” Mumbo exclaimed, half expecting it to blow up in their faces. 

“Why not?” 

“It could be dangerous.” 

“It’s fine, I’m immortal.” 

Mumbo’s brain blanked. 

Ozzie chuckled. “Dang, did I just give you a stroke? That’s a new one.” 

Mumbo recovered. “Well, you might be immortal, but I’m not.” 

Ozzie snickered. “Allright, Mustache. You’re no fun.” 

“How are you immortal?” 

“I donno. Plenty of people have tried to find out, but no one came up with any answers.” He thought for a moment. “Or if they did, they didn’t share it with me.” 

“...Were you captured by PIL?” 

The confident grin slid off of Ozzie’s face. He tensed, looking uncomfortable. 

Desperate to change the subject, Mumbo asked “So, where are you from?” 

After that, Ozzie got in the habit of watching Mumbo and Doc work. After breakfast, he would follow them back to their room. He was always cracking jokes, in his own sarcastic way. He made the time seem to go faster. When Grian was well enough to join them as well, they got along great. They bounced off each other's jokes well, and used it to their advantage to terrorize Mumbo and Doc. 

Weeks passed. Mumbo and Doc steadily got closer and closer to finishing, and finally they completed it. 

“We’re done!” Doc announced to the Hermits. 

They all immediately perked up, talking excitedly to one another. 

“So, uh- guys?” Jamie asked, getting everyone’s attention. “Simon and I decided that we’re going to stay here.” 

Everyone was silent for a moment, before Mumbo stepped forward. “Is… Is it because you’re mad at me?” 

Jamie shook her head. “No. I’ve done some thinking, and I forgive you. It’s just that we belong in this world, not Hermitcraft.” She paused, looking down at her feet and then back up at him. “If we leave, we’ll probably never see our friends again. If we stay, there’s a chance.” 

Teary-eyed, Mumbo nodded. “Alright. I understand.” He embraced her. “Thank you for helping us.” 

Chapter Text

 The Hermits were leaving. They didn’t know it, but he was too. He was going with them, whether they liked it or not. Poking his head into the room, the Hermits had their backs to the door. Perfect. He watched as one of them pressed the button on the machine. It started whirring and lighting up. 

 Well, now or never! He darted forward, grabbing onto Doc’s arm. Doc flinched in surprise, looking down at him with a slightly panicked expression. 

 “Kid, you can’t come.” Doc tried to shake him off, but he held on tight. 

Ozzie smirked. “I absolutely can.” The light and noise engulfed them, and he was whirling through an ocean of brightness. After a minute, he found himself in a new world. A new world! He looked around, at first excited, but his enthusiasm faded. 

They were surrounded by people, and they did not look friendly. 

***

 There was only one bed. Ozzie and Doc were sharing a cell in a Mojang prison, and there was only one bed. 

 “...Well, I guess we’re sharing it.” 

 “You better not snore, Einstein.” Ozzie snipped.

 As it turned out, it wasn’t Doc who kept Ozzie up, but vice versa. He would talk and flail around in his sleep, constantly waking Doc up and annoying him. 

 Doc was fed up with it. “Would you shut up?” he growled, pushing Ozzie off the bed and onto the floor. He hit the ground with a thud. 

 “-Gah! The heck dude?” He groaned. “That lowkey kinda hurt.” He ripped the blanket off of Doc, burritoing himself in it. 

 “If you shove it down your trachea, you can keep it.” Doc grumbled, not in the mood to deal with an annoying teenager. 

 “What’s a trachea? Speak American.” 

 “America’s where we were before this, right, you little menace?” 

 “Mhm.” 

 Doc threw their pillow at him. 

 “Ack! Return to sender, Коза Доктор!” He threw it right back at Doc. The situation devolved into a pillow fight. 

***

 Xisuma paced around his base, out of his mind with worry. After a short questioning, Mojang had let all the Hermits other than Doc and Ozzie go. They had determined that it was Doc’s fault, and Doc’s fault only, for inventing a rudimentary communicator. As for Ozzie, they had been warned to never speak of him. Probably because he was from the First World. 

 Keralis flew in with Pearl and Grian, and handed Xisuma a bowl of soup. He could tell it was made by Pearl. 

 “Thanks.” he muttered, but set it down and went back to pacing. 

 “X…” Keralis said, “you should eat. We’ll get them back, I’m sure of it, but starving yourself isn’t going to make it go any faster.” 

 “Why should I be eating when our friends are rotting away in a prison? We don’t even know if they’re being fed.” Xisuma’s voice was high with worry and stress. 

 “Doc wouldn’t want you to starve yourself.” Pearl stated with absolute certainty. 

Grian nodded along with her. “Keralis, Pearl, did you leave your communicators at home?” They nodded. “Mumbo can probably build a teleporter to get them out of there.” 

Xisuma shook his head. “No, those only work when you’re in the same server as the thing you’re trying to teleport.” 

“Well, he can probably build something else.” 

Xisuma shook his head again. “They’ll be expecting something like that. Either that, or some kind of prison break. We need to do something they won’t expect.” 

Grian scoffed. “What, like kidnap Notch and hold him for ransom?” 

Xisuma knew Grian was joking, but it sounded just crazy enough that it might work. “...I think that just might be it.” 

Grian looked confused for a moment, but then he brightened, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Oh, X, I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“To save a Hermit, I’ll do anything.” He paused. “But we’ll need help. Do you think Mumbo still has any contacts from REAG?” 

Chapter Text

Xisuma burst into Mumbo’s base. Mumbo jumped, but relaxed when he saw it was Xisuma. “Do you have any friends that were in REAG?”

“I do, but most of them are in prison or in hiding.” Mumbo said. 

“Any will do.” 

“...Why?” Mumbo asked, confused. 

“We’re kidnapping Notch to get Doc and Ozzie back.” 

“We’re- excuse me, what?” That was the most insane idea Mumbo had ever heard from any of the Hermits, and he was neighbors with Grian and Doc.

“You heard me. Can you contact anyone from REAG?” Xisuma insisted.

Mumbo slowly nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Tell me when you’re done.” He flew off. 

Mumbo walked to the room where he kept his communicator. After everything that had happened, most of the Hermits felt uncomfortable keeping it on them. He picked it up, scrolling though his list of contacts. He had to go pretty far back, as he hadn’t talked to anyone from REAG in a long time. He found a groupchat he hadn’t touched in years. 

{redstone bois}

<Mumbo> any of you want to kidnap LOM?

Mumbo used the codename REAG used for Notch. It helped them not get caught while messaging other REAG members on their communicators. LOM stood for Leader Of Mojang.

<SpiralingToOblivion> WHAT

<ThatRav3n> hell yeah

<SpiralingToOblivion> yes but WHAT

<Mumbo> come to Hermitcraft. i’ll have X whitelist you

Mumbo contacted Xisuma, waited a moment, and saw messages pop up on the Hermitcraft chat. 

ThatRav3n joined the game

SpiralingToOblivion joined the game

<FalseSymmetry> you better not be from Mojang

<ThatRav3n> lol no

<SpiralingToOblivion> how dare you

<Mumbo> wait there 

Mumbo grabbed an extra elytra, and flew to spawn. He swooped down and landed next to his old friends, smiling. It was good to see them again. 

Spiral beamed. “Hey, Mumbo! Long time, no see.”’ She strapped on the elytra. 

Raven grinned. “So, we’re kidnaping the big guy, huh? Where do we start?” 

***

“...Do you think they’re going to break us out?” 

Doc looked over at Ozzie, who looked small and scared. “I’m sure they will. It just might take a bit.” Time passed. They had plenty of it, here. “This place is maximum security. I hope they’re not stupid enough to try to break us out directly.” 

“...When I was broken out of PIL, I threw up on the getaway driver.” 

Doc burst out laughing. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” he giggled. “I was also shot on the way out, so there I was covered in puke and blood, and everyone was freaking out. They didn’t know how fast I heal.” he giggled again. 

“Sounds like a nightmare for them.” 

“It was. Oh, their faces.” Ozzie chuckled. “It was priceless.” 

Doc snorted. “I bet it was.” 

Chapter Text

“Okay, so what do we know about Notch’s server?” Xisuma asked. 

Raven snorted. “It’s so heavily protected that no one has ever been able to break into it before. We’d need something really powerful.” 

“Well, Doc was able to get to the First World. We can get into a server.” Spiral said, always the optimist. 

“The First World doesn’t have a firewall. Also, we don’t have Doc.” 

“Well, I’m sure you, me, Mumbo, and whatever other redstoners are on the server can get somewhere close to what Doc could do.” Spiral was only half joking. 

“Doc built a prototype of a communicator.”

“Uh- so how do we break through a firewall?” Xisuma asked, trying to keep the conversation on track. 

“Well, first, we need to know what kind of firewall it is.” Raven sighed. “I’m sure someone knows, but it’s a pretty guarded secret. There have definitely been people who have tried to break in before, so maybe if we can find one of them?”

Xisuma tilted his head. “How do we find one of them?” 

Mumbo cleared his throat. “I- um- I may have some friends who have friends that are connected to the black market.” He mumbled the last bit. 

“Ah, Mumbo, my man!” Raven slung his arm around Mumbo’s shoulder. “ That’s the Mumbo I know.” Mumbo laughed awkwardly. 

Grian giggled. “You know Mumbo, the more I learn about your criminal past, the more I like you.” 

“Well, I wasn’t the one who is participating in it! I just have some friends who I exchange favors with every once in a while.” He turned back to Xisuma. “My point is, there is definitely someone who I could find that’s tried to break into Notch’s server.” 

Grian nodded. “And if that doesn’t work, I could find out.” 

Xisuma puzzled over his words for a moment, coming to a realization. “We’ll try to make sure it doesn’t come to that.” 

Xisuma knew that using his Watcher powers disturbed Grian greatly. It was a painful reminder of what the Watchers had done, and the fact that he was one now. Xisuma wanted to exhaust every other option before resorting to that. 

But if it came down to it, it might be their only way. Xisuma would never force Grian to do it, but if Grian was willing, it could be the key to getting Doc and Ozzie back. 

Raven frowned. “Also, during our time at REAG, we discovered that Notch messed with the code of his own server. Anything we build or bring there could be twisted to our disadvantage.” 

Xisuma sighed. This was sounding harder by the moment. “Is there any way to counteract that?” 

“Not that we know of.” 

“...Alright, then. We’ll just have to be cautious. Mumbo, contact some of your friends and find us someone who knows what kind of firewall Notch’s server has. And make sure they won’t lie. We can’t afford to mess up now.” 

Mumbo nodded, retrieved his communicator from the next room, and started typing into it. Grian looked over his shoulder, grinning at the chance to meet someone from the black market. After a minute, he said “Okay, Carni accepted a meeting with us.” 

“Who’s Carni?” Xisuma asked. 

“She works in the black market. She does mostly pirating, but she sometimes does theft. I know for sure that she was once hired to steal something from Notch. I’m not sure if she succeeded, but she has the best chance of knowing what we need.” 

Xisuma silently celebrated. They were on their way to rescue their Hermits. They just had to survive a meeting with a criminal.

Chapter Text

“So where do we find Carni?” Xisuma asked. They were sitting on top of Mumbo’s vault, watching the sunset, waiting to hear back from her. 

“Uh- she’ll contact me with a time and place. It’s never the same place twice.” Mumbo replied. He fidgeted, nervous. The last time he’d seen her, she’d beaten the crap out of him for pointing out her age. She was only seventeen, and already a prominent figure in the black market. 

“What’s she like?” 

“Uh-” She had a reputation for being ruthless. There were rumors that she grew up on 2b2t. “She’s interesting. Very… strong.” Mumbo could still feel the punches.

Xisuma tilted his head. “Strong? Metaphorically or physically?” 

“Both.” 

“Have you met her?” 

Mumbo shivered. “Yeah. She’s intense.” 

“Surely she can’t be that bad?” 

“Her username is literally Bl00dyCarnival.” he deadpanned. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Intense.” 

They sat there for a while. Mumbo started pacing, needing to move. Xisuma just sat there, waiting for Carni to contact them. Hours dragged by like a slowness potion had hit time itself. Mumbo stared at his communicator impatiently. 

It buzzed. He read the message, grimacing when he saw the place. “It’s on 2b2t.” 

“Can’t you negotiate a different place?” Xisuma sounded anxious. 

“No. She doesn’t work like that. If I try to convince her to do it somewhere else, she’ll think it’s suspicious.” 

“Right. Well- we’ll take False with us.” 

***

“...This isn’t enough food.” Doc commented. The guard just shrugged and closed the door. Doc stared down at the portion of food that was only enough for one person. “...We’ll have to split it.” 

Ozzie let out a soft whine. Doc’s heartstrings tugged so hard they almost hurt. He tore the bread in half and gave Oz the bigger half, despite being three times the size of him. Ozzie looked up at him, eyes wide. “But you’re bigger than me?” 

"You're also younger." 

Ozzie shrugged. “Well, yeah, but it’s fine, I’ve dealt with worse.” 

Doc frowned. Ozzie couldn’t be over seventeen. "...You won't have to, once we get back to Hermitcraft. It's safe there." 

Ozzie hesitated, as if in disbelief, but eventually gave Doc a small smile. 

He smiled back. He was sure that the Hermits were doing something to get them back, but he didn't know what. "So, how are you liking the server system so far?" He joked, knowing that Ozzie hadn’t even seen a proper communicator yet. 

He gave a small giggle. “Dunno, since we’ve been imprisoned. Not as bad as PIL though. And unlike at Convive… well, until you guys showed up. I’m actually getting social interaction and not drawing twenty-four seven.” 

"You like drawing a lot, huh?" 

He nodded. “Won my sketchbook through poker at PIL.” 

“Through poker?” Doc burst out laughing. 

Ozzie giggled. “I was like, ten, so they might’ve been going easy on me.” 

Chapter Text

Mumbo flinched as an explosion sounded next to them. He whipped around, spotting a man behind them. He had a feral grin on his face, and he was holding more TNT. Mumbo bolted, dragging Xisuma and False with him. They continued running, not stopping for anything.

Xisuma was breathing hard. “Is it close, at least?” 

Mumbo shook his head. “A few hundred more blocks. Keep running; it’s not safe to stay in one place too long.” 

Xisuma groaned. False snickered. “You need to get more exercise. All that sitting at your desk has got you out of shape.”

“Because I’m working! I-”

“Work less, then. Let Evil X take over for a bit every day.”

“But he’s horrible at it!” Xisuma protested. 

“Because you don’t let him practice. He’ll get better if you make him do it for a few hours a day.”

Xisuma panted, too out of breath to continue arguing. They ran for a while, eventually coming across a place that looked less destroyed than the other places they’d seen. 

Mumbo saw a building and ran inside. A person with bright yellow hair and a scorpion’s tail was waiting inside. She held a bucket out labeled ‘communicators.’ Mumbo dropped his in, and the other Hermits followed suit. 

She said nothing and gestured for them to follow her. Mumbo checked the coordinates, and confirmed they were at the right place. He followed, Xisuma and False trailing behind him. 

They were led into a dim room. There was a single torch next to the door, casting shadows against the far walls. 

Carni loomed out of the shadows. “Well, hello Mumbo. Long time, no see.” 

If her goal was to intimidate them, she was succeeding. Mumbo felt the hairs on his arms stand up. “Uh- hey, Carni. We- uh-” 

“What’s the matter? Can’t talk? Did I give you a concussion last time that didn’t heal right?” She had a maniacal grin on her face. 

“No. I- well- my brain is fine.” 

“Good. It’s surprisingly difficult to do business with a person who has brain damage.” she said it so casually that Mumbo almost missed the implication. 

Was it getting hot in here? Mumbo fidgeted. “We need information.” 

Carni looked interested. “What kind of information?” 

“What kind of firewall Notch put on his server.” 

She grinned. Her smile seemed more menacing than inviting. “Trying to break into Notch’s server, are you? That’s a pretty serious crime.”

Mumbo nodded and swallowed. 

“Well, you’re in luck. I know what it is.” 

“...What do you want in return?” 

“Some information of yours.” 

“...Alright. What do you want to know?” 

“Why you want this information. Why are you trying to break into Notch’s server? What could possibly warrant something like that? If you get caught, you’d be put away for life. Whatever it is, it must be pretty important.” 

Mumbo looked back at Xisuma. Xisume hesitated, and then nodded permission. “Our friends are in prison. We need to break them out.” 

She looked very interested now. “And what does breaking into Notch’s server have to do with this?” 

“...We want to hold him for ransom.” 

Carni cackled with laughter. “Oh, I love it! I’ll have to see how this goes. Alright, he has a packet filtering firewall and a next-generation firewall. Both of them are pretty accurate.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I have something to get you through the packet filtering firewall. But you’d have to do something else for me to get it.”

Chapter Text

“...What?” Mumbo asked.

“Well, a packet filtering firewall will look at your com. If you try to enter Notch’s world without the communicator of someone who’s whitelisted, you’ll be booted to the hub and arrested for trying to break into Notch’s server. I have a com that will let you in.”


“You do? How did you get it!?” 

“Mumbo Jumbo. Do you really think it’s smart to ask questions like that?” a dangerous note had crept into her voice. 

He shivered, and not from the cold. “Sorry.”

“...Anyway, back to my point. I’ll give it to you if you do two things for me. I want you to smuggle something into the Void, and I want you to blow up a base.”


Xisuma spoke up. Those both sounded like pretty shady things. “What do you want us to take to the Void, and why do you want us to blow up someone’s base?” 

Carni gave him a glare. “Does it matter?” 

“Yes.” 

The yellow haired girl with the scorpion’s tail spoke for the first time. “Can I sting them now?” 

Mumbo completely expected Carni to say yes. Or run Xisuma through with a sword. Instead, after a moment of tense silence, she grinned. It wasn’t a pleasant grin. Mumbo felt goosebumps rise on his arms. 

“...Not now, Lemon.” She turned back to Mumbo. “If you truly want to know, I need to send a message to someone who lives in the void. It’s written in a code that only they and I know, so don’t bother reading it. As for why I want the base destroyed… you’ll have to find out for yourself, although the less you know the safer you’ll be. Not that I really care, but I prefer to have customers that are alive. That way they can come back.” 

Xisuma thought about it for a moment, then said “Okay.”

“Perfect! Wait here.” Carni disappeared back into the shadows. Mumbo heard the sound of an ender pearl, and they were alone with the scorpion girl. The silence dragged on for minutes. Mumbo started fidgeting, and then pacing. What was taking Carni so long? Just as his nerves were starting to creep up on him, he heard an ender pearl again. He stopped pacing. 

“Oh, Mumbo. You could never stand still, could you?” Her voice emanated from the darkness, echoing around the space. She stepped into sight. She was holding an envelope. 

Mumbo played with the cuff of his sleeve. “Is that the message?” 

She gave it to him. “Yes. Please get it to a Watcher called Xelqua.” 

Both Mumbo and Xisuma froze. Xelqua was Grian’s Watcher name, before he had been kicked out. 

Xisuma regained control of himself before Mumbo did. “We can definitely do that.” 

“Good. And here’s the address of the base I want you to destroy.” She handed Mumbo a slip of paper with a server address and coordinates. “Come back to me when it’s done.” 

Mumbo nodded. “...Can we have our coms back?” 

Carni waved her hand dismissively. “On the way out.” 

Lemon led them out, passing out the coms as they left the building. Xisuma waved for them to go back to Hermitcraft. 

xisumavoid joined the game

falsesymmetry joined the game

Mumbo joined the game

<xisumavoid> hey Grian where are you? 

<Grian> my base 

Mumbo flew to Grian’s base, finding the man crafting copper blocks. “Hey, we have something for you. And why are you crafting copper blocks?” 

“Well, Mumbo, I’m going to age them in your base.” 

Mumbo blanked for a second. “You- You’re what? Why? What’s the point of that?” 

Grian broke down in giggles. “That exact reaction.” 

Mumbo couldn’t help it. He started laughing with Grian. Xisuma waited for them to calm down, and then spoke. “Mumbo, give Grian the message, would you?” 

Mumbo nodded and gave Grian the envelope. Grian opened it curiously, but as he read it, his face darkened into a frown. 

Chapter Text

As Grian read the note, his spirits sank. 

Hi, Xelqua! Long time no see. Too long. What happened to our agreement? I’m sure you didn’t forget about it. You’re overdue. 

Mumbo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

“...Nothing. Just- wait a moment.” He took a piece of paper and scribbled a reply in the same code. “Next time you see her, give her this.” Handing the note to Mumbo, he also slipped nine stacks of diamonds with it. 

“Nine stacks of diamonds?” Mumbo questioned. 

“Don’t think too hard about it.” 

“...Alright. Do you want to come blow something up with us? We might need your skills with TNT.” 

“Carni set you up to it, didn’t she?” 

“Yep. You in?” Mumbo elbowed him. “We could use your help.” 

Grian sighed. “Fine. What does she want us to blow up?” 

“A base. This address.” 

As Grian read the address, he said “Mumbo, this is griefing.” 

“...I know. But buildings can be replaced, and people can’t. We need to do this to get our friends back.” 

***

Doc leaned back in their bed. "This is so boring. I hate prison. There's nothing to do." 

Ozzie stretched sleepily. “We can annoy the guard.” 

“You’re a menace. Let’s do it.” 

He giggled happily. “What should we do this time? Re-enact the Emoji Movie ‘n shit?” 

Doc raised an eyebrow curiously. “What’s the Emoji Movie?” 

“A really hated movie. Honestly, it wasn’t too bad, just had one of the worst written plots I’ve ever seen.” 

"Oh. Well, I'm not sure we can act it out if I've never seen it." Doc chuckled. 

Ozzie shrugged. “We can sing loudly?”

Doc smirked. "Sure. What songs do you know? Any lullabies we can sing incredibly off tune?"

Ozzie started singing a lullaby. He purposely sang it off tune, but the parts he got right sounded good. The guard shoots them a glare. She clearly heard them planning to annoy her, and she was doing her best to not let that happen.

Ozzie “…Fine, if that doesn’t work, I’ll be Hatsune Miku!” He started singing even more off pitch, and this time Doc joined him. 

She finally snaps. "Would you two shut up?" 

Ozzie shook his head. “Never.” He made a menacing grin. 

The guard sighed. “I don’t get paid enough for this.” 

“We’ll keep going u-unless you give us food ‘n shit!”

She rolled her eyes. "It's not my decision how much food to give you. I'm just supposed to sit here and make sure you don't escape."

Ozzie just shrugged and started to sing Hole Dwelling by Kikuo. Doc watched, amused. 

She groaned and covered her ears. 

Chapter Text

“Grian, I didn’t know you had ten stacks of TNT stashed.” Xisuma commented. 

Grian snickered. “What did you expect? I literally had a demolition business at one point.” 

“...Fair point. What were you planning on using it for?” 

“Uh- so, anyway, will this be enough?” Grian avoided the question. A nagging started in the back of his head. Grian tried his best not to start trembling in front of Xisuma. He didn’t want Xisuma to worry about him. 

Xisuma gave him an amused look. “I hope so. If not, I’m sure we have the resources to craft more.” 

Grian nodded. “Can we do it tomorrow? I have something I need to do first.” 

“Sure. And get some sleep as well. Don’t stay up all night building.” Xisuma gave him a pat on the back and flew away. Grian snorted. He didn’t need to build. He needed to deal with an unwelcome guest. 

Grian flew up to his nest, diving under the blankets. “Go away. This isn’t the time.” The nagging got worse. His arm twitched without his permission. “No. Not today.” 

When Grian spoke, his voice was now more sinister. Because it wasn’t Grian speaking. “Go back to the Void, and we wouldn’t have to do this.” 

“Shut up. Xelqua, you’re not welcome here.” Grian snapped. 

“By extension, neither are you. Give me control. I can take us back to the Void, where we can be a true Watcher.” 

Grian shook his head. “They kicked me out. I can’t go back. I don’t want to go back anyways.” 

“I can convince them to take us back. It’s where we belong.” 

“It’s where you belong.” 

“Don’t be like that. Wouldn’t it be so much nicer if we could get along? We share a body, after all.” 

“It was my body first. And if I hadn’t tried to get rid of my magic, you wouldn’t exist.” 

“Oh, so you think that because you created me, you can do whatever you want to me? To trap me where I don’t feel comfortable? Some parent you are.” 

“I’m not your parent.” 

“But you created me. You said it yourself.” Xelqua tried to take control of their body. Grian violently twitched as he fought Xelqua off in a battle of wills. 

“Don’t twist my words. I’m not your parent, and if I knew how to kick you out of my body, I would. You’re as cruel as the rest of the Watchers. And creating you was an accident. If I knew trying to separate my magic from me would give it sapience, I wouldn’t have done it.” 

“You hate me that much? I’m hurt.” He didn’t sound hurt. He sounded snarky. 

 Grian ignored the comment. “You’ve been quiet for months now. Why can’t you stay dormant for a little longer?” 

“I’m never dormant. I’m always watching and planning.” 

Grian groaned and curled into a ball, shielding himself from the rest of the world with his wings. “You’re terrible.” 

“What did you expect? I’ve the Watcher side of you given sapience. ” 

“I didn’t expect you at all.” 

Xelqua laughed sarcastically. “Oh no, am I a mistake?” 

Grian scowled. “That’s exactly what you are. You’re cruel and unforgiving and vicious. I would never make something like you by choice.” 

“But you did, and now you have to deal with me.” Xelqua briefly gained control of Grian’s arm and punched him in the face. “Ouch.” he mocked. 

“Stop. You’re not winning this time.” 

Xelqua made a dramatic sigh. “I guess not. Destroying Hermitcraft will have to wait.” 

“You won’t ever do it. I’ll fight you every time.” 

“You’ll give in eventually. With something like immortality, it’s an inevitability.” 

Grian ignored Xelqua and buried his face in his blankets. Why couldn’t Xelqua just leave him alone? 

Chapter Text

Grian woke up to his communicator buzzing. He rubbed his face and picked it up.

<Mumbo> Grian where are you? 

Why did Mumbo want- oh. He had forgotten that they were supposed to blow up a base today. 

<Grian> accidentally slept in. omw 

Grian got out of his nest, did a quick preen, and flew over to Xisuma’s base, where they had decided to meet. He brought his shulker box of TNT and placed it down. Mumbo peeked inside of it. 

“Woah. Grian- that’s a lot.”  

Grian nodded. Usually he would smirk and crack a joke, but Xelqua’s intrusion last night had left him shaken. 

Mumbo made a worried face. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah. Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

Xisuma raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you to get enough sleep?” 

“Nope. You told me to get some sleep. And I did.” he smirked. He didn’t feel like joking, but he could pretend, just so that the other Hermits didn’t worry about him. 

“...I did say that. But you know that’s not what I meant.” 

Grian smiled, and in a sing-songy voice said “Then maybe you should clarify next time.” 

“Oh, I will.” Xisuma chuckled playfully. “Anyway- we should get going.” 

The three left the server. They entered a server that none of them had ever been to before. The spawn was untouched other than a few floating trees that Mumbo cut the rest of the way down because it was annoying him. As they neared the coordinates of the building they were supposed to blow up, they saw more and more signs of habitation. More floating trees. Empty chests in a village. Random towers of dirt and cobblestone. Abandoned dirt shacks. 

Then they got to the actual base. It was a tower of quartz and calcite, and its edges were gilded with extremely polished gold. Grian could see his reflection in it. It had a helm roof made entirely of solid gold. It was a shame he had to help blow it up. The building truly was beautiful. 

They crouched in the foliage and waited until they saw the owner of the tower leave. Grian started planning where the TNT would go. There were ridges where new floors started that he could set the explosives on. The ridges might be too far apart for there to be a chain reaction, so he would have to use a fuse. He wanted to blow it all up in one go; when the first explosion went off, it might draw attention. Grian didn’t want to be around when the resident of this place came back. If they were seen, they could be traced back to Hermitcraft. 

Grian took a stack of TNT and flew up to the highest spots the others couldn’t reach. Mumbo and Xisuma took the lower areas while Grian handled the high parts. He worked quickly, always glancing around to make sure the owner didn’t come back unexpectedly, his heart leaping to his throat at every sound. 

He made a weak chuckle. “I’m horrible at this.” All this sneaking wasn’t his style. He pulled a long coil of fuse out of his inventory and attached it to the highest TNT. He flew down to the next highest ridge, attached it, and so on. When he attached it to the last TNT, he stepped back. 

“You guys get back to Hermitcraft. I’ll take care of lighting it, but that could draw attention. The less of us are here, the better.” 

Mumbo nodded. “Be safe about it.” He used his communicator to leave the server. 

Xisuma hugged him. “Get out of here as soon as you’re done. If you’re injured by the blast, just message me. I’ll come get you.” 

Grian gave a wry smile. “I’ll be fine. You know how good I am with TNT.” 

Xisuma chuckled and left the server. 

Grian sighed and looked at the beautiful building that was now rigged to explode. He gazed sadly at the architecture that would be rubble in a few minutes. Still, it was to get their friends back. Doc, the somewhat unhinged scientist, and Ozzie, the companion he made while at Convive. Just watching Mumbo and Doc work on the machine that would take them home would have been boring, but Ozzie had made the time seem to go faster. 

Doing a bad thing for a good reason. Really, it came down to a simple question- did he value his friends’ freedom more than a stranger’s building and anything inside of it? 

Grian lowered the flint and steel to the fuse. 

Chapter Text

“Wait!” 

Grian looked up. 

Someone was running towards him. “Wait! Please don’t-” 

Grian hesitated, and then backed away from the fuse. He could always light it later. “Hello. Uh- sorry about all this.” he said in a very apologetic tone. 

The person skidded to a stop near him. “What is this? Why are you doing this to my tower?”

“I’m… I’m really sorry about this. I have to.” 

“What do you mean, ‘you have to?’” He looked confused and panicked. 

“...I’m not sure how to explain it in a way that doesn’t get me arrested.” 

He looked confused. “Well, you’re griefing, and that’s a crime anyways.” 

“…True. So, uh, my friends got arrested and we made a deal with Carni to get something to get us through Notch’s firewall. Well- one of them, at least. We still have to work out how to get through the other one.” 

He gave Grian a skeptical face. “Very convincing. You know what, I think you’re just a griefer.” 

Grian sighed. “You can think that if you want. I’d probably think that in your position, too. Listen, I just need to blow up your base-” 

“Are you kidding? No! I’m not letting you do that!” His face flushed with anger. 

“I have to do it to get my friends back!” Grian pulled out his flint and steel. 

“No, you don’t-” He snatched it from Grian. 

“Hey! Give it back!” Grian tried to grab it back. 

The stranger started running, taking Grian’s flint and steel with him. 

“Give it back! That was my grandmother’s!” Grian tore after him. 

He kept running. Taking off with a rocket, he spread his elytra wings. Grian spread his own wings, flapping them against the air with powerful strokes. A few loose feathers fell out of them. 

Grian chased the stranger through the sky, gaining on them. Grian had been flying as soon as his flight feathers grew in at five, but most humans only trust their children with an elytra at fifteen. Grian was the more experienced flier, and it came instinctively to him. Humans have to learn how to fly with an elytra. 

They tried to weave through valleys and rock formations, but Grian kept up. He narrowed the distance between them. “Just give me my flint and steel back!” 

“No. Not if you’re going to blow up my base.” 

Getting even closer, Grian was flying beside them now. “It’s for a good cause.” 

“Breaking into Notch’s server? Yeah, you said. But- say I believe you for a second. How is that going to help break your friends out of prison?” 

“Do you have your com on you?” 

“...Yeah? Why?” 

“Then sorry, I can’t tell you.” The wind blew in a slightly different direction. Grian instinctively adjusted, but the stranger was blown slightly off balance. Grian seized the opportunity and swooped down on him. Grian grabbed the flint and steel. The stranger yelped and scrambled to steal it back, but Grian pumped his wings to propel himself backwards. He righted himself and sped back to the tower. 

The stranger lit a firework to follow him. “No- please-” 

The desperation in the stranger’s voice made Grian’s heartstrings tug. He steeled himself and kept going. “I’m sorry. I really am.” 

“Then don’t do it!” 

“I have to!”

Chapter Text

“No, you don’t! Just please stop, we can figure something out!” The person set off another firework to catch up with Grian. Grian pumped his wings to stay ahead. 

“I’m sorry. I have to.” 

“You keep saying that, but you don’t! You could find another way!” There was desperation in his voice. 

“You don’t understand.” He needed to get his friends back. Currently, the Hermits only had one plan. Doing what Carni wanted. 

“Then explain it to me!” 

Grian sped ahead. Every time this person spoke, his resolve wavered. Morals were getting in the way of freeing his friends. A firework went off behind him. He glanced back and saw the man loading a crossbow. Grian’s breath caught and he sped up even more. 

The crossbow emitted a twang as the first shot was fired. Grian flapped his wings frantically, just barely managing to dodge. Wow, this guy was a good shot. Grian dove, did barrel rolls, and every other maneuver he knew to avoid getting stuck with an arrow. 

The tower came into sight. Grian flew as fast as his wings could take him, putting distance between him and the person with the crossbow. The shots started getting more frequent as the person behind them got more desperate. 

Grian dodged another arrow and landed near the fuse. He smashed his flint and steel together, lighting it. 

“No-” The person lit another firework to catch up to him. 

In that moment of stillness, pain exploded in his back. He screamed and fell over. Trembling, he reached around to feel for the arrow. As soon as his fingers touched it, another flare of pain came from it. Agony came with every breath he took. He fumbled with his communicator. Just as the explosion went off, he left the server. 

His surroundings changed. One moment, he was in the shadow of an exploding tower in the middle of a dark oak forest. The next, he was back in his base. The sight of the floating rocks filled him with relief. He was back in Hermitcraft. His flock would take care of him. 

But he also didn’t want to bother them. 

They didn’t deserve to have to take care of him. He didn’t want to be a burden. 

After a long moment of thought, he braced himself and reached around to his back. He shuddered as he gripped the arrow, waves of pain radiating all over his body as the arrow shifted slightly. 

He had to do this in one go. His hand tightened around the arrow. Bracing himself, he yanked as hard as he possibly could. The scream that echoed through his house was deafening, carrying an incredible amount of agony. 

The world was slowly spinning around Grian as he lay there, stunned from the pain. The wound sent lightning bolts of pain crackling all throughout his body, his nerves screaming. He trembled and tried to stay awake, but his vision was darkening dangerously. 

If he were in a clear state of mind, free of the pain that was currently clouding his head, he would have had the sense to grab a health potion. But he wasn’t, so he didn’t. 

***

Mumbo paced in his base. Grian hadn’t responded to his messages. Mumbo had seen the notification that Grian had joined the game again, but he’d messaged Grian, and nothing came back. Mumbo finally decided to check on Grian. If he was okay, then Mumbo would chew him out for not responding in a situation like this. If he wasn’t, then it was a good thing Mumbo was checking on him. 

Mumbo strapped on his elytra. Leaving Xisuma’s base, he launched into the air with a firework. Wind rushed past him as he made way to Grian’s base. The beautiful landscape passed beneath him, but he paid it no mind. 

After a few minutes of travel, he landed in the entrance of Grian’s base. 

“Grian?” 

He wandered in. Nothing seemed out of place. But then he found Grian. 

“Grian!”

***

Ottum stared at the remains of his tower. He’d spent so much time on it. How dare that person come in here and blow it up? And he’d been trying to be so reasonable! He’d tried negotiating, but it didn’t work. He pulled out his communicator. 

<orange_ottum_leaves> What do you know about a parrot hybrid named Grian?

Chapter Text

Mumbo rushed to Grian’s side, his hands trembling. “G-Grian? What-” He didn’t manage to finish the sentence. Mumbo noticed an arrow lying next to Grian’s hand. “Oh, Grian…” 

Grian lethargically looked up at him. “...’Mbo?”

“Hi, Grian. Where do you keep your health potions?” 

“...Cupboard.” his speech was slurred. 

“Grian, which one?” 

Grian stayed silent for long enough that Mumbo was beginning to question if Grian had passed out from the blood loss. “...Dizzy. Ev’thing spinnin’…” 

“Yeah. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Where are the healing potions?” 

Grian said something so slurred that Mumbo couldn’t make it out.


“Uh- what? I didn’t catch that.” 

Grian stayed silent with a dazed look on his face. Mumbo sighed. He’d have to bring Grian back to his base to take care of him. Mumbo scooped Grian into his arms, Grian making a noise of pain as the movement stretched his wound a little. 

Mumbo’s heart felt like it was about to break in half. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m taking you to my base so you can get a health potion, and then you’ll be much better.” 

Grian didn’t respond, and Mumbo didn’t expect him to. Mumbo took off with a firework, carrying Grian the short distance to Mumbo’s base. Mumbo landed, earning another pained whimper from Grian as the jolt went through them both. 

“Sorry-” Mumbo walked in and set Grian on the couch. He positioned him on his stomach so that Grian wouldn’t have to lay on his wound. Mumbo rummaged through his chests to find a healing potion and some tweezers. 

“...Grian, I’m going to have to check the wound to see if there’s still anything in it before I use the potion. Don’t want anything to get sealed in there.” 

Grian just laid there with that dazed look. Mumbo grimaced, lifted up Grian’s shirt, and gently used the tweezers to see if there was anything still in there. Grian made a groan of pain and tried to pull away. 

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m done now.” he used the most calming voice he had. Thankfully the wound was free of debris, so he didn’t have to dig anything out. 

Grian cried out as Mumbo turned him onto his back and propped him up. Mumbo winced and felt his heart break for Grian. “I’m so sorry. But you have to take the potion.” Mumbo lifted the potion to Grian’s mouth and poured a little in. He didn’t want to make Grian choke by pouring in too much at once. 

Bit by bit, Mumbo got Grian to drink the entire potion. Grian relaxed as he felt the pain go away and his blood replenished. 

“...Grian, you can’t do that.” 

Grian didn’t respond and instead just curled into Mumbo. 

“Please. Ripping an arrow out by yourself isn’t good.” 

“Didn’t want to be a burden.” Grian mumbled. 

Mumbo’s heart wrenched. “You’re never a burden.” 

“But I am.” Grian’s feathers puffed up in distress. 

Mumbo started absent-mindedly preening Grian’s wings. “You’re not. I mean it.” 

Grian sobbed softly into Mumbo’s suit. Mumbo didn’t care at the moment that his suit could be stained from the blood and tears. He was there for Grian, no matter what. And comforting Grian was more important than his suit. 

He drew Grian into a hug. “Listen. You’re never a burden to people who love you. Everyone on Hermitcraft loves you. We’re a big family. And family helps each other when they need it. You should never feel bad about asking one of us for help.” 

Grian hesitated, but then nodded. “...Sorry.” he whispered. “Can we please not tell X about this? You know how worried he’d be.” 

“One condition.” 

“Hm?” 

“You never hesitate to ask me for help. Even if it’s something as small as you can’t reach something. I live thirty seconds away. Come get me, or message me.” 

“...Okay.”

Chapter Text

“Anyways, like I was saying, I feel perfectly fine. I’m not hungry.” 

Doc raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t eaten in too long. Eat.” 

”I’m not hungry.” Ozzie glared at Doc and made a quiet snarl, hoping he’d lay off. His stomach growled loudly. 

Doc wasn’t backing off anytime soon. “Your stomach doesn’t agree.” 

“Fuck my stomach.” 

Well. That was strong language. “Language. And you need to eat. It’s been days.” 

“I’ve gone longer. I’ll be fine.”   Ozzie said dismissively. 

Doc felt a pang in his chest for Ozzie. He was so young, yet had apparently gone for more than a few days without eating. 

“Too bad.” Ozzie gave Doc the finger. 

“Ozzie. Language.” Doc scolded. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Ozzie gave Doc a smug, cocky grin. 

Doc sighed. This kid was something else. 

“What’re you gonna say? Hands?” His smile got wider. 

Doc signed ‘language’ in ASL. 

“...Damn it. That was smart.” 

Doc decided to ignore the language. “We’re getting off topic. You. Need. To. Eat.” 

“I’m. Not. Hungry.” he fired back. 

“Yes you are. Your stomach has been complaining. Loudly.” It had been keeping Doc up. Partly from the sound, and partly from the worry that came after the sound. 

“Well, too bad. I don’t need it as much as you; the absolute worst thing that could happen is that I’d maybe eventually go into a coma.” 

Doc felt another rush of worry. Just because the kid was apparently immortal didn’t mean it was okay to abuse their body like that. “Yes, I know you won’t die. But it’s still very unhealthy.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

Doc hissed, exasperated. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” 

“Because-“ Ozzie froze. 

“Because why?” Doc pressed. If he could find out why he wasn’t eating, he could fix it. Well, he hoped he could. 

“Because I shared food with my sister, and you seem like a decent person, so I might as well.” He paused. “God, even if I seem like an arrogant bitch who doesn’t give a shit about anyone, doesn’t mean I’m actually like that-” 

“First off, language. Second… you have a sister?” Doc said curiously. Ozzie hadn’t mentioned a sister yet. 

He hesitated before answering. “It’s… complicated.” 

“…Alright. Well, you still need to eat.” Doc decided not to push Oz for answers about his sister. He needed Ozzie to eat something. 

Ozzie curled up on their bed, his stomach grumbling loudly. “I don’t want to.” 

For Notch’s sake. It was like trying to get Grian to eat when he was depressed. “If you don’t start eating and taking care of yourself, I’ll… uh…” 

“You’ll what, tell my mommy?” Ozzie rolled his eyes. 

“…I’ll have us separated. Then you’ll have to eat the food they give you, because you’ll have no one to share it with. But you’ll also be alone.” 

Ozzie gaped. “I-” He thought for a second. 

“I’m sure they’ll put us in separate cells if I ask…” 

“Fine.” He crossed his arms and looked away, but his tone revealed a hint of gratitude. 

Doc split the food in half and gave half to Ozzie. 

“Let me do the math-” He paused for a second. “You’re roughly three times my size, so, considering that, you’d have three fourths, so I get one fourth. I’m not taking half.” 

“…As long as you’re eating something.” He felt like this was the best he could hope for at the moment. Maybe he’d get Ozzie to accept more food in days to come. Until then, he’d try to give Ozzie the biggest one fourth he could get away with. 

Chapter Text

Carni spun on her chair, fiddling with her knives. Did she have them all? Yep, she had all fourteen of them. Maybe she should sharpen them soon. “Lemon, do you know if Ottum’s base has been blown up yet? I haven’t checked with our informants for a few days.” 

Lemon nodded, grinning from ear to ear devilishly. 

Carni cackled. The sound rang in the otherwise silent room. "Perfect! I can't wait for Ottum to get so delightfully pissed off at us." 

Her scorpion tail flicked happily in return. 

"...Well, that is, if he can even connect it back to us. Perhaps we should leave a few clues." Carni threw a knife at the wall, hitting her target perfectly. A picture of Notch. 

“…Probably. What, a lock of bright yellow hair and a sign that says, ‘FROM CARNI’?” 

Carni threw another knife. It hit the wall beside the last one. "Oh, but that would be too obvious. We should give him a clue, but something he'll have to work to figure out, don't you think?" 

“Mhm.” Lemon’s bright yellow hair bounced as she nodded. 

She threw another. It landed squarely in the middle of the two knives already sticking out of the wall. "Hm... perhaps a painting of a ferris wheel? In reference to my username, Bl00dyCarnival?" 

“And a lemon?” She paused. “Oooh, we can use the blood of our enemies to paint it!” 

Carni cackled, a morbid glee laced in her voice. "Fun! I love it. Let's do it." 

Lemon put on her mask. She didn’t wear it to hide her face, but rather to tell people she was going on a killing spree. 

She felt her com buzz, so she checked it. "...Do you want to handle this alone, or wait and have me come with you? Apparently the Hermits want to meet with me again... what did I even promise them in return? I have it written down somewhere-" 

“A Mojang com so they can-“ She noted how Carni had a communicator on her. Mojang wouldn’t care about most things they said, but it would definitely pick up on talking about breaking into Notch’s server. “-yeah. And I’m alright with going on my own.”

"Alright! Have fun! Gut a few people for me!" Carni waved and yanked her knives out of the wall. They didn’t go as deep into the wood as she’d hoped. Yeah, she should definitely sharpen them. 

Lemon’s tail flicked happily and she grinned. 

***

Xisuma decided to go alone. 2b2t was a very dangerous place, so he didn’t want any other Hermits to come with him.Asking Mumbo for the new meeting location, he went there immediately. He knew Mumbo and the others wouldn’t be happy with him, but he had to protect them. 

He arrived to a torn up landscape, riddled with holes and destroyed structures. He worked his way over the creeper holes, TNT holes, and holes made from unidentifiable sources. A person yelled, and he turned around, just barely dodging the swing of a sword. 

…Perhaps he should have brought False. 

Xisuma took off running, the person following him at a close distance. They were clearly faster than him, gaining on him at a rapid pace. Xisuma started ducking behind the random structures, using them as cover. When Xisuma moved a split second too late, he felt the blade pierce his leg. He screamed and fell. 

Perhaps it was time for him to start making explosions. Just as he was about to summon the energy needed to create one, he saw someone running up to them. Someone with bright yellow hair. Someone who looked like Carni’s friend. Someone who had a baseball bat. 

Conk. 

The person with the sword fell to the ground, unconscious. 

Xisuma stared at Lemon. "...Wow. Uh- thanks." 

Xisuma flinched as Lemon impaled the unconscious person with her scorpion tail, making a giddy cackle. “Free kill!” she said with an innocent smile. 

Xisuma shuddered. "...Yeah, could you just take me to Carni?" 

She nodded. “Do I have to drag you?” 

"I'll try to walk." He did not want to be carried around by someone who was obviously as off her rails as Carni herself was, maybe even more so. 

She nodded and let him follow her, pulling off her mask so people would know she wasn’t going to make a kill unless directly threatened. 

Xisuma stumbled behind her, forcing himself to walk through the pain. 

Chapter Text

Xisuma stumbled into the building Carni occupied, leaving his communicator outside the door. She was lounging on a couch, sorting through some papers. He cleared his throat. 

Carni made an annoyed scoff. “I know you’re here. Give me a moment, I’m dealing with something.” she snapped. 

The tone of her voice immediately made Xisuma freeze. He didn’t want to make her angry, otherwise she could break off the deal, or worse. He waited as she did… whatever she was doing. Eventually, the pain in his leg was too much, so he sat down. He made a small noise of pain as he did so. 

Without looking up, Carni summoned a health potion from her inventory and tossed it to Xisuma. He caught it. 

“Oh- thanks.” He drank it. The pain in his leg faded, making him sigh in relief and stand back up. 

“Don’t think it’s free.” She finally looked up from her papers. 

Oh. Well, this was a very dangerous situation, being indebted to someone like Carni. He tried to hide his nerves. “Uh- what do you want?” 

“A stack of diamonds.” 

Xisuma sighed in relief. She may have been grossly overpricing it, but at least she wasn’t asking for something too bad. He gave her the diamonds. 

She smirked as she accepted them, as if amused by his momentary internal panic. “Well. I’ve already been informed that you blew up the base, but what about the letter to Xelqua?” 

Xisuma handed it to her, along with the diamonds Grian had supplied. “So… when do we get the communicator?” 

“In a moment.” She read the note Grain had written carefully, frowning slightly. “...Alright, here you go.” She tossed an object at him. It hit his chest before he fumbled to catch it. He looked at the dusty communicator in awe. This little device was going to get one of the Hermits through one of Notch’s firewalls. 

Carni chuckled. “Well, don’t look too happy. You still need to get through the other firewall. It’ll look past the com and actually examine your player code, so I have no idea how to mask your code itself.” 

Xisuma’s face fell. 

“Well, don’t you have a bunch of good redstoners on Hermitcraft? I’m sure they’ll think of something.” Carni tossed her knife in the air. Xisuma’s heart lurched as it flipped back towards her hand, but she caught it safely. 

“Yeah, we do.” Not to mention Spiral and Raven, who were also helping out. 

“Alright then. Off you go.” 

Xisuma stood there, stunned at the sudden dismissal. 

“I said go.” 

Xisuma’s brain finally caught up. As he turned to leave, he saw a picture of Notch hanging next to the door. It had holes and cuts in it. 

“Target practice.” Carni made a menacing grin. 

Xisuma shivered and hurried out the door. He picked up his communicator and went back to Hermitcraft, fully expecting to get an earful from the other Hermits. 

He was right. 

“How could you go alone? That’s so unsafe!” False scolded him. 

“I know it’s unsafe! That’s why I went alone!” 

False narrowed her eyes. “You would have been safer if you had brought me.” 

He crossed his arms. “But you wouldn’t have been.” 

“I’m the best swordsperson we have on this server. What if someone kidnapped you, huh? What then?” she sounded… angry. While he’d heard her angry before, it had never been directed at him. 

“...I-” Xisuma didn’t have an answer for that. He knew, on a server like 2b2t, that it was a possibility. But he didn’t think too much about it. He just wanted to protect his Hermits. 

“You’re bringing me next time.” False said with a stern face and tone. 

“...Fine. I mean- the good news is that I got the com?” 

“You’re impossible.” 

Chapter Text

Grian poked his head in the room where Mumbo, Spiral, and Raven were huddled together. Spare machinery parts were strewn about. Messy blueprints and notes were scattered around the room, only a few having made it to the desk. They were talking about… redstone? It all sounded like gibberish to Grian. 

Grian snuck up behind Mumbo. “Boo.” 

Mumbo made a startled yelp and whipped around. “Grian! You can’t do that!” 

Grian broke down in giggles. “Your face! I should do this more often.” Spiral also laughed. Raven rolled his eyes. 

“No, you really shouldn’t.” Mumbo took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart rate. 

Grian plopped down next to them. “So, Mumbo Jumbolio, what are you working on?” 

Mumbo chuckled at the nickname. “It’s to fool a firewall into thinking that our code matches the com we got.” 

“Oh. How’s it going?” 

Mumbo sighed. “Slow. It won’t be done anytime soon.” 

“But waiting sucks.” Grian groaned. 

Mumbo gave him a playful shove. “Well, maybe you should help out.” 

“Sure.” He smirked. “What can I do?” 

Mumbo immediately realized that that was a very bad suggestion. “Uh… sit in the corner and give moral support?” 

Grian cackled and left. He flew back to his base, landing in his nest. He laid there for a bit, staring at the ceiling. He knew Mumbo and his REAG friends were going as fast as they could without making horrible mistakes, but his friends were missing. Doc and Ozzie didn’t deserve to be locked up in prison. They should be on Hermitcraft with the rest of the Hermits. 

At least the Hermits were one step closer to getting them back. It just sucked that it was through Carni. Grian preferred not to talk to Carni. She was scary, and the debt he was in to her made it worse. Of course, he was under his Watcher name when he dealt with her. Still, he wouldn’t be surprised if she found out Xelqua was Grian. She had an insane amount of informants, and he knew it. 

It was worth it, though. Before he had made the deal with her, the Watchers had tortured him in his dreams. He had been desperate enough to make a deal with her. There was a potion that would prevent any person or entity from entering someone’s dreams. However, it didn’t wear off. The only way to get rid of its effect would be to drink milk. 

But Mojang had made any potion that didn’t wear off eventually illegal. So he had to resort to the black market. Carni had taken advantage of his desperation and overpriced the recipe into oblivion. 

Grian groaned and buried his face in his pillow. 

***

Ottum walked into the alley. It was one of the lesser known districts in the hub. He leaned against the wall and waited. After a few minutes, a figure entered the alley with him. He wordlessly passed over some diamonds, and they passed a sheet of paper to him. He read it. 

So Grian lived on Hermitcraft and had been spotted talking to people named Scar, Mumbo Jumbo, and Xisuma Void. Good to know. 

***

Scar wandered through the hub marketplace, looking for a specific spice. No one on Hermitcraft sold it, and he didn’t know how to get it himself, so he had to outsource. 

Cooking was relaxing for Scar. He was mediocre at it, but it calmed him. And having two friends stuck in prison usually causes a person stress, and Scar was no exception. He went up to a stall that looked like it had spices. 

He made a friendly wave to the person behind the counter. “Hi! Do you have hy- hiss- hys-” Scar gave up trying to pronounce it and just pointed to a word on the recipe. 

The lady behind the counter grinned. “Hyssop?” 

Scar chuckled. “Yeah, that.” 

“Sure we do. Wait a moment, I’ll get it from the back.” She ducked into the backroom of her shop. 

Scar hummed a bit as he waited. Then his world went black. 

Chapter Text

Scar’s head was throbbing. He groaned and opened his eyes, blearily looking around. What happened to the nice lady and the spice stand? He had promised to cook for Grian and Mumbo today; he couldn’t afford to take a detour. 

The room was surprisingly nice. It had smooth stone flooring, making him a bit uncomfortable, but the quartz walls, various pieces of furniture, and small fireplace made it quite cozy. Scar tried to get up, but discovered he was tied down. 

Well. This was a bit of a sticky situation. He wiggled around, trying to get the ropes off while also trying not to make too much noise. However, the person who took him was suspiciously good at this, and his efforts only led to him losing circulation in his hands. 

“Crap…” he muttered. Perhaps he would have to get someone’s attention after all. Hopefully he was still in the hub, where someone would hear him. If he was on a private server, it would be substantially harder to acquire help. “Hello? Help!” Scar continued like that for a while. Eventually the door creaked open. A man walked in. 

Scar was both scared and relieved. Maybe this person would help, but it was entirely possible that this could be the same person who kidnapped him. “...Hello?” 

Their eyes hardened, sending Scar a cold glare. “Hello. You wouldn’t happen to be the Scar that’s friends with Grian?” 

This guy definitely didn’t seem to be very friendly. He’d best deny it. “Who’s Grian?” 

He narrowed his eyes further. “Don’t lie. I can see right through it.” 

Scar felt his heart drop. “...Why did you do this?” 

They chuckled. “Well, you didn’t think Grian’s little stunt with my tower would go unpunished, did you?” 

“Huh? Oh-” This was the guy who’s tower they blew up. This made a lot more sense now. “Listen, we’re just trying to get our friends back-” 

“We? You had a part in this as well?” 

Oops. Perhaps Scar shouldn’t have said that. “I- well, not in the actively blowing it up part.” 

“But you stood by and let it happen, maybe even encouraging it.” he snapped. 

“We just need to get-” 

“Yes yes, you need to get your friends back. You’ve told me, and so has Grian. But doing it this way was a grave mistake, little Vex.” 

Scar felt his mouth run dry. Was it getting hot in here? He was sure his face was red as a tomato. “We’re sorry.” 

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t fix my tower.” 

“We have a lot of builders on Hermitcraft, we could repair it for you.” 

He leaned in. “Oh, you will. But first, I’m going to make you very aware that your actions have consequences.” 

Scar’s breathing started going faster. This didn’t sound good. “Listen, it wasn’t our idea. We had to do it in exchange for Carni’s help.” 

“I know. But you still accepted. You carried it out. And don’t think that I’m letting her off easy. She’s been a thorn in my side for far too long.” 

Scar’s eyes were drawn to his. Did they just flash red, or was it a trick of the light? His eyes were already such a warm brown that it bordered on red. He probably just imagined it.  “Well, she’s the one who sent us after you. If it wasn’t us, it would have been another person.” 

“Perhaps, but you guys are the ones that did.”

Scar couldn’t argue with that. He looked away. 

“Aww, feeling guilty now, are you? Well, too bad. You’ve already done it, and you can’t take it back.” 

“Do you have a save of the world from before it happened?” His head was killing him. It made another throb of pain with every heartbeat that sent blood through it. Maybe he had a minor concussion. 

He made an annoyed huff. “I used to, but Carni or someone who works for her deleted it.” 

Scar felt sadness well up inside him. This person was definitely mad and absolutely a danger to him right now, but he couldn’t imagine losing a prized build like that for good. “I’m… I’m really sorry. We thought you’d be able to load it back with a save.” 

“Maybe you should have checked, first. But obviously you didn’t. Now, tell me- where’s Grian?” 

Chapter Text

Scar hesitated. “Uh- I feel like it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell you that.” 

“It’s an amazing idea. The best. You should totally tell me.” He deadpanned. 

Scar shook his head. “No, I don’t think it is.” 

“Okay, how about this- tell me where he is, or I’ll stab you.” 

Okay, that escalated quickly. This guy didn’t seem to have much patience. “Please don’t?” 

“Then tell me where he is. Or at least how to get ahold of him. I’ve tried hacking into Hermitcraft, but your Admin is extremely good at making and upkeeping his firewalls.” 

Scar sighed. Xisuma worked himself to the limit, but at least something good came of it. “No. He’s my friend. I don’t know what you’ll do to him if you catch him.”

“I’ll pamper him. He’ll never have had better treatment.” The man said dryly. 

“...I’ll take that as sarcasm.” 

“Of course it was sarcasm. The idiot blew up my tower! And don’t you dare tell me that ‘you had to’ again.”

“I-“ Scar didn’t have anything else to say to that. They did have to. He looked away.

“Nothing to say?” The man slid a knife out of his inventory. 

Scar froze at the sight of it. Every cell in his body wanted to run, but being tied up tends to make that difficult to do. “W-Wait, we can talk about this-“ 

“I tried that.” He stepped closer to Scar. 

“No, wait- I’m sure we can work something out-“ 

“How. Do. I get. To Grian?” 

Scar just struggled in his bonds, squirming to get the ropes off. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” He growled, grabbing Scar’s shirt with his hand. He brought  the knife against Scar’s stomach. “Last chance. 

Scar shook his head, his hear pounding in his chest and his face burning. 

Shunk. 

Scar screamed as the knife slid into his stomach. Agonizing lightning bolts of pain shot out from his stomach, getting even worse as the knife was pulled out. The person said something, but Scar’s ears were ringing too loud to hear him. His vision went dark at the edges. 

Why wouldn’t the pain stop? He wanted it to stop so badly. More than anything in the world at the moment. 

He could use his magic. 

It was a terrible idea. His Vex side was hard to keep control over even when he was perfectly healthy, and pain would make it nearly impossible. Yet, a little traitorous corner of his mind found it so tempting. It would put an end to the pain. 

Was losing control really such a bad thing, if it was only this person he would be hurting? The man had kidnapped and stabbed him, after all. 

Normal, healthy Scar would have never considered using his Vex side to his advantage in a situation like this. But this wasn’t normal, healthy Scar. This was a Scar who was in extreme pain and willing to do anything to make it stop. 

He felt the Vexish side of him growing stronger, and he didn’t fight it. Maybe when he became good again, he would feel guilty. But right now, all he wanted was relief. 

The pain faded to a dull ache as Scar’s eyes started glowing bright blue. 

The man did a double take. “What-“

Scar’s wrists phased through his bindings and wrapped around the person’s neck, cutting them off. 

The person immediately knocked his hands off and lept backwards. “What the hell kind of magic was that?” 

“Never seen a Vex hybrid in action before?” Scar cackled. It felt so good to use this power. Why didn’t he do it more often?

He pulled out his sword and started circling Scar, his movements precise and carefully calculated. His eyes examined Scar thoroughly. He reminded Scar of a stalking predator. 

But humans are always prey to Vexes.

Chapter Text

Xisuma sat at his desk, nearly falling asleep. When was the last time he had given himself a break? He thought back. It had been around dawn, and now it was well past dusk. It was a full moon tonight, so it was easy for Xisuma’s tired mind to tell the time. 

Nearly an hour past midnight. Keralis would have dragged him to bed the second it hit ten at night if he were here. Luckily for Xisuma, Keralis was away dealing with family issues, so he had been able to get a bit more work done. 

“Maybe just a few minutes...” Xisuma set his head down on his desk. He was out in an instant. 

Xisuma was awoken by a loud bang. He looked up, seeing that his door had been slammed open by a very pale-looking Scar. 

“Scar?” 

Scar collapsed in the door. Xisuma’s mind was a but sluggish at the moment due to sleep deprivation, so it took him a moment to process that Scar had a bleeding wound on his stomach. 

“Scar!” He lunged out of his seat and rushed over to Scar. He rolled Scar into his back, examining the wound. “How did you get this?” 

“I never got his name.” Scar was quiet, clutching his stomach, and staring into space. He had a distant look in his eye, like his stab wound wasn’t his top priority at the moment. 

Xisuma left Scar where he was and hurried over to his kitchen, rummaging through his cupboards. Eventually he found a health potion. Xisuma poured it in Scar’s mouth, sighing in relief as Scar’s wound closed. 

“...I know you didn’t get their name, but can you at least tell me what happened?” Xisuma asked. 

Scar leaned into Xisuma for comfort. “Remember when we had to blow up someone’s tower?” 

Xisuma nodded. “It’s pretty fresh in my mind, yes.”

“He’s mad.” 

“Mad enough to stab you?” 

Scar nodded, looking pale. 

“He just came up to you on the street and stabbed you?”

“Not quite. He kidnapped me first.” 

Xisuma, although he usually tried not to, cussed under his breath. “Okay, did he talk to you?”

“Yeah. He wanted to find Grian, and somehow knew I’m friends with him.” 

Xisuma tilted his head. “Oh? And I assume you don’t know how he knew?”

“Right. I know we have a lot of builders on the server, but we’re not that famous, right?” 

“I didn’t think so. So how did you escape?” 

“...I don’t want to talk about it.” Scar looked away. 

“...Okay, you don’t have to.” Xisuma thought he had a pretty good idea anyway. He knew what could happen with Vex hybrids, and although Scar had never been bothered by it as far as Xisuma knew, kidnapping could have triggered something. “If you ever do want to talk about it, I’m here.” 

Scar nodded and hugged Xisuma. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.” 

“I try.” He yawned. 

Scar stared at Xisuma for a moment. “X, when was the last time you slept?”

“I just woke up.” 

“Okay, but how long did you sleep before that?”

Xisuma checked the time. “Uh... thirty minutes.” 

“You should have gone to bed sooner. If you just woke up and you got thirty minutes, you would have gone to bed at midnight. Not to mention you probably woke up early today as well.” Scar scolded. He sounded just like Keralis. 

Xisuma shrugged and yawned again. “It’s okay; I had work to do.” 

Scar sighed. “You need a better sleep schedule. And breaks.” 

“...When did this conversation become about me? You’re the one who got kidnapped and stabbed.” 

“And you helped me by giving me a health potion. Now I’m helping you.” Scar got up and pulled Xisuma over to the couch. 

“Hey- what-” 

“You’re taking a nice long nap and you’re not getting up until at least ten in the morning.” 

“But-” 

“No buts.”

Chapter Text

Mumbo fiddled with the inside of their contraption. A machine that could disguise someone’s code was easier than the prototype communicator that Doc had made, but that wasn’t saying much. Spiral reached over to add a piece. Mumbo brushed her hand away. 

She groaned. “Mumbo, it was a good idea!” 

“A good idea? That would have made it explode-” 

Raven chuckled. “That model isn’t going anywhere anyway. We might as well.” 

Mumbo gave him an incredulous look. “It’s not that bad. We can still use it in something else, or refer back to it. I think you just want to watch it explode.” 

“That’s always fun.” Raven made a sly grin. 

“And you’re supposed to be laid back.” Spiral quipped. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a little chaos now and then.” 

Mumbo facepalmed. “You’re both impossible.” 

They laughed. Spiral nudged Mumbo. “We try.” 

“Miss the REAG days? I remember doing this all day every day.” Raven said. 

“What, dealing with you two all day? No thanks.” Mumbo joked. In reality, he liked it when the three of them bantered. It kept things lively. 

Spiral sighed dramatically. “That’s so rude. I don’t know why we’re helping you.” 

“Because you guys loooove me. You can’t resist.” Mumbo teased. 

Raven rolled his eyes and smiled. “Oh? We can’t? Well, I do have some other things to do...” 

“You tease.” Spiral elbowed him. “Just think about it. We’re getting back at Notch right now. You wouldn’t want to miss out on that, would you?” 

“Of course not.” Raven handed Mumbo another part. “Attach that to the piston handle, would you?” 

Mumbo nodded and attached the piece. “So you don’t think this is a complete waste of a model.” 

Raven shrugged. “Perhaps. It still probably won’t work. It’s just a prototype.” 

“Doc built a prototype. Look where it got us.” Mumbo moved a few parts around. 

Raven shook his head. “That’s different. His machine was volatile and unstable. We can’t afford that here. One wrong piece could get us rejected by Notch’s firewall and arrested.” 

Spiral smiled. “Look on the bright side! It finally got all of us back together again.” 

Raven rolled his eyes. “You’re too optimistic for your own good. One of the former leaders of REAG is imprisoned.” 

“And you’re a sour ball of pessimism.” She fired back. 

“It keeps me alert.” 

“It keeps you depressed.” 

Mumbo had heard this argument before. Spiral and Raven were good friends, but they had very different views. These altercations usually ended up with both of them agreeing to disagree, but not before a noisy period of unproductivity. 

Mumbo cleared his throat. “Uh- maybe we shouldn’t argue about this right now? We kind of have a machine to build.” 

Raven nodded. “Yes, we do.” 

Spiral made a mischievous grin. “You’re gonna have your house covered in eggs tonight.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

Mumbo chuckled and patted Raven on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you clean it off.” 

Raven grinned at him. “Thanks. We should also probably make a chat suppressor to hide the ‘user joined the game’ message. That will make it easier to sneak around Notch’s server undetected.” 

Spiral nabbed a few redstone parts. “I got it. I make them all the time.” 

Raven tilted his head. “What do you use them for?” 

Spiral made a nervous laugh. “Uh- don’t worry about it.” She took the parts and bolted out of the room. 

Raven turned to Mumbo. “I guarantee it’s something scandalous.” 

Mumbo burst into laughter. 

Chapter Text

Xisuma sighed and threw another crumpled piece of paper in the bin. Planning was hard. Especially planning for something very few people had ever done before, and those that had weren’t available due to being thrown in prison afterwards. Most of them, at least. Some had gone into hiding or had powerful enough connections to avoid the consequences. 

Grian snored. Xisuma looked over at him, seeing that Grian had fallen asleep. Xisuma sighed, picked him up, and set him on the couch. Some people just weren’t as good at staying awake as he was. The other Hermits always told him that wasn’t a good thing, but he couldn’t help but be a bit proud of the skill. 

Just as Xisuma attempted to walk back to his desk, Grian’s hand shot out and latched onto his sleeve. “Stay.” came a sleepy mumble. 

Xisuma made a soft smile. “Sorry, but I need to plan. Mumbo said the machine is almost ready.” 

“But you need to sleep.” Grian complained. 

Not this conversation again. “Maybe in a bit.” 

Grian pulled Xisuma onto the couch without another word. Xisuma yelped. Grian pulled the blanket over them both. “Sleeeeeep.” 

Xisuma sighed. He relaxed under the blanket. “Maybe a little nap.” 

“Big nap.” 

“Someone has to do the planning.” 

“Tired brains make bad plans.” Grian retorted. 

“...Fair point.” 

Grian made a happy chirp. “Besides, the others can help.” 

“I guess.” Xisuma closed his eyes and tried to rest. Sleep came fairly quickly. 

***

Doc stared at Ozzie. He had finally gotten the kid to sleep, which was surprisingly hard. Doc was beginning to suspect that Ozzie had insomnia. Pulling the blanket further over Ozzie, Doc sighed. 

They weren’t getting nearly enough food. Even though Ozzie was making Doc eat the majority of it, Doc was still getting weaker by the day. That was probably why they were being fed so little in the first place. Doc felt his hopes of breaking out fade away with each passing hour. 

The Hermits would help them. There was little chance of being able to break out anyway. This server was made to keep people like him in. It was a miracle that he and Ozzie were even allowed to stay together, but Doc suspected that it was because the prison was overpopulated, and not because of a whim of kindness by a high ranking individual. Mojang had been getting harsher about enforcing their laws of late. 

Absentmindedly humming, Doc tried to distract himself from his hunger. Not too loud, though. He didn’t want to wake Ozzie up when he had finally gotten the child down. 

At least talking with Ozzie had been somewhat entertaining. There were a lot of First World references and slang that Doc didn’t know, but he was slowly learning. He finally knew what ‘lowkey’ meant, although Ozzie had cringed when he tried to use the word himself. Surely Doc wasn’t that old, right? 

He had learned about the First World through Ozzie as well. Apparently, while the server system was more advanced in some ways, the First World was more advanced in others. The First World had developed more transportation technology, where those in the server system usually depended on elytras. Doc had questioned Ozzie endlessly on strange devices called cars. The teenager had happily obliged, talking incessantly about them. 

Doc already had new inspirations about machines he could build. However, he couldn’t bring his ideas into reality, for obvious reasons. 

He stared at the bars, imagining them melting away so he could go home. Home, to his beautiful Perimeter where he had plenty of space to build farms and machines and anything else he felt the need to build. He could have completed at least two projects by now. Instead, he was stuck in here. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t think this was a possibility. He knew full well the risk he was taking when he decided to try to make his own communicator. It just sucked that things had taken a turn for the worse. 

Chapter Text

Xisuma woke up to Mumbo gently shaking his shoulder. He blinked groggily up at the mustached man. “Yeah?” 

“Uh- nevermind, go back to sleep. I thought you were awake and just snuggling with Grian.” Mumbo fidgeted and tried to back away. 

“No, tell me.” Xisuma grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “I’m already awake.” 

“I’m sorry, you’re finally getting sleep, you should go back to-” 

Xisuma interrupted him. “Mumbo, I’m awake now. And if you don’t tell me whatever it was you were going to tell me, I’ll keep pestering you until you do.” 

Mumbo frowned. “Okay, but can you go to bed after that?” 

“No promises.” 

Mumbo sighed and shook his head. “How do you even survive?” 

“Hey! I do take care of myself. Just... a little less often as the rest of you.” 

“A little?” 

“...We’re getting off topic. Just tell me.” Xisuma hoped it was good news. He, and the Hermits, needed it right now. 

“...Fine. The machine is done. Now go back to sleep.” 

Xisuma was sitting upright in a flash. “It is?” 

“No no, you’re supposed to go back to sleep-” Mumbo protested. 

“No time!” Xisuma replied. He bolted to his desk, pulling out blank paper. The machine was done and they still didn’t have a plan. He started scribbling notes onto the sheet. 

Mumbo sighed. “I should have made you promise to go back to sleep.” 

“I don’t need sleep, I need a plan.” 

“You do need sleep.” 

“Mumbo, this is important. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Xisuma muttered. He had heard this speech a million times, and it was getting annoying. 

Mumbo hesitated, but then came and sat next to him. “You can’t plan for something you don’t have a good understanding of. The only people who know the layout of Notch’s server are a select few of his most trusted friends and the man himself. It’s not like there’s a map anywhere.” 

Xisuma groaned in frustration. “We can’t just go in blindly!” 

“We might have to.” 

Xisuma contemplated that for a moment, and he had to admit Mumbo was right. There wasn’t a plan he could make because he had no idea what he was planning for. Giving into Mumbo’s logic, he said “Alright. Have you told the rest of the server yet?” 

Mumbo shook his head. “Only Spiral and Raven know right now. Oh, and Cub. He helped with the last bit. I came straight to you.” 

Xisuma nodded. “Okay. Thank you.” He pulled out his com and started typing. 

<xisumavoid> everyone come to spawn

<xisumavoid> remember to leave your coms at home

<GoodTimeWithScar> is it finished? 

<xisumavoid> we’ll talk at spawn 

Xisuma went over to Grian and shook his shoulder. “Grian. Let’s go to spawn.” 

“But ‘m tired.” he mumbled.

“The machine is done. We should start deciding who’s going to go to Notch’s server.” Xisuma pulled the covers off of Grian. “I would let you sleep, but I know you would want a chance to vote for yourself.” 

Grian yanked the blanket back. “Mm. Five more minutes.” 

“...Okay. But set a timer on your com so you don’t accidentally fall back asleep.” 

Grian made a sleepy nod. “Okay.” He made no move to reach for his com. 

Xisuma let out an exasperated sigh and set it for him. “There you go. Don’t hit snooze.” 

“Sure.” Grian sounded even more asleep. 

Xisuma made a light chuckle and made his way out of his house. 

Chapter Text

Hearing the dreaded alarm noise, Grian threw his communicator at the wall. It hit the stone with a thud, and fell down to the floor, still blaring. Grian made an annoyed squawk and covered his head with the pillow. 

The alarm suddenly turned off, and Grian sighed in relief and nearly dozed off again before there was a shake on his shoulder. “Grian. X said five minutes, and it’s been five minutes. Come on, buddy.” 

Recognizing his good friend Mumbo’s voice, Grian blinked his eyes open. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d already be there?” 

Mumbo rolled his eyes. “I know you well enough to know an alarm isn’t going to get you out of bed. I’ll drag you if I have to. I know you want to be the one to go.” 

“Yeah, I do, but it’s not gonna happen.” Grian mumbled, closing his eyes again. 

Mumbo shook him again. “No, don’t go back to sleep. Why don’t you think it’s going to happen?” 

“X-eye-zooma is going. I guarantee it.” 

“And why’s that? There are plenty of Hermits that would happily volunteer.” Mumbo challenged. 

“Because it’s X.” 

“...Fair point.” 

“Exactly.” 

Mumbo hesitated for a moment, during which Grian nearly fell asleep again. “You should still come. There’s at least a slight chance you could be it.” 

“But only a slight! Must you wake me up whenever I sleep? First it’s with redstone shenanigans in the middle of the night, now it’s with this...”

“Oh, stop complaining. We’ve wasted enough time as it is. Come on.” Mumbo hauled Grian off of the couch. 

Grian squawked and stumbled to his feet. “Unfair! I wasn’t ready!” 

“You wouldn’t have been ready for another two hours.” Mumbo teased, only half joking. “We have to go.” Mumbo strapped on his elytra and walked out the door of Xisuma’s house. 

Grian sighed and followed him. “Sleep deprivation has consequences, you know!” 

Mumbo snickered. “You’re hardly sleep deprived.” Mumbo yelped as Grian batted him with his wing. “What? It’s true!” 

“You’re so annoying.” 

“So are you. There’s a reason people call you pesky bird.” Mumbo teased. 

“Oi!” Grian chased Mumbo into the sky, squawking angrily. It was all in good fun, of course. Grian needed something to wake him up. 

Mumbo led them over to spawn, where the other Hermits were waiting. As Mumbo landed, Grian swooped down and tackled him. Mumbo let out an oof as the breath was knocked out of him. He struggled to inhale for a few seconds. “Grian!” 

“Sorry, that was a bit harder of a landing than I planned.” 

“A bit?” 

Xisuma intervened. “Hermits, let’s get back on topic. I believe we have everyone here now that Grian has decided to show up,” some of the Hermits snickered, including Grian, “and we have an important decision to make. Can everyone please make for certain that they left their communicators at home?” 

After a few seconds of the Hermits shuffling around their pockets and inventories, they all nodded or gave a thumbs up. 

“Perfect. As we all know, someone has to break into Notch’s server. The devices that Mumbo, Spiral, and Raven have been working on are completed, so our time is limited before Mojang finds out what we built. Because of the recent illegal activity on this server, Mojang will probably conduct surprise inspections for a bit. We have to decide now who is going, because surprise inspections are surprise. Who is willing to go?” 

Every Hermit raised their hand. 

Chapter Text

Xisuma sighed. “Okay, we need to narrow this down a bit. Who has a special skill or ability that can help with this mission specifically? Building skills or stuff like that doesn’t count, because it won’t be helpful for kidnapping Notch or sneaking around his server.”

About half of the Hermits put their hands down. 

“Okay. And of those, how many can easily and consistently control their power or skill?” 

Another half of the Hermit’s hands went down, including Grain and Scar. Xisuma examined the people left. Himself, False, Ren, Tango, Cleo, and Joe. Xisuma agreed that these were the Hermits that had the best chance. 

“Alright. How about this- we vote on it.” Xisuma suggested. There were excited murmurs. Weeks of waiting were coming to an end. Xisuma headed home to grab a hopper, an anvil, and some paper. Collecting hsi items, he flew back. 

***

Joe watched as his good friend Xisuma flew back and  set up the hopper. The paper was passed out, and Joe put his own name on his piece. He knew that he had the best chance out of everyone of pulling this off. But did the Hermits know that? Hopefully. Otherwise, he would have to resort to using a couple of his friends to get him into that server along with whoever was chosen. 

He’d rather not have to do that, though. It would raise unwanted questions. Joe threw his paper in the hopper and waited for everyone to finish doing the same. He stepped back and waited, watching the trees sway in the wind to pass the time. It went by in the blink of an eye for him. Everything seemed to, when you were as old as he was. 

When everyone had voted, Xisuma looked in the hopper. “...Tango.” 

Joe should have expected this, really. He had never been very open about... what he was. Many of the Hermits probably didn’t even know he was anything other than human. No wonder he got few votes. Tango, on the other hand, was very clearly a blaze hybrid. His fiery abilities could come in very handy. 

Tango grinned, the flames around him sparking excitedly. “I’ll do my best.” 

Joe nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “I believe in you.” He did believe in Tango. Still, it would be better if Joe went with him. Tango smiled at him. 

Mumbo walked up to Tango. “Here. This is the com that will get you into the server. These machines are the one that will disguise your code, and the one that will suppress the ‘user joined the game’ message. Remember not to put them in your inventory- you won’t have the same inventory in the other server. Store them in a bag or something so that they’re on your person.” 

Tango nodded. “I know. I did help you build them a bit, didn’t I?” 

Mumbo chuckled. “You did. Sorry, I was just making sure.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Tango brushed it off, smiling. “I’ll be careful.” 

Joe flew off. He needed to set a few things up. 

***

Tango tried to squash his nerves. The flames in his hair would betray any kind of apprehension he was feeling, and he didn’t want the other Hermits to start doubting him now. They had voted for him for a reason. He flashed a smile and set off a firework, gliding back to his base. 

He walked around his base, packing everything he deemed useful into a satchel. It was strange to not use an inventory, but inventories were specific to the server, so he had to carry everything himself. 

Eventually, the satchel ran out of room. He didn’t have nearly as much as he wanted. An inventory could fit much more. Well, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Maybe he could bring another satchel, but that would weigh him down too much. Speed could come in handy. 

Tango took a deep breath and looked down at the communicator. Was he ready? He double checked that he had everything he wanted to have. He did. Turning on the communicator, he examined the profile. It was the com of a person called Ottum Devino. 

Wasn’t that the person that Carni had set the Hermits on?

It didn’t matter at the moment. What mattered was that this Ottum had access to Notch’s personal server, and it was going to get the Hermits their friends back. Tango scrolled through the server list until he saw what he was looking for. 

He clicked it, and joined the server. 

Chapter Text

I need your help. 

One moment. Helping shelve books. 

It can’t wait. Tango is in Notch’s server. 

WHAT?

Yeah. Can you get me there?

Yes, but I won’t be able to build the machines necessary until it’s too late. He’s going to find out before you get there. 

...I was hoping to be there. 

He’s not fragile. He can handle knowing. 

It would be easier if I was there to explain. 

I’ll work as fast as I can. Logan can handle the books by himself. 

Thank you. 

You still won’t be there before he finds it. 

...That’s okay. I’ll have to explain it to him afterwards, then. 

You could have just told the Hermits. 

And risk exposing all of us? Shay would have a fit. Besides, they can still get something out of that server. 

Shay would have calmed down eventually. 

Not before shattering my eardrums first. 

Now who’s being dramatic?

Shut up. 

***

Tango looked around, examining his new surroundings. The landscape was absolutely gorgeous. Professional builders had definitely worked on it. The hills were swooping and covered in lush moss, grass, and the occasional azalea tree. Particles from azalea flowers drifted lazily through the air, carrying its sweet scent with them. 

Notch’s server. What they had been working towards for weeks. This was where he was going to find the creator of the server system. 

“Wow... this looks like heaven.” Tango muttered. He snapped himself out of it, knowing he had a job to do. Scanning the horizon, Tango spotted a vibrant city. The lights stood out against the horizon that was orange with dusk rapidly coming to a close, painting the sky into what you would expect from a fantastical canvas. The only thing missing is a dragon. Tango thought. 

Tango started sprinting towards it, not wanting to get stuck with the mobs. He quickly checked the gamemode, hoping it wasn’t on hard. 

...Peaceful. Of course. The rich often didn’t want to deal with the messes that fights with mobs left behind in their oh so special worlds, and Notch was quite literally the most rich person in the server system. Tango scoffed.

He slowed his pace, not wanting to tre himself out too early. There was no risk of mobs anyway. As he walked, he noticed that the only sound he could hear was his own feet on the mossy ground. No frogs croaking, no sheep baying, no wind in the leaves of trees. The eerie silence was unnerving. There were certainly mods that could make it possible to control the weather further than basic commands allowed, but no wind? 

As he walked, Tango suddenly noticed how still everything was. Nothing moved. Not a single leaf or blade of grass shifted, because there was nothing to make it. This place really was like a painting on a canvas. It seemed to be frozen in time, in a way. The only change Tango could spot was the sun dipping past the city behind it. 

Tango squinted at it. Shouldn’t the sun have gotten a little lower by now? Instead, it was in the exact same position it had been in when he had first arrived. Great, not even the sun moved, locked in a perpetual gloaming.

The world was beautiful, but he didn’t think he could live in a world without change. 

Tango made his way into the city, now painfully aware of the silence and stillness. However, his attention was quickly drawn to some graffiti on a nearby building. Tango snickered and nearly moved on before doing a double take. Wait, vandalism? On Notch’s server? 

Either Notch did this himself, or someone had broken in here before. 

Chapter Text

Tango walked up to the graffiti. It had extremely bright colors and was nearly blinding to look at. Nevertheless, it was pretty. It was in a language that Tango had never seen before, so he didn’t have any clue who the artist could be. He snapped a picture on his com for later. Once they rescued Doc, he could probably tell him more about it. He was one of the oldest and by far the smartest person on the server. 

Tango continued into the city, looking for Notch. He hoped that there would be a building that screamed “NOTCH LIVES HERE,” because he did not want to have to search every single building. 

An hour of wandering later, Tango huffed and entered what appeared to be a coffee shop. He sat down wearily. He might have to search every building after all; he wasn’t finding anything significant. He looked down at the table. A cup of coffee was there. 

Still steaming. 

“What? How-” Tango stared at it, baffled. Either this was another mod, or someone was here recently. He scanned the area, but like all of the past hour, it was completely barren. Tango slowly stood up. 

“Hello?” he called. Waiting a moment, he heard nothing. “Is anyone here?” 

The server was just as silent as ever. Tango thought he would go insane if he had to stay here for an extended period of time. The only noise was his own breathing, footsteps, and voice. What he wouldn’t give to hear the wind. 

Tango sighed and nearly sat down when he heard a shuffle behind the counter. He froze and listened. For a moment, all he could hear was still himself. He made his way to the counter and peaked over it. 

A raccoon hybrid stared up at him. They had a dirt-smeared hoodie and jeans on. They gave him a sheepish smile. “Uhm- hello.” 

Tango eyed them. “You wouldn’t happen to be Notch, would you?” Tango was pretty sure Notch was a human, but it couldn’t hurt to make sure. 

“Nope. You?”

Tango laughed. “Nope. I just asked you if you were Notch. Why would Notch ask if someone else was Notch?” 

The raccoon hybrid chuckled. “I don’t know. I just wasn’t sure what to say. It’s not every day here that I see someone who broke into the hardest place to break into in the Server System.” 

Tango nodded. “Fair enough. How did you get in?” 

They shrugged. “Hey, a good criminal doesn’t reveal their secrets.” 

“You’re a criminal?” Tango tilted his head. Maybe he should be more careful about talking to this person. They could be dangerous. 

“So are you. I’m pretty sure it’s against the law to break into Notch’s personal server. Or any server, for that matter.” 

...This person had a valid point. “Good point. I guess I am a criminal.” Tango replied, sheepish. 

The raccoon hybrid stood up and leaned over the counter to pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s okay. Being hunted by the police is fun!” 

Tango gave them a judgemental look. “I think you have a weird definition of ‘fun.’ I’d rather not be chased by law enforcement.” 

They shrugged. “To each their own, I guess. Anyway, wanna vandalize some buildings with me?” they offered, grinning. 

Tango let out a short laugh. “No, thank you. I’ll already be in enough trouble for breaking in here.” 

“Not if you don’t get caught.” The raccoon hybrid commented. 

“Still, I’d rather not.” 

They shrugged. “Alright. Coffee, then?” 

Chapter Text

Tango thought for a moment. “Sure, I guess I could have coffee.” 

The raccoon hybrid beamed. “Great! There’s some coffee back here that’s really good. Super smooth. I think it has fudge in it.” 

Tango tilted his head. “Fudge? Really?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t expect to like it either, but it’s actually delicious.” 

“Oh. Alright, then.” 

The raccoon hybrid grabbed a bag of coffee off of a shelf and started making it. “Could you bring my cup over here? I was in the middle of drinking it when I heard you coming.” 

Tango nodded and retrieved the cup of coffee that had originally tipped him off that there was someone else here. He handed it to the raccoon hybrid. “What’s, uh... what’s up with this world? It’s like things are frozen in time.” 

“Mods. Lots of them.” 

Tango scoffed. “Yeah, I guessed that. But why?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Notch is a neat freak and installed this many mods to keep his server pristine.” 

“Hm. Maybe. It’s still really weird.” 

“Agreed. It’s unnerving. But still fun to sneak around in.” he made a mischievous grin. 

Tango laughed. “You know, if Notch is really a neat freak, your graffiti is going to get you in even more trouble.” 

The raccoon hybrid smiled wider. “I look forward to it. Can you imagine? At least twenty people to run from.” 

Tango shook his head. “You’re crazy.” 

“Maybe. But you’re still talking to me, aren’t you?” 

Sighing, Tango nodded. “Yeah. Wanted criminal or not, you’re pretty entertaining.” 

The raccoon hybrid doubled over laughing. “Part of my charm. I can escape anyone.” 

“And cocky, too.” Tango grinned. 

“Hey, is it really being cocky if it’s true?” 

“Yes. Yes, it is.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe it is.” After a moment, he couldn’t help a smile spreading across his face again. “You’re pretty entertaining too.” 

“Thanks. I’m Tango, by the way.” 

“Cool. I’m Seip.” 

Tango frowned. He thought he knew the name from somewhere, but he couldn’t place it. “I think I know that name...” 

“You’re thinking of the Seip that stole an entire market square from the hub three years ago.” 

Tango gaped. “Wait- are you that Seip?” 

Seip grinned. “The chaos that caused was amazing. Truly one of my greatest thefts.” 

“...You really are a wanted criminal. How the heck did you even pull that off?” 

“I had a little help. Still, it was epic. I had people on my tail for months.” 

Tango shook his head in disbelief. “You’re actually crazy.” 

Seip cackled. “All part of the fun, Tangle.” 

“Tango, not Tangle.” 

“Oh. Whoops.” 

Tango blinked, still reeling that he was talking to a criminal that accomplished. “Uh- anyway, do you know where Notch lives? I don’t want to search the entire city.” 

Seip frowned. “Oh. You don’t know?” 

“Know what?” 

“Notch is dead.” 

Chapter Text

Tango’s eyes widened. “Dead? You can’t be serious.” 

Seip chuckled. “Of course I’m serious. He invented the Server System, but that’s been around for generations. He was human, and humans can only get to about a century if they’re lucky. You seriously thought he’s still alive after all this time?” 

“I- well- I guess I never thought about it like that.” Tango admitted. Growing up, he always heard people talking about Notch in the present tense. No one even brought up the possibility that he could be dead, except for the occasional conspiracy theorist. 

Seip shrugged. “No one does. I guess people just assume he’s alive. It’s not their fault, though. The people who took over afterwards benefit off of the illusion that he’s still kicking.” 

“They do? Who even are they?” Everybody knew the government was a bit sketchy, but this was beyond what Tango could have imagined in a million years. 

“I didn’t memorize their names. I do know there’s at least five of them.” Seip sipped his coffee. 

Tango sat there for a moment, stunned. “...Wait, you still didn’t explain why it benefits them to keep saying Notch is alive.” 

“Oh yeah. So, basically- they can do whatever they want, because people will blame a dead man for all of their problems. They can lay down laws and make people think they came straight from Notch, when in reality, the guy is long gone.” 

Tango just sat there, processing. It was true, he had always blamed Notch himself for bad laws, not the council below him that was frequently overlooked. “So- uh- what about the council that runs things? Like the head of economics? Are they the ones-” 

Seip interrupted him. “No, they don’t know either. They think he’s alive, too. The people really controlling things are pretty secretive.” 

Tango nodded, understanding. The heads of different departments were changed by popular vote if they got too corrupt. That wouldn’t be good for some secret shadow government. “How do they fake messages from Notch? Isn’t he supposed to give them orders from time to time?” 

“Notch... well, he didn’t leave nothing behind.” 

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Tango asked incredulously. 

“It’s probably best that I just show you.” 

“Uh- okay?” Tango’s imagination was running wild now. 

Seip strolled out of the coffee shop. Tango, after a moment, got up and caught up to him. Seip gestured to the building around them. “Well, first off, he left this server behind. There are a bunch of mods that keep it perfectly preserved.” 

“Except for your vandalism.” 

Seip laughed. “Yep, except for my vandalism. It’s so fun. Most of this place is still the way it was, though.” 

“That’s so cool...” Tango gazed around him. This place felt even more special now that he knew it was made thousands of years ago. 

Seip shrugged. “Yeah. It’s alright.” 

“Alright? How does this not blow your mind?” 

“Eh. I suppose once you’ve been here enough, the thrill fades. But crime always makes things fun.” He grinned. 

“Oh my goodness. You’re hopeless.” 

***

Are you nearly done? 

Nearly. 

How much longer? 

Don’t be impatient. I’m working on it. 

Sorry. Tango must be so confused, with no one there. 

Seip is there. 

WHAT? 

Yep. He’s showing Tango around. 

Seip better not be messing with him. Hey, don’t laugh! 

Chapter Text

“So... this world is cool and all, but I was under the impression that he left something bigger behind? I mean, I already saw the city-” 

Seip interrupted. “Great Spirits, you’re even more impatient than I am.” 

“What-? No, I’m not! It was just a question.” Tango raised an eyebrow. 

Seip chuckled. “Just wait a little bit. We’re almost there.” 

Tango cocked his head. Why did he have to wait? “Why can’t you just tell me? You’re not planning on leading me somewhere to kidnap me, are you?” He had to remember that Seip was a very accomplished criminal. 

Laughing, Seip shook his head. “No. I steal objects, not people. It’s just that I’ll get a funnier reaction if you see it first.” 

“Very comforting.” Tango muttered. 

That only made Seip grin more. “You’re fun to mess with, you know.” 

***

It’s ready. 

Wait, really? 

Yes, really. Hurry. Seip is about to show the machine to Tango. I have a feeling he’ll spin some wild tale about it. 

Sounds like him. I’m coming. 

Joe had never joined a server faster. He scrolled through his communicator and selected the server ‘Sam’s Library.’ The world blurred for a moment as he traveled between servers before appearing before a library. Joe pushed the door open and rushed inside, weaving between bookcases to get to the room where he knew Sam was. 

As Joe tried to get behind the counter to get to the staff areas, a teenager stepped in front of him. “Sorry, you can’t be back here.” 

Joe stared. “...And who are you?” 

She gave him a judgemental look. “I work here, dude. You can’t be back here. If you have a book on hold, I can get it, but you have to stay behind the counter.” 

Joe felt a spark of annoyance. Sam, you hired someone? 

Yeah, what about it? 

They’re not letting me in. 

Just tell them you know me. 

The teen was snapping their fingers in Joe’s face. “Hellooo? You there? Are you high?” 

Joe brushed her hand away. “No, I’m not high. I know Sam, okay? I need to talk to her.” 

“Ew, a Karen? Listen, my manager doesn’t want to be bothered by disgruntled customers.” She eyed Joe, their hands going into their pockets, looking bored. 

“W- I- what? I’m not a customer. Sam’s my friend, and I need to see her.” 

“She said she doesn’t want to be bothered. You’re gonna have to wait. She’s working on some machine or something.” 

Sam, the kid still isn’t letting me through. 

Just walk around her. 

Or you could come out here and tell her it’s fine? 

Why would I do that when I could sit at my desk and relax? 

You’re horrible. 

Joe skirted around the teen and headed towards Sam’s workroom. The teen gaped at him. “Wh- hey! I said you can’t be back here!” The teen grabbed his arm and tried to drag Joe back to the other side of the counter. 

Insolent mortal. Joe frowned. This kid was getting on his nerves. He had a friend to get to, and she kept getting in his way. Sam, if you don’t come out here and take care of this, I’m going to lose it. 

Fine. I’m coming. 

Chapter Text

Joe tried to shake the teen off. “This is ridiculous.” he muttered. 

“Dude, you can’t-” 

Sam came out of her workroom, holding a wrench with bags under her eyes. “Abby, let go of him. I invited him here.” 

Abby huffed and let go of Joe. “Sorry, miss.” She went back to her seat behind the desk, rolling her eyes. 

Joe rubbed the spot on his arm where she had grabbed it. “This Abby has a surprisingly strong grip.” 

Sam smirked. “Or maybe you’re just out of shape.” 

“I am not!” Joe protested while following Sam back to her workroom. “The kid just has a death grip.” 

“Sure.” Sam said dryly. She led Joe back to her workroom and closed the door behind him. 

“Do I need to get rid of my com?” Joe questioned, not wanting to say anything in the presence of their coms that could get Mojang on their backs. Joe had enough to deal with, with Seip potentially weaving fibs into Tango’s brain for a joke. 

Sam shook his head. “No, I think you already know what I made. It’s the same as what Mombo, Spiral, and Raven made on Hermitcraft.” 

“Ah. You made it much faster than they did, so I wasn’t sure.” 

“Well, I know what I’m doing. You remember when we did this before.” 

Joe laughed. “Oh, yeah. That was... chaotic.” 

“It always is, with Seip involved.” 

***

Seip led Tango deeper and deeper into the city. The blaze hybrid soon lost all sense of direction, but Seip walked between the buildings with purpose. 

“How far is it?” Tango questioned. 

Seip shrugged, sending Tango a goofy grin. “I donno. I’m completely lost.” 

“Wait, what? I thought you knew where you were going!” he exclaimed. “How do you look like you know where you’re going?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Seip smiled and kept walking, pure confidence in his stride. “We’ll find it eventually, we just have to wander for a bit.” 

“Oh my goodness-” 

Seip cackled. “You’re hilarious.” 

Tango huffed. “Thanks, I guess. How long does it usually take for you to find it?” 

Shrugging, Seip replied “Depends. One time I found it almost immediately, and other times I wandered around for hours.” 

Tango groaned. 

***

Doc sighed and sat against the wall of the cell. He was so hungry. Despite Ozzie insisting that Doc take most of the food, it still wasn’t enough to maintain Doc’s massive form. He could feel his muscles getting weaker and smaller over time without the proper nutrients to maintain it. His prosthetic arm was starting to look slightly ridiculous. It was built to mimic the strength on his other arm, but now it just looked oversized. 

Doc looked over at Ozzie, wondering when they would get out. Mojang certainly wasn’t going to let them out, but Doc was sure the Hermits were going to help them. He just didn’t know how. 

Maybe they were planning a prison break. The Mojang prison was so heavily secure that it was doubtful that anyone could break in or out, but maybe that’s why the Hermits were taking so long. Maybe they just needed time to plan. 

After this, Doc had to get REAG back together. Probably under a different name, though. Using the name of a failed resistance could lead to uneasy spirits. He needed confident allies, not scared ones. That was assuming he could get as many of the REAG crew back together and recruit more people as well. 

Doc started thinking of all the former REAG members he could remember. Mumbo, Spiral, Raven... and of course, he could never forget one of his fellow founders, Ottum. 

Chapter Text

Seip finally found a building and lit up. “Here we are. See, it didn’t take that long!” 

Tango eyed it. “It looks like every other building here. How do you know it’s the right one?” 

“The graffiti. Look, there’s a dragon I painted on the building over there. And I know that the right building is across from the dragon graffiti.” 

“Oh. So now can you tell me what’s in it?” 

“A dragon. Notch died, but sent his soul into a dragon. The people controlling everything have him trapped in the basement of this building.” 

Tango had to take a moment to process. “Uhm, what?” 

“I know, right? Pretty crazy. I-” 

“Seip.” Joe’s voice rang out behind them.

Tango whipped around, gaping as he saw his fellow Hermit. “Joe? How did you get here?” 

Joe ignored Tango’s question, focusing on Seip. “What do you think you’re doing? There’s no dragon down there and you know it.” 

Seip laughed nervously. “Uh- well- it was really just a metaphor, you know-” 

“No, it wasn’t. Tango was actually believing you.” 

Tango narrowed his eyes at Seip. “There’s no dragon?” 

Joe answered for Seip. “No. He was lying.” 

“Not lying,” Seip protested, “just having a little fun. I would have told him the truth eventually.” 

Joe rolled his eyes. “Just get out of here. Sam had words for you.” 

Seip sighed. “She’s gonna be going on for hours-” He left the server. 

Now alone with Joe, Tango took a deep breath. “How do you know Seip? And who’s Sam?” 

“Sam, Seip, and I have been friends for a long time. Anyway, there’s no dragon. There’s an AI.” 

“How long- wait, what? That’s even crazier!” Dragons existed; everyone had seen one when they went to the End, but an AI? Even the smartest AIs currently weren’t even close to what an actual brain could do. 

“Yes. Notch didn’t transfer his soul into a dragon, he made a perfect copy of his consciousness in an AI. It’s all over this city, in every com, machine, and building. The computer that mainly holds it is underneath this building.” Joe pointed, hoping that Tango wouldn’t freak out. 

Tango, stunned, didn’t say anything, having a hard time believing it. 

Joe sighed. “Maybe I should just show you?” 

Tango nodded. “I- yeah, I think that would be helpful.” 

Joe pushed open the door and led Tango inside. It looked like a standard hotel. Something someone could expect to find in tourist spots. There was a cozy seating area and a front desk, with plants placed next to the doors and furniture. Joe headed straight for the elevator. 

“Wait, Joe, have you been here before?” Tango questioned. “You look like you know where you’re going.” 

Joe paused. “...Yes, I’ve been here. It was a long time ago, though.” 

“How long?” 

“Oh, I don’t know the exact number of years.” Joe gestured vaguely. 

Tango eyed him. “What are you hiding?” 

Joe eyed Tango right back, a contemplative expression on his face. “Nothing dangerous.” 

“You’re avoiding the question.” 

“And when people avoid questions, they obviously don’t want to answer. It’s nothing dangerous.” Joe deadpanned. 

“...Alright, I guess I’ll have to accept that. X wouldn’t let you stay on Hermitcraft if you were evil or something, so I trust you. Besides, we’re friends.” 

Joe let a light smile slip onto his face. “Thank you, Tango. That means a lot.” 

Chapter Text

Joe pressed floor negative one in the elevator. Silence pressed in on them as the elevator silently took them to the first level of the basement. After an agonizingly long time, the door sluggishly slid open. Soft rugs sprawled across the floor and original paintings adorned the walls. New looking leather covered furniture was sitting across from various tables that had filled glasses on them. 

Tango eyed the decor. “Is this some sort of bar?” 

Joe shrugged. “Kind of. It’s also kind of a lounge. It’s mostly to cover up the entrance to the rooms that hold the AI.” 

Tango nodded. “So where is it?”

Walking over to a rug, Joe pulled it aside, revealing a trapdoor, gesturing for Tango to follow him down. As they descended, the walla went from pristine wood to cold stone. Tango landed on the floor and turned to see the room. There was a large computer with a few keyboards connected to it. 

Tango walked over to it, examining the lines of code on the screen. “This is it?” 

“Yeah. A perfect copy of Notch, in digital form.” Joe walked over and stood next to Tango. “It knows we’re here. Look.” Joe pointed to a spot of code. 

Tango eyed the code. “‘Intruders detected.’ How does it do that?” 

“I don’t know. Probably cameras or sensors. I only know a bit of code, so I never really did any deep diving into this thing.” 

Tango nodded. “I’m pretty good at it. What are the chances I can hack this thing? Surely it still has a lot of power. Most new laws claim to have come from Notch himself, so maybe...?” 

Joe nodded. “It has a digital signature that tells government officials that it actually came from Notch. Or rather the AI. But I usually just call it Notch for simplicity’s sake. As for hacking... I’m not sure. But you can certainly try.” 

Tango nodded. 

Sifting through the lines of data and code, Tango lost track of time. Eventually, he waved Joe over. “I found something. It’s a way to send messages as if it came from Notch.” 

***

The cell door slid open. Doc looked up, expecting yet another insufficient meal. Contrary to his notions, the guard was empty handed. 

“Follow me.” 

***

Doc and Ozzie were freed by the command of Notch, according to the warden. Still, Tango and the rest of the Hermits knew what really happened. 

It took Doc months to recover his lost strength. He complained loudly about it, but he was really just happy to be out of the prison. He was back to his favorite world-breaking redstone experiments in no time. 

As for Ozzie, he stayed on Hermitcraft with Doc. He eventually made his own house, and Xisuma became a father figure to him. He learned redstone from Doc and built his own world-breaking machines, making many friends along the way. 

Chapter Text

The story is technically over, but I’m posting this as the final chapter. It was originally written so my mother (who does not watch Hermutcraft) could understand what the heck was going on in my story, but I eventually added onto it so much that it pretty much became my notes. Most of it is stuff that was covered in the story, but there are some things that I just didn’t get to, so there’s some extra lore here. I thought I might as well post it in case anyone happened to enjoy it. 

The Server System 

The Minecraft world exists in a server system. People use devices called communicators to communicate with each other in the server they are currently in, communicate with people in other servers, and to travel between servers. Some servers are infinite respawn , some are hardcore, and some are creative. Most servers are infinite respawn, and hardcore worlds are rare and considered extremely dangerous. 

Servers are run by Admins. Admins fix bugs, enforce the rules, and ban griefers and hackers. Smaller servers (about 2-30) can work with one admin, but larger servers (30+) need multiple to run smoothly. Some servers are private worlds, meaning the only person living there is the Admin. A server cannot handle more than 200 people at once, or it will crash, no matter how many Admins it has. If there are too many entities (mobs or moving blocks), it could cause too much stress on the server, and it could crash. If a server crashes, everyone is booted to the world hub. The hub is a specific server created and run by Mojang itself for the purpose of hosting more than 200 people. A population limit hasn’t been found yet. 

Permadeath can occur when you die in hardcore, but there are ways you can permadie without being in hardcore world. In an infinite respawn or creative world, you can still die from old age or a naturally occurring illness (cancer, heart defects, ect.) that gets bad enough that you can’t respawn without immediately dying again. Most injuries can be fixed with a respawn, but some can’t. If the injury was inflicted in a harcore world or has been left for a long time without the respawn, the respawn will have less of a chance of fixing the damage. Another way to fix damage are health and regeneration potions. Health potions work best for injuries like stab wounds or broken bones, while regeneration potions are better for regenerating a lost limb. The longer the wound goes without being healed, the less of an effect the potions will have. 

Shortly after world travel was discovered, hybrids emerged. Nobody knows where they came from. After the first generation perished, that information was lost, as they didn’t tell their children either. Hybrids are humanoids with features of mobs. In the beginning, people hated and feared hybrids, considering them more mob than person. It has since gotten better, but hybridism does still exist in some servers. 

Character Lore 

Xisuma Void 

Gamertag- xisumavoid 

PIL number- 347-2 

Xisuma is the Admin of the Hermitcraft server. He wasn’t the original Admin, but he became the server Admin after the original Admin left. He has a twin brother with the nickname Evil X. Evil X isn’t actually evil, but he is significantly more grumpy than Xisuma. Xisuma had been trying to teach Evil X how to be an admin, just in case, but Evil X lacks enthusiasm for it and is subpar at it. Xisuma and his brother are Voidwalkers, who are native to the Void dimension. Only Voidwalkers and Watchers can access this dimension. Because he is native to the Void, the air in the Overworld, Nether, and End dimensions is too thick for him to breathe, so he wears a helmet that filters that air to make it thinner. Evil X has a similar helmet. As a Voidwalker, he has the ability to create explosions and summon purple fire that only burns what he wants it to burn. He is very protective of the Hermits. 

Grian 

Gamertag- Grian 

PIL number- 347-5

Grian is a parrot hybrid, giving him red macaw wings on his back, talons on his hands and feet, the ability to mimic people perfectly, and some flock-like instincts. He has an adopted sister called Pearl, who he cares about very much. He was the Admin of a server called Evolutions, Evo for short. That changed when the Watchers gave him an option- come with them and become a Watcher, or watch his server be destroyed. He chose the former. He lived as a Watcher for years before deciding he wanted to see his friends and family again. They refused him. Grian became more and more insistent, eventually frustrating the Watchers into destroying his server and kicking him out of the Void. After that, Grian hated the fact that he was a Watcher even more. He used his magic to try and separate himself from his Watcher code. It only worked halfway. When he tried to disconnect himself from his magic, the magic gained sapience. To avoid confusion, Grian calls this second inhabitant of his body Xelqua, due to the fact that Xelqua was the name the Watchers gave him. Xelqua is constantly trying to bring Grian back to the Void. Grian has more control over their body, but Xelqua has more control of their magic. Whenever Grian tries to use magic, Xelqua fights him, making whatever spell Grian is trying to cast ten times harder. Grian has a playful attitude, and often pranks the other Hermits. It is very difficult for him to resist pressing buttons, often pressing so many that he breaks the machine he is trying to use. He has been told repeatedly to not mess with other people’s redstone, but it goes in one ear and out the other. 

Doc 

Gamertag- Docm77 

PIL number- 347-4 

Doc is a creeper hybrid, giving him soft green fur, claws on his hands and feet, and the ability to explode at will. He only does this on infinite respawn servers, for obvious reasons. Doc was one of the founding members of REAG- Redstone Engineers Against the Government. They built powerful, world breaking machines that dealt heavy blows against Mojang. REAG was shut down after Mojang attacked many of the key leaders. Doc lost his right arm and left eye in the attack. The injuries were both inflicted in a hardcore world and left too long without a respawn or regeneration potion, so the mutilations are permanent. He is known for wearing an open lab coat with the sleeves torn off, and no shirt underneath. His right arm and left eye are cybernetic. His cybernetic arm is much stronger than his original organic arm was, and his cybernetic eye is directly connected to his brain, allowing him to scan his surroundings and connect to machines. He is a genius with anything mechanical. Doc is outwardly very gruff, but he cares deeply about the other Hermits. 

Scar 

Gamertag- GoodTimeWithScar 

PIL number- 347-3 

Scar is a Vex hybrid. The only physical change he has from being a hybrid is his eyes, which are just a little too blue to be normal. He has Vex-like powers that include mind control, mind reading, entering another person’s dream, hovering without wings, phasing through solid matter, and feeling another living being’s life force. He is reluctant to use his powers, as using them awakens the Vex side of him, giving him the urge to kill. He has only lost control of this urge once in his life, and he is still traumatized by it. He promised himself that he would never lose control again. Scar is a very friendly and generous person. Many people have a hard time believing that he is a Vex hybrid, as the Vex are some of the most vile creatures in the servers. He has not told anyone about how using his powers affect him, even Xisuma, who is the server Admin. 

Mumbo Jumbo 

Gamertag- Mumbo 

PIL number- 347-1 

Mumbo is a human. When he was 16, he joined a rebellion group called REAG. After working there for only 11 months, REAG was shut down by Mojang. His original family was very neglectful, so at 17 he moved out to live on the Hermitcraft server, where the Hermits became his new family. He is very good at mechanical engineering. Mumbo is a bit socially awkward but very sweet, and a horrible liar. He is one of the most level-headed people on Hermitcraft. 

Jamie and Simon

PIL numbers- 347-6 and 347-7

Jamie and Simon are two humans from the First World. They had neglectful parents, making the older Jamie the main caretaker for her younger brother Simon. Because of this, Jamie has great sympathy for people who seem lost or scared, leading her to help Mumbo when she found him. Jamie is also very resilient, fierce, and quick to anger. Simon is awkward with new people, and doesn’t deal with stress well. He’s also very sweet when he really cares about someone. After the events of Pesky Machine, they both end up with jobs at Convive. Jamie is a getaway driver and Simon does IT. 

Tango

Gamertag- TangoTek

Tango is a blade hybrid with fiery hair, blaze rods floating around his head, and glowing red eyes. He can summon fireballs and float, although very slowly. Tango grew up in the Nether, mostly being raised by actual blazes. His parents visited sometimes, but let the blazes take care of him most of the time. Eventually Xisuma found him and Tango came with him to join Hermitcraft. He’s a good redstoner and loves to joke around and play games with his friends. 

Joe

Gamertag- joehillssays

Joe was born in Nashville, Tennessee, in the First World. Joe is the spirit of life. Every living thing has a bit of him in it. Joe is close friends with the eleven other spirits. The spirits incarnate into living things so that they can interact with the physical world. Because Joe was born into the First World, the other spirits had to get him into the server system leading to the incarnated spirit of chaos getting his hands on a device that could teleport him to Notch’s server. 

Seip

Gamertag- Se1pStealz

Seip is the incarnation of Chaos. He’s a raccoon hybrid. He loves causing chaos wherever he goes, is a master escape artist, and has an affinity for theft and explosives. He commits crimes on a regular basis, but intentionally gets seen. In his own words, “The police chase is the best part!” Seip is commonly described as a chaos gremlin and adrenaline junky. Because of his chaotic and energetic nature, he hates sitting still, prompting the other spirits to joke that he’s actually the spirit of ADHD. 

Spiral and Raven

Gamertags- SpiralingToOblivion and ThatRav3n

Spiral and Raven are people that joined REAG around the same time as Mumbo did. Spiral is a human, who has a cheery attitude and endless energy and optimism. Raven is a raven hybrid and is much more laid back, but also has a tendency to look in the dark side of things. They both want to destroy Mojang and establish a new government, sticking to the principles of REAG even long after its collapse. 

Ottum

Gamertag- orange_ottum_leaves

Ottum is a human(?) who was one of the founding members of REAG. He worked at Mojang when he started REAG with Doc and a few others, so he served as a spy for REAG. He’s one of the most secretive of the REAG members, so people know little about him. Even Doc and the other founders find him a bit of a mystery. He looks human, but sometimes he’ll do or say something that suggests otherwise. He’s outwardly very grumpy to strangers. He is extremely loyal when he makes a friend, but he doesn’t make friends easily. When someone angers him, he doesn’t take it lightly, and will take out revenge on whoever did it. He makes an attempt to be peaceful, but has violent tendencies. 

Carni

Gamertag- Bl00dyCarnival

Carni’s current host is a human who grew up on 2b2t. She’s a brain parasite that infects the brain of someone who’s recently died. When this happens, the body is healed from whatever killed it and she takes control of it. Her current host was born dead, so she’s had that body for its entire life. She is very good at fighting, strategy, and finding loopholes. If there isn’t a loophole, she’ll just break the rule. For her, finding a loophole is less of a ‘technically I didn’t break the law’ and more about finding ways to disobey authority within its own system. She is a prominent figure in the black market, doing mostly pirating, theft, and selling illegal items. Carni has a few connections in the black market who know she’s a parasite, so when she takes a new host, she can automatically start again right where she left off. She maintains a cheery attitude to life, but when she starts doing business, people who make it out tend to describe her as threatening and intimidating. Many people can’t believe how dangerous she is at only seventeen. Her host is seventeen, but Carni herself has lived for five hundred and sixty three years. Very few people have her contact information, but Mumbo does, because of some business REAG did with her while it was still running. She loves the color yellow. 

Ozzie and Lemon aren’t my OCs, but ones I was given permission to use by my friend Alice. As she owns their characters, she also wrote the paragraphs below on them! 

Lemon 

Gamertag- L3M0N_5QZY

Carni’s 17 year old childhood best friend, who Carni befriended due to her bright yellow hair. Her bangs cover her eyes, and no one has actually seen them (no, she is not a stereotypical emo quiet kid lmao). She has tan/light brown skin. Lemon is a scorpion hybrid, and she has a venomous stinger and six arms. She usually hides the four extra arms with a device she acquired illegally which basically works by creating an illusion that makes it look like she only has two arms (*cough cough* for design purposes *cough cough*). Lemon likes breaking laws just because she can, and she does what she wants lol. Lemon is a very quiet and introverted person, to the point where people sometimes freak out if she even speaks. However, as she’s known Carni since she was five, she talks to her. Lemon likes deserts and badlands. Enjoys impaling people with her stinger.

Ozzie (Real name is actually Oživiť Kowalski) 

Gamertag- Ozzie_WizardOfOz 

PIL number- 298-1 

Ozzie is a 17 year old Gemmasoni, a creature that has a connection with gems, and make a high pitched noise to use echolocation to find them underground and they can eat them, and they also can heal/regenerate extremely well (they replace babies they find with their own young- their children’s cries are constant, so high humans cannot hear them, and loud, and considered to be more painful to hear than breaking bones- and then they shapeshift into whatever species the original baby they replaced was). He is desperately trying to hide the fact that he’s growing bits of fur and his ears look like those of elves. When he was four, he was kidnapped from his family and shot in the head, and survived and healed within a few days or so. So PIL took him and experimented on him. They cloned him and made his little sister Zabiť (Zabs/Zabby), who Ozzie was overprotective over and cared extremely for to the point where’d he get into fights over her. The experiments on Ozzie tended to consist of things that would kill most people, to test the limits of his ability. Eventually, because his sister was a clone of him and cloning tech isn’t too good, she got extremely sick. And Ozzie, going insane due to the experimentation (he would’ve been 15 at this point), decided to attempt to put his sister out of her misery. She’s confirmed to be dead. Convive eventually broke Ozzie out of PIL, and he got to be socially awkward. Ozzie’s a prankster, arrogant, kinda closed off, and is caring despite how he may seem on the surface. He also sleepwalks and tends to constantly have nightmares.

Groups 

PIL 

PIL is the branch of the American government that deals with the supernatural. Almost every country has their own version of PIL, some better and some worse. When a new anomaly comes in, they are first assigned their number and cell. Then they are interviewed, to get as much information as possible about them before the experiments start. The experiments can get pretty brutal. Once PIL is satisfied with the amount of information they have about an anomaly, they stop experimenting and keep the anomaly there for the rest of their life. An anomaly at PIL is mostly confined to their cells, except on Saturdays. On Saturdays, they are allowed to talk to other anomalies, but it is under strict supervision. PIL can hear everything that’s said, to prevent escape plans from being formed. PIL thinks it’s too risky to let them outside, so they never see the sky. The rest of the week, they are confined in their cells or being experimented on. PIL stands for Paranormal Investigation Laboratories, although Grian has taken to calling them Paranormal Investigation Lavatories. 

Convive 

Convive is a group that believes that humans and the supernatural should live together, in harmony. Many people live at Convive bases. At the base the Hermits were staying at, there are  about 200 people. Most of them either escaped from PIL or were broken out by Convive, but sometimes Convive finds them first. Convive breaks into PIL bases all the time. The people at Convive can leave or go outside whenever they want, but most don’t because it’s very risky. Many people who live at Convive end up with jobs at Convive, because they want to help other people like them or they just got bored. Convive was founded by a group of rogue PIL agents who thought that the government’s treatment of anomalous people was unfair and cruel. They are still running things. Convive has spies planted all around PIL, so when they got wind that the 347’s were disappearing, they made it a priority to find them before PIL did. Where PIL is specific to the United States of America, Convive is world-spanning, and has bases in almost every country. 

Mojang 

Before people adopted the server system, everyone lived on one world called the First World. Then a company called Mojang discovered the code that governed the universe. They invented communicators to get to other worlds and even create new ones to inhabit. People became so dependent on communicators that Mojang became the governing force. They made experimentation with world travel illegal, ensuring that they were the only ones that could produce communicators. They enforce laws by spying on players through their communicators, however this is easily circumvented by leaving the communicator somewhere else in the server. Because of this, crime still happens, and it is mostly ignored by Mojang, except when world travel experimentation laws are violated. Mojang cares about power and money first and foremost, and players second. The laws that Mojang sets very clearly favor humans over hybrids. Notch is the CEO of Mojang. 

REAG 

REAG stands for Redstone Engineers Against the Government. REAG was founded by Doc and a few of his closest companions to resist Mojang. They used their abnormal skill with redone machines to resist Mojang. As the laws of Mojang favor humans over hybrids, many of the people who worked for REAG were hybrids, although they still did get some humans who thought the laws were unfair, like Mumbo. When Doc and many of the other leaders of REAG were having a meeting on a server they thought was secure, Mojang attacked them, capturing or killing many of them. Mojang had hacked into the code of the server, changing it to hardcore. Doc barely escaped with his life, and he lost his eye and arm in the process. With most of its leadership gone, REAG struggled to stay together. They succeeded for a little while, but they inevitably fell apart. REAG is no longer in action. 

If you have any lingering questions about Pesky Machine, feel free to ask me in the comments!