Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Grian looked over the map he had spread out on the large table in the middle of the Mycelium Resistance’s base, hand on either side of the map as he stared down at it. The source block slowly pulsed, flooding the base with spores. 

He finally rolled the map up after a moment of consideration, strapping on his elytra and rocketing out of the base. He tucked the map of the shopping district in his inventory, praying that Scar wouldn’t find him.

The man gave him the creeps, to be frank. Especially so after what happened last season.

Grian swallowed nervously at the thought of the cell in Area 77, the buzzing of Vex magic against his skin seeming to haunt him. He circled high above the mushroom island, revulsion building in his stomach at the sight of the almost painfully green grass.

His eyes caught on the shimmer of the sun reflecting off glass, zeroing in on the barge. Maybe I can restock some stuff…

He landed in front of his shop, ducking under the barrier the H.E.P had placed on his door, and started rummaging through the barrels. 

He pocketed the diamonds he found, each one bringing a small smile to his face. 23 diamonds, huh? Not bad. He refilled the sand and gravel barrels a little, turning to leave the shop through the back entrance when he heard something.

Floorboards creaked behind him, and he tensed. His shoulders rose closer to his ears, hands shaking a little.

The walls were painfully white, searing his eyes-

His arm burned as they took a blood sample, crying out sharply-

He closed the barrel, heart rate speeding up. He tried to calm himself down. It was probably just an animal. Nothing to worry about. You are fine. This is fine. Everything is fine. 

He turned around slowly, reaching for his axe at his side.

The first thing he saw were those piercing blue eyes. The ones that haunted him most nights, the ones that seemed to pin him down like a dead butterfly in a collector’s case.

The second thing he noticed was that Scar wasn’t alone. 

Bdubs and Cub slowly came around Grian’s sides to box him in, Scar standing in front of him. Those blue eyes met Grian’s own, and the smaller hermit’s heart rate immediately spiked. He barely noticed Cub pulling out the handcuffs, still focused on Scar’s eyes.

His head felt fuzzy. What was he doing again? He was reaching for something, but he didn’t know what. His axe? No. Scar was his friend. Scar wouldn’t hurt him. His thoughts felt slow and blue-tinted, the mayor’s eyes suddenly seeming a lot less threatening and a lot more friendly. 

Scar cooed at him, motioning to Cub and Bdubs. Grian was momentarily shocked out of his trance by the feeling of cool metal against his wrists, Cub rattling out a seemingly well-practiced monologue. 

“Grian, you are under arrest for refusing to pay road fees and keeping your shop open while being decontaminated. You have a right to a lawyer, if you can find one.” Grian struggled against the cuffs, trying to summon something out of his inventory.

A shock of Vex magic flooded his veins, and he gasped at the electric feeling. His skin buzzed, but the sensation was far from pleasant. Scar nodded to Bdubs and Cub, and Bdubs took something out of his inventory.

Grian’s eyes widened at the sight of the splash potion, thrashing harder against his bonds at the reminder of Area 77, of his little cell, of them -

The glass broke at his feet, sending a puddle of potion over him. Grian’s knees grew weak, and he started to fall forwards. Scar caught him, too-sharp fingers digging into his skin even with his sweater on. 

The mayor chuckled to his two employees, as if they were just out on a regular work outing, and Grian’s vision went dark.

-

He woke up in a frighteningly similar predicament to Area 77- a pristine, white cell, devoid of any furniture other than a bed in the corner. Just one glance told him his inventory was empty, and his heart sunk. The only exit was the heavy airlock at the opposite end of the room, the panels made out of smooth quartz.

There were only a couple things different this time- a couple of light blue glazed terracotta blocks around the doorframe, probably amplifying the Vex magic of whoever was nearby- and a pair of cuffs were fastened around his hands. 

He hesitantly sat up, groaning at the wave of soreness that washed through him. His legs still felt weak; that potion must’ve been extra potent. He looked around his small cell, tucking the thin, low-quality blankets around him. 

Knowing how this went last time, someone would probably come in soon. Grian gripped the blankets tight, knuckles white. Scar just couldn’t let me go, could he? 

He sighed, leaning his head against the wall. He wished he was back in his base- back in the hobbit hole, with Professor Beak at his side and covered in warm blankets. Grian closed his eyes, wanting just to go back to sleep.

Wait. My base. My base, which has been next to Scar’s for the entire season.

He reached up to pull at his hair, to do something, anything - but the cuff on his left hand had been chained to the bedpost, rendering that arm useless.

“You’ve been watching me this whole time, haven’t you?” Grian said to everyone and no one in particular, chest growing tight with the dawning horror that someone was watching him, someone had been watching him all season-

There was a chuckle, a rasp of static through invisible speakers in the corners of the cell. The laughs sounded eerily Vex-like, taunting him.

Grian sighed, resolving to just stare at the door until he fell asleep. Before he knew it, darkness overtook his vision again, and he was gone.

-

Scar stared down at Grian’s sleeping form, the feed from the cameras staticky and pixelated. His blue eyes- for they had always been blue, hadn’t they, never any other color- reflected back at him from the depths of the screen.

He was only disturbed in his watching by the sound of someone clearing their throat, feet clicking on the tiled floor behind him.

Cub stood there, eyes downcast, hands folded neatly behind his back. 

The mayor grinned, face stretched unnaturally, eyes still shining blue. “Hello, Cub! What brings you here?” The man straightened his lab coat, avoiding Scar’s gaze.

“Scar, don’t you think this is a little… much? Xisuma might catch onto us.” The mayor’s smile dropped, disappointment in his expression. “Come on, Cub. Don’t you believe in your mayor?” The man looked down at his clipboard, thoughts slowing.

“Yes, of course, but…” Scar walked closer to his fellow Convex, bright blue eyes staring at the other man. “But what, Cub? Everything’s fine here.” He let a little bit of Vex magic seep into his voice, knowing that with the voices of the Vex in the other’s head it would be enough to push him over. 

“Yeah, yeah… my bad. Everything’s fine here.” Cub nodded, looking down at his clipboard again. “So, what do you have in mind in terms of testing on the subject?”

Scar grinned, too-sharp teeth filling his mouth. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this. And, I mean, who wouldn’t want their own personal Watcher?”

-

Grian jolted awake at the sound of the airlock sliding open. 

Scar stood there, in all of his mayor regalia- purple suit, ‘mayor’ sash, diamond monocle, all of it- and the image of it was so absurd Grian could’ve laughed. But he didn’t.

Cub followed the mayor, eyes bright blue. He was holding a clipboard and some sort of sharp object. Grian winced. 

“Why hello there Grian! How have you been? Long time no see.” Scar grinned, playing the role of ‘innocent mayor’ perfectly.

“You've been watching me.” Grian said flatly, trying to hide how scared he was. Scar giggled from behind his hand, diamond monocle gleaming.

“Of course I have! How could I just ignore your little secret that you told me last season?” 

The captured man inched away from Scar, trying in vain to avoid the mayor. The man made a ‘tsk’ noise, snapping his fingers. Scar started to approach Grian, Cub scribbling down something on his clipboard.

Grian turned to face the wall, refusing to look at his captors. His heart thudded in his chest from all the reminders of what had happened last season, how Doc and Scar had poked and prodded and experimented on him with reckless abandon. 

He hunched his shoulders, trying to appear smaller.

A rough hand grabbed his chin, Scar seemingly having come to stand behind him. Scar forced Grian to look at him, and try as he might, in this sort of state Grian was no match for the other builder.

Scar’s blue eyes bored into Grian’s purple ones, the Watcher almost falling into a trance. 

Scar had nice eyes. They were so… inviting. Like a nice pool on a hot day, or an ice skating rink with friends. Grian had no reason to be scared. Everything was fine when Scar was around, wasn’t it?

Scar cooed at him, saying something Grian’s head was too fuzzy to make out. Cub nodded, pulling out the syringe. 

Grian’s head felt syrupy. He couldn’t tear himself away from those blue eyes, from the warmth- warmth? - that seemed to be in the other man’s expression. Tingles ran up his back, like little fireflies under his skin. 

There was a slight prick in his right shoulder, Cub seemingly having used the syringe on him. But it couldn’t possibly be anything bad- Scar wouldn’t hurt him. They were doing this for him. To keep him safe. Yeah, that was it.

Scar glanced over at Cub, before finally letting go of Grian’s chin.

“Cub, did you get what you needed?” Fabric rustled- Grian assumed the man was nodding. “Great!” Scar clapped his hands, turning back towards Grian a final time.

“Goodbye, Grian! We’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

And for whatever reason, it was starting to feel less like a threat and more like a promise. The captured man’s head felt less fuzzy now, but Scar seemed nicer. Less terrifying. 

Grian drifted off to sleep with a bandaid on his arm and blue eyes in his mind.

-

Scar grinned down at Grian’s sleeping figure, the man having seemingly drifted off relatively peacefully after Scar’s visit. Silly little Grian. Threatened to ban me if I ever did this again… and now look what he’s doing, probably already seeing me as a friend instead of a threat. 

His grin grew sharper, more animalistic. The Vex whispered pleas and half-baked ideas into the back of his mind, but that wasn't the real reason he was doing this. As fun as it was to play the part of ‘innocent, clumsy Scar, always helping everyone’ he was getting tired of it. 

He wanted- no, needed - more.

And little Grian here was the key to getting that ‘more’. 

Scar was startled out of his inner evil monologue by the sound of Cub clearing his throat. “Oh, yes! How is the potion doing?” Scar asked, almost giddy.

“It seems to be working fine. He clearly had no problem falling asleep, and his vitals are still holding steady.” Cub stated, lifting his fingers away from Grian’s pulse point on his neck. Scar nodded, thinking. “Good. Do you think it’s working?” Cub hummed, hesitating for a moment.

“Yes, it should be making him more susceptible to Vex magic. But you have to understand, Scar, that he'll be pretty wary of you, especially after kidnapping attempt number one. It’ll take a little while.”

He nodded, studying their prisoner. He shivered in excitement at the thought of the thing he had seen in Area 77, but at his beck and call. His grin stretched impossibly wider.

“It’s all good, Cub. We have all the time in the world.”

The Convex grinned, taking one last look at the sleeping man before turning and walking briskly out of the room. Mayor Scar was a busy man, after all, and he had a town to run.

He couldn’t stop the glee that bubbled in him, a Vex-like laugh leaving his mouth. Oh, this was going to be so much fun. 

-

The days blurred together. Grian would wake up, met with either an empty room or bright blue eyes, and then maybe attempt to do something productive before inevitably falling back into the haze that had been plaguing him these last few days. 

He rubbed at his eyes, blearily blinking a few times before turning to look at the ceiling. The lights whirred softly, and he could faintly make out the sounds of redstone. If Grian had to guess, he was probably in a cell deep under the Town Hall or the H.E.P base, given the slight smell of the ocean and mushrooms that Scar and Cub always seemed to bring on their visits.

He sighed just at the thought of the men, exhausted. Why him? Why now?

The great mysteries of life. Whenever Grian had tried ro ask, Scar had always just giggled and faked offense about how ‘he couldn't even see his own friend without being interrogated’. Grian had eventually given up after the 3rd time. 

He sighed heavily, tucking the blankets up to his chin. Things seemed to be getting worse and worse, but also better? Scar and Cub visited often, and although it always filled him with a primal terror at the thought of what they were doing to do to him, what they did to him, there was a strange corner of his brain that saw Scar as a friend.

Grian was no stranger to Vex magic. After Area 77, he had made sure to study it, just in case anything like that ever happened again. He knew that the Vex were drawn to light blue glazed terracotta and diamonds, and that those things amplified their power- and, obviously Scar knew this, seeing as there was the ring of terracotta around the cell door.

If he had to guess, there was probably light blue glazed terracotta in the cuffs as well. 

He sighed. Everything seemed to be stacked against him- knowing Scar, the H.E.P probably didn’t even notify the other Hermits of his arrest. Hell, Scar could have Xisuma under his finger already- he was in the Hermit Environmental Protection agency, after all. 

He was tempted to go full Watcher on them, follow up on his promise to give them a fate worse than death, but these cuffs were no doubt enchanted to stop that. And even if Grian could break them, he didn’t like the idea of being in that sort of magic-vulnerable state around Scar and Cub. Even if Cub hadn’t used his Vex magic on Grian yet, he wasn't gonna push it. 

He really was stuck. Scar had something up his sleeve, nobody was coming to rescue him, and the very admin of the server might be under his control.

Grian groaned. Fuck. 

Might as well go to sleep. There was really nothing else he could do, anyway. 

-

Scar, honestly, was overjoyed at how this whole thing was panning out. It had only been a week, and Grian’s resolve was starting to break. 

Scar had planned out this whole thing rather perfectly, he must admit. With Xisuma being a little, well… extra responsive to his suggestions that grian was just on an off-server vacation, and all of the other Hermits engrossing themselves in their bases and projects, Grian’s disappearance had gone somewhat unnoticed. 

The plan would soon come to fruition. All he needed was for Grian to transform, and then it would be complete. 

The mayor adjusted his hat, smoothing down his suit jacket as he looked over the Shopping District. 

Yeah, everything was going just fine.

All that was left was to wait.

-

Grian was giving up.

It had been- two days? Two weeks? Two months? He didn’t know. Time passed by in a blur of white and blue, days and minutes and seconds slipping through his fingers no matter how desperately he tried to keep track of them. 

He was so, so tired. 

He laid on the bed, facing the wall. His eyes were wet. He just wanted to go home. 

When Grian got bored or tired, like he was now, he would draft letters. Not real ones- he didn’t have any paper, after all- but ones in his head, maybe whispered softly aloud in a sad attempt at comfort.

He would write them to Mumbo, to Iskall…

To his old friends from EVO, even. 

He reached up to wipe his eyes, deciding who he would ‘write’ to today. Maybe Iskall? Grian hadn’t talked to him too much this season, but he was nice, and they had been Architects together. 

Or maybe Mumbo. They had known each other for a lot longer.

Grian would write to anybody, really. He just wanted to get out of this hellish hole he was stuck in. 

Hey, Taurtis.

He thought. It was painful just to think about his friend, but Grian shoved all those thoughts in a little black box and locked it. He did not need more stuff to be sad about right now. 

It’s… it’s been a while.

I miss you.

A lot has happened when you were gone. 

I’m stuck right now. Bad people took me, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.

I don’t know what to do, Taurtis.

Should I risk it all or stay?

I- I don’t know, anymore. Of course, you probably don’t care about this. I don't know why I’m writing to you. I’m sorry. I just miss you. Please reach out.

Grian

Tears ran down his cheeks, both from the thought of the situation he was in and from thinking of his old friend.

I’ll get out of here somehow. 

I have to.

Chapter Text

He sighed, hands gripping at the pale sheets. His head hurt. Everything hurt, really. The cuffs around his hands felt like they were filled with lead, anchoring him to the mattress. 

Blue eyes flashed into his mind, cold and dangerous. He firmly shoved down the part of him that wanted to believe that Scar was a friend, conquering all the memories of Area 77 he had.

He locked me up for days, without my comm or any of my stuff. He wanted to experiment on me like I was less than human. He tried to sacrifice me to the Vex, for Void’s sake. He is not your friend.

A friend doesn’t do those things. 

Grian screwed his eyes shut, feeling a headache building under his temples. This whole situation had been stressful, and it seemed like his Watcher instincts were acting up because of it. The prolonged eye contact- the cuffs- the inability to see what was coming- it all built up to become the perfect Watcher-stressing experience. 

He sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. His wings and Eyes begged to be let out, an itch at the base of his spine that never ceased.

Grian sighed, and finally caved. Just a little peek at what exactly is in these cuffs won’t hurt. He hesitantly opened up one of his Eyes, sliding it to another layer of reality as easy as breathing. 

The small purple dot zoomed in on the inside of the cuffs, and Grian blinked. Huh. The inside was pure diamond, a core of what seemed to be Vex magic straight from the source flowing through it. The magic lit up his wrists in icy blue, contrasting with the deep pink-purples of this layer. This magic was wrong , in a place that it shouldn’t be. 

Grian brought the eye closer to the center, squinting at the miniscule runes etched onto the diamonds. Curse of Binding, Unbreaking III, Thorns III. He frowned, eyebrows pulled together in concentration.

That shouldn’t be too hard. The thorns will hurt like hell though… he winced just thinking about it, before getting to work. 

He zoomed in close to the diamonds in the center of the cuffs, sending a spark of Watcher magic through them. The purple-magenta magic quickly got devoured by the blue light, the diamonds seemingly glowing even more. He shuddered. That’s what could happen to me, if I’m not careful. 

He got to work teasing apart the runes, painstakingly shaping the diamond with little sparks of magic to undo the enchantments. Every move he made sent a spark of pain through both wrists, and he gritted his teeth as he tried to work through the pain.

Finally, the Thorns enchantment unraveled, and he heaved a sigh of relief. Now he just needed to fix the Curse of Binding enchant, and then he could snap the cuffs off…

His head snapped up at the sound of footsteps in the hallway,  bright purple eyes glowing even in the harsh white light of the room. His pupils dilated, becoming slitted like a cat’s as he slowly lost his humanoid appearance. 

He frantically kept working on the Curse of Binding rune, outer eyes looking towards the airlock while his Eye fiddled with the enchantment. 

The footsteps grew closer, sounding like someone was running towards the door. Grian frantically tore at the enchantment, squeezing his eyes shut.

The airlock opened with a hydraulic hiss , two figures stepping in. 

Grian sent out another Eye to watch them, keeping his human eyes firmly shut so as to not let Scar into his mind again.

The Convex looked mad. Dangerously so. 

Scar was wearing a wide grin, teeth as sharp and thin as needles crowding his mouth. His eyes were hard, like little ice chips in their sockets, and it was clear that his smile was not a friendly one. 

Cub stood behind him, what looked to be an electrically charged weapon at his side. His lab coat was speckled with suspiciously red stains, and Grian had a sinking feeling in his chest as to what the duo were doing before they came here. Hopefully the Resistance is okay…

Scar jerked his head sharply in Cub’s direction, giving him some sort of signal.

The scientist started to approach Grian, blue sparks of electricity weaving around the weapon. The Watcher swallowed heavily, terrified at the idea of the electricity. Grian was a lot more resistant than normal players- but electricity still hurt like hell, and it would disrupt his concentration. He needed to undo the enchantment now , unless he wanted to be stuck here forever. 

The threat of being Scar’s plaything for eternity helped incentivise him, and he started working quicker. 

The Curse of Binding enchant was coming apart under his ‘fingers’, the magic quickly unraveling. But it wasn't quick enough. 

Cub was close, too close, holding up the electrified thing- maybe a spear, or a sword, Grian couldn't tell- ready to bring it down on Grian’s defenseless body. 

Time seemed to slow, Cub raising the weapon as Grian frantically shredded the enchantment. 

In the last possible second before Cub brought the sword down, the Curse of Binding enchant finally failed, and Grian was free.

He took a deep breath, snapping the cuffs with ease by tapping into his Watcher powers. His transformation immediately started, the stress of the past few days spurring on his instincts enough to jump-start Grian’s full Watcher transformation.

His wings immediately sprung out from his back, all six of them fanning out behind him. They were a pristine white, a stark change from his glowing purple of last season. Grian had done a little re-working on his Watcher form in between last season and this one, when he was bored out of his mind waiting for Season 7 to start.

He was glad he had done it. He had remodeled some of his features to look more angel-like, as if he was some holy being descending from the heavens to save everyone. Or punish everyone- whatever one was more fitting. 

And oh, by the stars above and the Void below, was Grian feeling like punishing. 

He had kept his skin tone more regular this time, but some aspects were certainly less human than his previous form. 

A golden halo floated behind his head, like a constant backlight, silhouetting him. His face was covered with eyes, the eyes trailing down his neck and under his sweater to continue dotting his arms and hands. Instead of being 5’11, he was now 8’6. Eight white disembodied hands floated around him.

He certainly painted quite the terrifying picture, that was for sure.

Cub stumbled back a little, even the seasoned scientist a little scared of Grian’s new form.

“Scar.” Grian’s voice echoed, a slight reverb under his words. The mayor stood up straighter, Vex magic sparking around his fingers.

“You can’t win this, Grian. Even if you escape, nobody will believe you. Trust me, Hermitcraft has… changed while you were gone.”

Dread filled Grian’s being. “You wouldn’t. You can’t.” The Vex laughed, Scar’s eyes shining blue. 

“But, little Watcher, I already have.” 

Grian’s eyebrows furrowed. “That is quite possibly the most cliché thing I have ever heard, What did you do, look up ‘How To Be A Villain 101’ or something?”

Scar waved his hands, dismissing the comment. “Either way, nobody will believe you. You’re either stuck in here or you’re stuck out there- but trust me, there is no escaping the Convex.” 

The Watcher clenched all of his hands into fists, nervous and angry. If Scar really had taken over the server… well… this definitely wouldn’t end well.

Scar smiled, but Grian could still see the faint fear in his eyes.

“Does Vex magic still work when the caster is permadead? Guess we’ll find out…” He hummed casually, purple sparks dancing around him. Cub paled, before his expression hardened. “You wouldn’t.”

“You can’t kill a Vex.” Scar said, something a little crazy in his eyes. “Not in any way that’s meaningful. We always come back .” The mayor made sure to make eye contact with Grian, and the Watcher’s “heart” stuttered. 

“I told you, Scar. Warned you, even. And you didn’t listen.” Grian grabbed Scar’s arms with two of his floating hands, bringing him up so that his toes barely touched the floor. 

“And if you know anything about Watchers, you should know that they take promises very seriously.” Scar swallowed nervously, eyes darting around the room.

“Xisuma wouldn’t let you ban me. And he definitely wouldn’t let you permakill me.” Scar said, putting on his confident facade again. Grian’s hands tightened on his arms, digging into the soft flesh. The mayor looked at Cub, growing out a word in some foreign language, and Cub quickly summoned the electric weapon again.

Grian paid him no mind, focusing on Scar- a mistake he would soon regret.

The electrically charged rod jabbed him in between his “ribs”, and he screamed. The electricity continued to pulse across his body, making his wings shudder and flail.

He let go of Scar, hands hovering around his head. Spikes of red-hot pain shot through his body, and he screamed again, a piercing, unnerving sound coming from his very core. 

He was only shocked out of his pain by the sound of metal scraping against metal, and he froze up. Did they get more cuffs? Was all my work for nothing? Void, I’m going to die in here, away from everyone-

A wave of cold fear washed over him, the Watcher feeling oddly helpless on the floor of his cell. He heard the metal sound again, and dimly realized that Cub must’ve stopped the shocks. Electricity still ran through his veins, but Grian pushed through. He needed to stop this.

He staggered to his feet, eyes blazing with a nee fury as he stared down at Cub and Scar. Cub was holding some sort of complicated mechanical collar of sorts, and Scar was now sporting a pair of torn, crystalline wings. 

Grian’s wings flared out, the tips brushing against the walls of his cell. “You didn't actually think you could get rid of me that easily, right?”

The Watcher laughed, looking more than a little demented as he zeroed in on his prey. 

Scar almost growled, skin turning ashy grayish blue. Cub backed away, towards the door, the electrified sword clattering to the ground as he turned tail and ran outside. 

Two of Grian’s hands came up to grab Scar’s neck, mildly choking him and keeping him several feet off the ground. The mayor gasped for breath, blue sparks sizzling around his hands and then dying out.

“Trust me, Scar. You won’t get away with this. I don't care what it takes, but I will make sure you get banned from this server.”  

Scar stared down at Grian, something strange in his expression. Grian tightened his hands around the mayor’s neck. “Got it?” 

Scar nodded up and down frantically, motioning for Grian to let go. Grian smiled cruelly, tightening his grip even more. “Time to pay for your crimes, Mr. Mayor.” 

Scar scratched at Grian’s hands, but it was no use. In a couple seconds, his body disappeared into a puff of white smoke, spilling his items all over the floor. With a couple of keystrokes across the very code of the server, Scar reappeared in front of Grian.

The mayor looked around, confusion and terror on his face. “That’s cheating- that’s against server rules.”

Grian stared down at Scar, sick satisfaction on his face. “Nobody’s here to save you, Scar. Cub left you- Xisuma left you- everybody knows what you did.” The Hermits didn’t know- at least, not yet- but Scar didn’t need to know that. All Scar needed to know was that he was completely, utterly alone.

His purple eyes blinked open and shut, feathers rustling.

“I’ve planned a very special punishment for you, Scar…

A little hell I like to call Third Life.” Scar paled, slowly backing away from the Watcher, but it was no use. The door refused to open, and seeing as that was the only way out of the cell, Scar was stuck. 

“Have fun, Mr. Mayor.” 

And with those words, Scar disappeared. Grian sighed as he felt the tug of a player leaving the server, the Watcher surveying the aftermath of the… fight? Confrontation?

Scorch marks littered the floor, most likely from the electricity, and long scratches were embedded in the walls. It was not a pretty sight. 

Grian stepped delicately over Scar’s fallen items, only picking up a couple of books that the man had on him. Journals, he assumed.

He easily destroyed the airlock, feeling almost… dejected after what happened. There was only one thought going through his mind- Hermitcraft isn't’ safe for me. Everyone will know. Hermitcraft isn’t safe for me.

He wandered the halls, lost in his head. He needed to leave- he was sure of it, especially after what happened- but it still made him oddly sad. He slipped one of his Eyes into spectator mode, looking around the facility. 

There were a few more cells that were all (thankfully) empty, as well as a couple of research labs and some storage. Grian headed towards the storage section- he needed his comm to log out, and maybe write a final goodbye to the hermits. 

In a couple of minutes, he arrived at the storage rooms. Using a couple extra Eyes, he quickly located his stuff and immediately picked up his comm. He didn’t bother checking his unread messages, clicking over to the server chat and starting up his letter. 

Hello Hermits,

It’s me, Grian. You may have noticed that I have been gone for quite a while. I have not been working on a project, or on an off-server vacation- please do not believe any lies Scar or the H.E.P might have told you. I have actually been stuck under-

The Watcher looked around, using his Eyes to peer through the landscape. He went into spectator mode, seeing the familiar hulking building of the Town Hall far above him. He nodded to himself, before continuing to write.

I have been stuck under the Town Hall for at least a week. Scar and Cub have been keeping me captive under here and running scientific tests on me, for a reason I would prefer not to disclose. This is not the first time this has happened- back in Season 6, I was also captured in Area 77 and held there for a similar reason. It saddens me that my fellow Hermits could do something like this.

If you don’t believe me, dig straight down under the Town Hall and you will find the facility I was stuck in. Feel free to do with it what you will, as long as you do not use it to conduct more nonconsensual experiments. 

Because of these incidents, I have decided to leave Hermitcraft. It just isn't safe for me here anymore. I am truly sorry for leaving, but it must be done at this point.

Goodbye everyone.

Tears blurred Grian’s vision, golden liquid sliding down his cheeks. A couple drops landed on his comm screen, and he wiped them off with the sleeve of his sweater.

He needed to do this, as much as he dreaded the idea. He was done. These people- the Hermits, his friends- couldn’t be trusted. It was dangerous.

With a heavy heart and tears in his eyes, Grian clicked the ‘disconnect’ button for the final time.

He had thought that Players could be given a chance. But it was clear he was wrong.

Grian typed in the teleportation coordinates, trembling hands making him redo the coordinates several times.

If he couldn’t trust Players, at least he could trust his kin.

He was going to do something he had needed to do for a long time now-

Return to the Watchers.

Chapter Text

Grian pulled the blankets over his head, shutting his eyes and trying to go to sleep. Sometimes he would get lucky and Scar or Cub would shut off the lights, but today didn’t seem to be one of those days.

He was tired. He knew that nobody was coming- it had been at least a week, and nobody had showed up except Cub and Scar. He could’ve sworn he heard Doc through the door, once, but he didn’t know what was real anymore.

Most of his days were spent staring up at the white ceiling, fantasizing about getting out of here. But lately, he had been dreaming less of getting out and more of… he wasn’t sure. Scar’s smile, maybe? Being oddly proud that Scar was happy with him? His thoughts got all fuzzy when he was thinking about that. 

He hummed, trying to bury himself in the mattress. The pathetically thin blanket barely did anything to block out the bright light, and he was cold.

Grian tried to get comfortable, the cuff chained to the bedpost making it hard to move. He had just managed to get his arm under his head and lay relatively comfortable on his side when the door hissed open. 

He mumbled something half-coherently, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets. 

Someone chuckled- Scar, it was always Scar- and he and Cub exchanged a few hushed words before the blankets were harshly ripped off him. Grian curled up into the fetal position, shivering. 

There was some more laughter above him, then the whisper of crystal wings on the back of his neck. 

Grian’s eyes shot open, the man jumping up in the bed. His pupils dilated, the Watcher looking around frantically. Every cell in his body screamed run, leave, Watch , but he was stuck.

Scar and Cub loomed over him, both of them wearing sadistic grins on their faces. A few stray Vex floated around, carrying dangerously sharp iron swords.

Grian paled even more at the sight of the blades, eyes glancing from the Vex to Scar and Cub. He needed to put on a strong front, show them that he wouldn’t be easy to break.

“Good morning, Grian! We’re going to have so much fun with you.” Scar said, still smiling. Distantly, Grian didn’t think ‘fun’ was going to be a good thing.

 “I’m no stranger to torture.” Grian said, voice steely. “You won’t get anything out of this.”

“Torture?!” Scar gasped dramatically, hand on his heart. It was eerily similar to what he had said at Area 77, and Grian was half convinced he was doing it on purpose. “Grian, my dear friend, I would never hurt you. It’ll be fun!”

Grian scoffed, but he was scared. He was pretty much powerless right now, and Scar and Cub clearly knew it. 

Cub muttered something to Scar, eying Grian as if he was nothing more than a dead bird in a museum. The Watcher shuddered, remembering the injection that the Convex had given him at the start of his… unwanted vacation here. Scar and Cub had never told him what it did- but Grian had his own suspicions, and none of them were good.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a rough hand grabbing his chin, Scar forcing his face to turn to, well, face him. Grian’s eyes met with Scar’s blue ones, his heartbeat instinctively speeding up due to the eye contact as he struggled. 

A spark of Vex magic singed his sweater- a warning, a warning, get away from here- and he flinched. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do, Scar, but it won’t work.” Scar laughed, still never breaking eye contact with Grian, a short chuckle turning into manic high-pitched Vex giggling.

“Grian, Grian… for someone so old, you sure are foolish sometimes. It’s already worked. ” Scar spread his arms with a dramatic flourish. Grian’s eyes widened, mind racing. Of course- how could he have missed the signs? The glazed terracotta, Scar and Cub’s Vex nature, Scar’s way with words, the maintained eye contact-

He was going to become H.E.P’s pet. Their little plaything, their tool- all of it. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The idea made tears fill his eyes, and he blinked them away furiously. “Just give up, Grian.” Cub soothed, the man writing something down on his clipboard. The Watcher’s eyes stung, heavy metal cuffs digging into his wrists. 

“Think about it. Your friends left you. Your Resistance left you. Your family left you. Everyone’s gone… except us. We won’t abandon you, Grian. We’ll never leave you.”

And Grian knows this is all a trick, that they’re just playing with his head, but he can’t help but fall for it a little. It was true… his friends hadn’t even looked for him, had they? Impulse and Renbob had noticed he was off last season after Area 77, but they didn’t do anything to help him. Hadn’t even asked him if he was okay, even.

Nobody cared about Grian, not really.

Nobody… except for Scar. 

The Watcher shook his head, Scar’s hand having finally left his chin. He needed to be strong. He needed to hold on to the last dredges of his sanity if he wanted to survive this. He needed to survive this.

His breath came in short, harsh gasps, instincts roaring in his head and heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t stop this. He was powerless, a bird in a cage, a Watcher without Sight. He was going to either die or face a fate worse than death, and he couldn’t stop it. 

He only noticed that Scar and Cub had left when the airlock hissed closed, shutting with a heavy ‘clunk’ as it slid into place. His hands came up to cradle his head, tugging at his hair nervously. 

He was going to die here. He was going to die here, alone in the basement of the H.E.P, and nobody would know. Nobody would care. His fingertips, now sharp and pointed, raked through his hair. His head rested between his knees. 

It was only a matter of time.

Only a matter of time until he died or was made Concorp’s pet.

The thought made him sick, and his pupils dilated further.

It was like a ticking time bomb, the slow gush of sand out of an hourglass-

And there was only so much time left before it ran out.

-

Somehow, when he was sleeping, they had made the lights blue. Or maybe that was just his vision. Everything seemed blue or purple now, the normal red shade of his sweater having washed out to a dark violet.

They were messing with his head again. He knew that, yet for some strange reason, he found himself craving Scar and Cub’s validation. Their praise, their pride, all of it. He was disgusted at himself- of course he was- but the feelings wouldn’t stop. 

He was shaking, now. He couldn’t hold this off any longer. Scar’s words had taken root in his brain, corrupting everything they touched. He longed for- something. He wasn’t sure what. He needed this thing, needed it as much as the air in his lungs and wind on his face. 

He stared at the floor, sitting on his bed with his back on the wall. The eerie blue lights shone down over everything, painting the floors blue, his skin blue, his bed blue- all of it. He vaguely remembered a passage in one of the books he had read, long ago, about Vex magic-

In the late stages, the victim craves the Vex- they will usually gravitate to things that are blue-colored, or items associated with the Vex such as light blue glazed terracotta or diamonds. 

He laughed to himself, a sad dry thing. Useless, now. When the Convex are done with me I’ll either be dead or memorywiped, and all of that time I spent worrying and planning and studying and crying will have been for nothing. 

He looked up at the ceiling, at the perfectly Vex-magic blue lights, and cried silent tears.

-

Time blurred together in a spin of colors and shapes. Days passed, small moments of awareness between the never-ending grip of sleep. Scar and Cub visited, and Grian couldn’t help but perk up when they came. His brain craved friendship, craved conversation, an instinct too powerful for Grian to stave off. 

He found himself becoming more fond of the blue lights, of Scar and Cub’s pretty blue eyes, the blue-gray color of the Vex when they visited. He knew he was almost broken, was about to be smashed and glued back together, but he didn’t care anymore.

He sat up in bed at the sound of the airlock opening, turning to face the door. He was strangely eager- not for them to be here, but just from the idea of a person talking to him.

The airlock opened with the now-familiar hiss, the Convex stepping in. Scar was in full mayor regalia, and Cub was wearing a new ‘H.E.P agent’ pin on his lab coat. Cub chuckled at Grian’s surprised reaction, hands in his pockets. 

“Excited to see us, Grian?” Scar asked teasingly, the mayor approaching his bed. A small, deep part of his brain screamed yes , and Grian shuddered.

“Not particularly.” Grian said, but his voice wavered, body and mind screaming for him to say yes, yesyesyesyes- 

“Aww, that’s too bad!” Scar fake pouted, hand on his heart. “I thought we were friends, Grian, and friends enjoy each other’s company. Don’t they, Cub?” Cub nodded and smiled, grin too wide to be natural. 

“Come on Grian, will you look at me properly or will I have to make you again?” Scar said, but he made it clear it wasn’t a question. Nothing good would happen to Grian if he said no- that much he was sure of. 

With a heavy heart- not a heavy heart, Scar’s a friend, his eyes are so nice and blue- Grian lifted his gaze to properly look at Scar’s face, eyes flitting around his head as to avoid his eyes.

“Look at me, Grian.” Scar nearly growled, a hint of Vex magic behind his words, and Grian instinctively looked straight at his eyes. 

And in that moment, he knew it was over.

Scar’s eyes were just so blue , blue like sweet berries, blue like cool water on a hot day, blue like the waves that lapped at the sand on the shore-

And, really, how could he resist that?

Grian melted away like sugar in hot water, slowly at first and then rapidly dissolving in the blue pools that were Scar’s eyes. His memories, his personality, all of it disappeared like petals on the wind, raindrops absorbed into the ocean.

And in that moment, in the corridors under Town Hall, he was born again.

-

He opened his eyes for the first time- no, not the first time, he did this everyday- and looked around curiously. Where was he? Who was he? He wasn’t sure.

There were two people here- a short man wearing an indigo suit and gray-and-black striped pants, with a large sash on it that said something in strange words, and a taller man with a gray beard and a white lab coat speckled with dark stains.

The one with the sash smiled down at him, beautiful blue eyes glinting in the light. “Hello!” The man said brightly. “What’s your name?”

He thought for a couple seconds, turning the words over in his head. He frowned. “I… don’t think I have one. Not yet.” Xelqua , one part of his mind whispered. “Are you sure?” The suited man said, looking curious and delighted. 

“I- I think Xelqua was my name. Is. I’m not sure.” The man in the lab coat murmured something to the man in the suit. The man in the suit smiled again, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Well, Xelqua, I’m Scar and that’s Cub. And we’re in charge. Got it?” He nodded. That was right. He remembered it now, how Scar and Cub took care of him, how they were in charge and how he was supposed to do as they say. 

“What are you, Xelqua?” Cub asked him. And Cub was in charge, he was always in charge, so Xelqua answered. “A Watcher.” Cub nodded, and a tingle of Vex magic went up his spine. He was doing something right, and it felt nice. 

“Can you transform for us, then?” Scar said gently, blue eyes glinting in the beautiful blue light of the room. Xelqua tried to call upon the magic that licked and roared at the edges of his soul, but to no avail. He frowned. “The- the cuffs won’t let me.” Scar’s smile dropped for a fraction of a second, the man nodding to Cub. Cub pressed a button on something- a remote, maybe?- and the cuffs clattered to the floor.

Xelqua flexed his arms, massaging the area where the cuffs had been. He wasn’t sure what they were for- but they were there for a good reason, he was sure. Scar and Cub would never hurt him.

He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes. Purple filled his mind, and he embraced it. 

Six wings burst out of his back, pristine white feathers glistening under the lights. A golden halo appeared above his head, sun-ray like points fanning out from it. Eyes appeared on his face, arms, and hands. More eyes floated around him, eerily realistic. He was now a good bit taller than Cub and Scar- standing at 8’6, easily towering over the duo.

Scar gasped, Cub making a noise of approval. “I see you’ve gone for an angel theme! We can work with that… yeah, the crowds will eat this up.” Scar said, looking over at his business partner. “The Angel of the H.E.P does have a ring to it. The Mayor’s Angel, bringing curses and blessings to the masses.” Cub thought out loud, looking to Scar to see his reaction. 

“I like that! I like that a lot.” Scar smiled, and it seemed almost genuine. Xelqua’s wings wrapped around him, looking at his two- bosses? Masters? He wasn’t sure. Scar shot him a grin, and he smiled, tension leaving his shoulders. He was doing well. 

“What do you say, Angel? Ready to join the force?” Scar put his hand out, a sharper smile on his face, and Xelwua accepted- for what else would he have done? He was Scar’s, and he knew that. Scar was in charge.

Scar was in charge, and Xelqua was his Angel.

-

Xelqua had a routine, now. He would wake up in the morning, and look outside over the beautiful grass that now blanketed the Shopping District. He would get dressed, in the same outfit he wore every day- blue sweater, black pants- unless it was a public day, in which case he would put on his white robes with the fancy gold accents. He would make himself breakfast, and then walk down the streets (or fly, if he felt like it) to the Town Hall.

He would sit on the armrest of the throne, besides Scar, as he conducted business. Scar and Cub would talk to him, give him praises and the like. Then, he would go out for his patrol.

This was his favorite- no, not favorite, you hate this, hate murdering your friends- part of the day. He would fly over the island, looking down to see if he could find anything out of order. He would find a Resistance member or two, sometimes, and either dispatch them or carry them to Town Hall for questioning.

Then he would go back to his house, have dinner, and repeat.

Xelqua loved this. This is what he had always done. This is what he was meant to do.

He did this for months, watching the summer turn into winter turn into spring, and he was happy.

This is what he had always done. This is what he was meant to do.

So why did it feel so wrong?

-

The Angel stared down at the civilian's face, expression carefully blank. He had run into another Resistance member while spreading the grass on his daily patrol, and had quickly chased the man into the open.

His wings half-flared, casting a shadow over the Resistance member. The summer sun warmed his wings, casting long shadows over the rebel. He no longer really cared for these people- he used to feel bad for them, once, but no longer. They made their choice, like how he made his. 

This Resistance member had white hair and mismatched eyes, a black mask obscuring the bottom of his face. The Angel pulled out his sword- “a holy weapon for a holy creature,” Scar had said - the blade reflecting the rebel’s determined expression. The blade was pristine, being polished for hours every night. It had a gold handle, a diamond set at both the pommel and the crossguard. 

It was nearing the end of the day, and Xelqua was tired. But he still did his job- vanquishing rebels, purifying the Shopping District like he was meant to do- and this was no exception.

The rebel said something, a cry for help, but nobody answered. The rebel’s eyes turned to Xelqua, terror turning into… shock? They scrambled back, something materializing in their hand. Not a weapon, or a shield, but a small piece of paper.

Xelqua frowned. This was odd- too odd. The rebel wasn’t afraid of him. Why? His wings fluffed up, fanning out behind him.

“Grian? Is that really you?” The rebel said, looking up at the Angel. That’s not my name , he wanted to say, but didn’t. Angels didn’t speak- that was a fact Scar had drilled into him many times. If he wanted to speak, he only talked to his masters, and only in Galactic. 

He frowned even more, eyes narrowing. A corner of his mind screamed at him, this was you, Grian is your name, your name is Grian- and he could feel a headache building. His frown turned into a scowl. How dare this rebel try to trick him, try to tear him away from his cause?

He lifted his sword above his head, both hands on the handle, ready to strike down and bring this rebel to respawn. The rebel’s eyes widened, and they called out again. “Grian, please! It’s me, Etho. Don’t do this, man.” He thrust up his arm, scrap of paper in hand- no, not just a piece of paper. A photo.

There were five people in it, all wearing matching grins. The rebel- Etho- was on the right, looking over at a man in a black shirt with yellow markings. There was a woman with a sweater on, flowers in her hair- a man with sunglasses, smiling over at her-

And a man in a sweater, brown hair curling around his ears, holding the camera. Xelqua’s breath hitched- he knew this man, knew him, but from where?- and his wings slowly dropped from their intimidating, upright position. 

The sword clattered to the floor, ringing out on the cobblestones. His wings pooled on the floor as they drooped behind him, great white swathes of feathers. This- this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He had been serving Scar and Cub for as long as he could remember. He had never had a life before being their Angel.

So why was the man in the photo him? 

“No.” His voice rasped, hoarse from disuse. His body tensed- he had broken the Rules, he was going to be punished- but he forced himself to relax. 

“I- this is a trick.” He said, desperate. His sense of reality was crumbling. Scar and Cub would never lie to him, would they?

The rebel shook their head. “No.” They said, quietly. “The- the H.E.P. said you were missing. We thought you were dead, Grian.” Xelqua stumbled back, wings flaring. “I- I can’t. You’re lying.” 

Etho shook his head. “I wish I was. Gods, Grian-”

That wasn’t his name. Grian died a long time ago, in a basement under Town Hall, under blue lights and the Convex’s eyes. Grian is long gone.

“Don’t call me that.” Xelqua said, voice harsh. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, but your friend is gone.” The Angel said, tears in his eyes and magic in his mind, cursed to never forget and never remember.

He turned his gaze to the sky, before looking back down at the rebel.

“Grian is dead. He’s dead, and I’m here instead.” He pulled his wings in close and he laughed, a cruel, sad thing, reaching for his sword.

Etho looked- disappointed? Sad? Determined?- Xelqua wasn’t sure. “Grian, this isn’t you. Scar and Cub- they did something to you. I’m sure of it.”

Xelqua flinched. His wings puffed up, grip tightening on his sword. His anger was quickly cooling into sadness, despair threatening to drag him under. Blue eyes flashed in his mind. 

I’m not Grian. Not anymore. I’m too far gone for that, for the simplicities of Player life.

“You didn’t come.” He said quietly. Snippets of memories flashed through his brain- of a small white cell, of despair and labcoats and blue . 

“We thought you were off-server. Everyone did.” Etho said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

“You- you must’ve known at some point. And you didn’t come.” Xelqua’s voice broke, gold tears in his eyes. Everyone abandoned him. The Resistance, the Convex, all of it. Scar and Cub were bad- but so were the Resistance.

“Grian, I’m sorry. We should’ve done better. I should’ve done better.” Etho said, having scrambled to his feet.

“You didn’t come.” He rumbled, enderman-like tones layering in his voice as he despaired. “You left me there, with those maniacs, while you all twiddled your thumbs and talked about how there was ‘nothing you could do’.” His wings flared, Eyes narrowing at Etho.

“IT WAS TWO YEARS, GRIAN!” Etho yelled, talking a step forward. “Two long, empty years since we had last seen you! What were we supposed to do?”

And he stills, then, tears finally falling down his face. “Two years?” He whispers. He is broken, a husk of an Angel, not quite Xelqua but not quite Grian either.

And the Vex tug at his mind, begging for him to fall into the easiness that is his routine and Scar and Cub’s magic, but he refuses.

He picks up his sword, running his hands across it. Two years. Two years. Two years. His mind whispers, never letting up.

The sword breaks with a crack and the clatter of metal on stone.

It rings out over the island, the sound of an Angel being freed. Heads turn. People whisper amongst themselves what that noise was, who did it- Scar and Cub glance at each other nervously- the Resistance rejoices in their underground headquarters-

And Xelqua cries, gold falling to the floor, as he leaves everything behind, leaves the Convex behind, leaves Hermitcraft altogether. Etho watches in disbelief, in horror and happiness, as the Watcher disappears from the server in a blur of purple and gold.

And he is free.