《Memento Mori Leaves a Debt (you haven't paid it yet) [Hermitcraft Platonic Fanfiction]》


 Shard 01 – Your royal blood was never meant to decorate this sand

    The clear blue sky and the soothing chirping of birds greet Grian as he leaves the confines of the suffocating silence of the pitch-black environment of the End, bringing home his trophy of defeating the ender dragon herself, that is the huge dragon egg. He leaves his bed in glee as he runs towards his stuff cluttered in one place near his Nether portal, feeling his cheeks hurt from too much smiling.


    "Back from the End already, Grian?"


    Before he can reach his destination, he hears a Boatem member''s voice greeting him from behind, making him jump a little in surprise and making him stop in his tracks. He knows that voice. It''s obvious, especially the fact that five of them are literally living in the same village they created together. But why can''t he recognise and pinpoint the person''s voice? Doesn''t matter. It will be easier if he just turns around and sees the owner themselves.


    With that in mind, he plans to greet them with the same glee he experienced earlier once he sees their face and flexes about his cool dragon egg, and he begins to turn around with a smile plastered back to his face. Instead of the warm and/or mischievous smile that he would always see whenever he encounters a Hermit, he can see the all-too-familiar white bunny ears sticking out of the dark chocolate hair, a pair of void-like eyes filled with manic and bloodlust, and a smile stretching from ear-to-ear looming right by his face, too close for comfort.


    "What''s up, Gree-on? Did you miss me?" Sam greets with his signature casual demeanour.


    Grian jumps violently yet his cold body stays stiff in place as dread prevents him from run run run run run¡ª


    "What''s the matter? Are you so excited to see me that you''re speechless?" Sam raises a brow as he huffs. "Gosh. I''m flattered to hear that, Gree-on. It made me almost not want to kill you."


    What?


    "I can''t help it. If you hadn''t taken Taurtis away from me when you did, I wouldn''t have to do this. You understand, right?" Sam takes out a knife and twists the handle around as he tilts his head to the side.


    Grian should run away. He should or he''d die right here but his body refuses to listen to him and remains in place.


    Oh, gosh. He already escaped and survived that hell a long time ago.


    Not again!


    What should he do? He''s going to kill him, he''s going to kill him, he''s going to kill him!


    It''s high school all over again!


    Before he realises, his body jumps to the side and falls to the grass with his elbow, feeling a sting by his cheek. As he brings a shaking hand over it, he can feel the familiar sticky liquid dripping down from a drawn line. He turns to see Sam standing where Grian used to be with the hand holding the knife outstretched as if he just cut something, in which he did.


    It was Grian. Again. And he''s going to fear for his life, only to die this time.


    Grian tries to stand, but his legs feel like lead and even if he can manage to crawl with the help of his arms, he still couldn''t escape fast enough to evade certain death. So, he can only wheeze and tremble like being frozen in cold winter as his teary eyes stare at Sam, who''s gradually making his way towards him with the same grin he wears whenever he hunts his prey without remorse of taking a life.


    "You shouldn''t have stolen Taurtis from me, Gree-on. We were doing just fine living happily together but you just had to ruin it for me." Sam looms over Grian as he stands next to him, raising the knife over his head.


    Grian can only watch the knife glint from the light bouncing off it as Sam swings the weapon down towards his face in a blur.


    "No!" Grian screams as he wheezes, feeling his heart pound like a drum against his chest.


    His eyes dart left to right, only to see his cluttered items in proximity, large farms stretching far and wide, and unique houses that you won''t get to see typically in towns or cities from a distance. He can finally feel air entering his lungs as his heart begins to calm down, sensing the adrenaline leaving his body as he lies back to the comforts of his bed.


    Why is Grian dreaming about him now after all these years? He should''ve moved on from that hell when he came to Hermitcraft. He should''ve healed after being reassured for years that the dangers of his past won''t come back to hurt him.


    Yet, why is he still shaking like a leaf in fear for his life? Why is the lump gradually clogging in his throat as he stops the threatening tears from falling?


    Why is he still like this?


    The images of every Hermit''s face flash before his eyes alongside all the fun times they had together since he joined them a few years ago. The heaviness in his chest lightens in an instant as he releases a huff and cracks a smirk. They won''t let him stay dejected for long, huh?


    There are still many things he has to do now that he and his friends formed Boatem. He doesn''t have any time to dwell on the past and lie down all day. With that in mind, Grian rises again and begins to gather the tools he needs for this day.


    The dragon egg won''t retrieve itself, after all.


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    It¡¯s been a long, hot day since Grian has started gathering more materials in order for him to finally get started on making his own shop. Since it¡¯s pretty early from when they all settled in this clear and tranquil land, it¡¯s more difficult to set up everything one needs to stock up the sales, causing the prices to skyrocket with the labour and everything. Fortunately, he has his wheat farm to help him trade with the villagers to at least aid him despite the prices being a total rip-off in his opinion.


    But beggars can¡¯t be choosers, so he really needs to do something or he¡¯ll get behind by the other Boatem members.


    Well, he already is, to be honest.


    He¡¯s the only one who doesn¡¯t have a house yet. He¡¯s like a very rich hobo where he only has his baby chest monster to his name.


    Before increasing more of the junk pile, Grian spots a man with a tiny hat in the distance, looking more and more like a headless chicken considering how he¡¯s walking in circles right by his wagon¡ªboat, thing? With a chuckle, he flaps his wings and flies to his neighbour, plans for the rest of the day already forgotten.


    He realises just how huge Scar¡¯s starting base is now that he¡¯s standing right beside it. He lands gracefully with little to no sound as he has to crane his neck upwards to barely see the tip of the copper roof. He looks back down to see Scar standing still as he seems to be in deep thought, most probably about what to add or change in his base and with a grin, Grian walks forward with silent steps and stops right behind the scarred man.


    ¡°Hello, Scar!¡± Grian chirps.


    ¡°Oh, my gosh!¡± Scar jolts violently as he exclaims, turning back in an instant as he stares at Grian¡¯s direction with emerald eyes as wide as saucers. ¡°Oh! Oh, jeez. You scared the life out of me, Grian.¡± He exhales as he holds a hand to his chest.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I do.¡± Grian shrugs nonchalantly despite his grin still plasters on his face.


    ¡°Are you here to check on my newly-built Lanbo?¡± Scar asks after he sobers.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± What¡¯s a Lanbo? ¡°Your base is beautiful from my area, by the way.¡± Grian compliments as he smiles softly.


    ¡°Thank you!¡± Scar beams.


    ¡°How do you get in, though?¡±


    Scar becomes silent for awfully a few seconds before opening his mouth again.


    ¡°Since I got so used to using the elytra last time, you have to, uh, use the most inefficient way and scaffold your way up.¡± Scar chuckles and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way up?¡± Grian furrows his brows.


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you make a ladder?¡± Grian asks as he explores the space beneath the huge wagon with Scar following suit.


    ¡°I might make a water stream because it''s kind of steam punky so it could have like¡ª¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°¡ªlike a little water stream or something.¡± Scar explains from behind him.


    ¡°Ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous.¡± Grian comes back out as he deadpans, moving his gaze from the towering build in front of him to Scar who¡¯s now smirking beside him.


    Scar chuckles, ¡°It is ridiculous. Well, dude. I-It just goes with the, uh, with the tycoon costume. You, know...¡± He shrugs. ¡°I''m just an eccentric fella.¡±


    ¡°And a tiny hat.¡± Grian smirks as he moves his gaze at the small version of a red top hat on Scar¡¯s head.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Scar yells before snickering. ¡°Jeez.¡± He walks away from Grian with a slouch but chuckles. ¡°Get out of here. I''m gonna ro- I''m gonna run you over.¡± He walks back to where he came from as he declares an empty threat with a raised fist.


    Grian huffs as he continues to look at his friend¡¯s shenanigans. Before he¡¯s about to walk away, he now notices how dark the bags are beneath Scar¡¯s eyes, feeling a pang in his chest for a second for not noticing it sooner.


    ¡°Scar, have you not been sleeping lately?¡± Grian asks as he keeps his tone as casual as possible.


    "I''ve just, you know, been building here and there as you can see." Scar points a thumb to the wagon as emphasis. "Nothing new." He shrugs a bit too casually than he naturally acted earlier.


    Grian can see how Scar''s eyes look everywhere apart from his direction as his fingers twitch from behind his back. Is there something Scar doesn''t want him to know?


    "Ah. Been awake all night planning on your projects left and right, eh?" Grian smiles with a nod as he pushes the earlier thought aside.


    It''s probably nothing and he''s overthinking it. Scar''s not the only one who needs more sleep, if he''s being honest.


    "You can already see by my red outfit. A great tycoon such as myself will never succumb to rest until his businesses become successful in the end." Scar plants his fists to his hips as he confidently explains. "Well, those materials aren''t gonna collect themselves, so this is where I must leave you for today. Have a nice day, Gree-on!" He bows and slowly steps back as he waves goodbye.


    "See you later, Scar!" Grian mirrors the action and turns back to prepare his wings for flight, but he stops in his tracks as he senses something really off about the conversation. "Wait. What did you just say?" He turns back to confirm with furrowed brows.


    Scar stops walking as Grian successfully catches his attention and turns back.


    "Hm? What was that?" Scar questions innocently with a smile.


    "What did you just say?" Grian repeats.


    "I said ''have a nice day, Grian''."


    "Oh." Grian''s brows raise. "Okay. See you then!" He waves once again but this time, he doesn''t hesitate to turn back, bends his knees, and propels himself with a huge flap of his vibrant wings.


    "Goodbye!" Scar''s voice fades away from behind as Grian is getting farther in every flap.


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    Red.


    So much red.


    Red as an apple falling off an oak tree.


    Red as the roses that will prick you with their deadly thorns.


    His hand continues to hold onto the knife''s handle even if the blade has already hit its target on a teen with headphones and a short-sleeved azure sweater.


    His gaze darts from the blood oozing where the weapon is, painting the blue red to the unfamiliar face of a brunet who''s eventually turning pale.


    He knows that he should be worried about this. He knows that he should lament and apologize for what he did. Yet for the first time in a long time, the itch that had been constant at the back of his mind and inside his throat finally stopped.


    He finally lets go of the handle, letting the weapon stay in place as he slowly steps back, ignoring how the boy wobbles as he places his hands in front of him. They''re soaked in red.


    Just like the color of the crayon he used to color his drawings back when he was younger.


    Just like the familiar feathers of a certain person.


    Just like the sweater of that same owner of the vibrant wings that he longed to rip off feather by feather until nothing is left.


    In a blink of an eye, the brunet turns into someone with blonde hair. Familiar strawberry blonde hair yet he is somehow unable to recognize the owner''s face despite the familiarity.


    The same blonde with a smirk on his face when he did something mischievous.


    The same blonde who instigated a war through harmless pranks despite only joining them for a few months.


    The same blonde who he first thought was a bad kid back when they were young many years ago.


    The same blonde who started a war over mycelium with a smug grin on his face.


    The same blonde he pointed a knife at whenever he didn''t listen to his requests, ignoring how he shook like a leaf and cowering in fear.


    The same blonde he shoved his fist with by the mouth to force-feed the plastic to the fellow teen, despite his vigorous coughing to try not to choke as the tears soaked his pale cheeks.


    He screams at the horrid sight as he jolts forward, heaving for air as Scar clutched his shirt by his drumming chest. Despite his effort to perspire to receive oxygen, he somehow can''t breathe no matter what as his body trembles like a newborn fawn trying to walk for the first time.


    Why does he keep having these dreams about the terrifying things he knows he never did in his life yet still eerily feels like he''s the culprit of them all?


    Scar doesn''t want to hurt anyone yet the itch at the back of his mind tells him otherwise, not the same inner voice that usually tells him to annoy his friends. His eyes move from one decoration to another and realizes he¡¯s inside the bedroom of his newly built Lanbo.


    It looks so perfect if you ask many people, like how Grian did earlier. But for him, it¡¯s far from perfect. It''s never perfect no matter how intricate or how rare the materials he used since those don¡¯t matter for him. Tears fall from his eyes as he brings his legs to his chest and embraces them to try and replicate the comfort she would always bring him, but it''s never the same.


    Scar just wants his Jellie back.


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    Apart from the gentle rustle of the dancing leaves and the humming of the llama outside the wagon, Scar hates how it¡¯s eerily quiet in his new house¡ªhow he feels lonely without her. He really should add finding Jellie at the top of his list, so he wouldn¡¯t have to forget it with all the possible distractions. He¡¯s relieved to discover that despite moving worlds taking a huge toll on an animal, Jellie can somehow world hop with him. Unfortunately, he has to find her like how you find a normal wild cat.


    It''s a small price to pay, he convinces himself.


    With a sigh, Scar pours the steaming coffee from the pot to his orange mug with Jellie¡¯s face printed on it. He brings the cup towards his lips and drinks the liquid but jerks it away immediately as it burns his tongue.


    Oops.


    He finally gets to drink the whole thing after blowing it for who knows how long. He walks down the ladder towards the bright blue sky, covering his face with an arm in reflex to shield his eyes from the light. Despite all the caffeine he intakes, his eyelids are still as heavy as anvils. He¡¯s aware that it¡¯s not healthy to stay awake at night but he can¡¯t help but do so when his nightmares will always haunt him every night. He doesn¡¯t know what triggered him to have those recently, but he¡¯ll just have to endure it until it passes.


    ¡°Scar!¡±


    He jumps at the call of his name, snapping him out of his thoughts as he turns to see a gleaming Grian waving his hand overhead in the distance.


    What¡¯s this man plotting now?


    With a huff and a smile, Scar makes his way towards Grian¡¯s area that¡¯s starting to become a future chest monster.


    ¡°Well, well, well. Someone has been up early today.¡± Scar opens a few chests to see a compilation of various materials.


    Steal some coal.


    ¡°Considering everyone¡¯s progressing here and there but me, I have to up my game so I won¡¯t be left behind.¡± Grian places his fists to his hips as he huffs. ¡°I mean, look at your ridiculous wagon. And you call that a starter base.¡± He adds as he throws a hand towards the direction where Scar¡¯s Lanbo is located.


    "What can I say?" Scar shrugs. ¡°I¡¯m the best tycoon there is.¡±


    Scar takes a glance at Grian¡¯s appearance and averts it to the nearest distraction that is the van a few distance away to the left, reminiscing about the nightmare he had yesterday regarding a strawberry blonde person wearing a blue sweater and headphones. That couldn¡¯t have been him, right? It¡¯s probably just his brain making up things that ended up with him misunderstanding the situation.


    ¡°What¡¯s he doing over there?¡± Scar asks, distracting himself from pondering about a thought that¡¯s over his head. ¡°Mumbo, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Well, so... Mumbo has to replant every¡­¡± Grian turns to see what Scar is looking at and begins to explain, but his words blur in Scar¡¯s ears as he looks around the tranquil surroundings, until he stumbles upon a dragon egg that¡¯s sitting on top of an anvil to his right and gasps.


    Touch the egg.


    Scar doesn¡¯t hesitate to walk away from Grian and beelines to the magnificent purple egg.


    ¡°What?¡± Scar whispers under his breath in disbelief, barely keeping himself together from exploding in excitement.


    He looks back and forth between a ranting Grian and the egg, deciding whether to wait for Grian to notice before he messes with it or he¡¯ll do it right now.


    ¡°...replant them in the same spot.¡± Grian stops for a moment as he gazes in Scar¡¯s direction. Well, that¡¯s faster than he expected. ¡°Uh, you read that- you read that sign, right?¡± He points his index finger beside Scar as he asks.


    Scar turns around to see what his friend is pointing at and true to his word, there¡¯s a birch sign with glowing words that he can barely read as ¡°Grian''s super special egg, do not touch!!¡±


    ¡°What one? This one?¡± Scar turns to face Grian and points a thumb behind him as he confirms.


    Touch it. Touch the egg.


    ¡°''Grian''s super special egg, do not touch''?¡± Grian recites the words on the sign as his eyes dart between Scar and the egg with intense focus.


    This is why it¡¯s so fun to mess with his fellow Hermits.


    ¡°I know, but- but what if I touched it really quick?¡±


    ¡°Don''t¡ªdon''t touch the egg.¡± Grian insists as his eyes narrow.


    ¡°But what if I did it really nicely, like softly?¡± Scar smirks as he hovers his hand over the egg and pretends to continuously rub it gently.


    ¡°It specifically says ''do not touch''.¡± Grian deadpans.


    ¡°Can I rub it?¡±


    Touch it.


    ¡°No. Don''t touch the egg.¡± Scar ignores Grian¡¯s words and pats his hand on the egg without hesitation before it disappears and turns into purple particles. ¡°That- Scar!¡± Grian¡¯s eyes blow wide in surprise.


    ¡°Oh, no!¡± Scar nervously laughs as he looks around to find the huge purple egg, only to find it on the ground behind him and quickly switches into glee.


    ¡°Dang flabbit.¡± Grian¡¯s shoulders slump in defeat as he comments.


    Throw the egg into the void.


    Grian turns to his side, making Scar¡¯s gaze to follow and see Mumbo standing outside his van, and he hears the blonde declaring in confidence before he runs to the mustached man. He doesn¡¯t waste time in breaking the great news to his other friend with a smile like a kid bragging about their new toy, inviting him to do the same. The two of them hurried back to Grian¡¯s side and it only takes Mumbo a moment but he, too, joins in on the fun.


    The raven-haired man suggests tapping the egg until it teleports, making it a combined game of tag and hide-and-seek. It¡¯s all fun and games when Grian has to run back and forth to try and get ahead of Scar and Mumbo but failing miserably.


    Well, until Mumbo lost the egg, that is.


    Scar looks around Grian¡¯s area while Mumbo nervously chuckles, trying to lighten up the mood by distracting the blonde but fails miserably. When he spots the large black oblong sitting on the grass a few distance ahead of him, he sprints towards it as he declares that he¡¯s found it with a grin. He stops beside it to wait for Grian to notice as well and once he does, Grian doesn¡¯t hesitate to use a piston and a redstone block to help him pick it up safely.


    Throw it.


    He cheers at the accomplishment while Mumbo continues to nervously chuckle but this time, his tense shoulders and furrowed brows finally relax.


    ¡°This is why we can''t have nice things.¡± Grian walks away from Scar towards an anvil and lets it sit there once more.


    ¡°Genuinely, my heart actually sank when we couldn''t find it then. I was like ''I thought we had totally ruined your thing¡¯.¡± Mumbo narrates and chuckles midway, making his voice wobble at the last part. ¡°All right. Well, I''m gonna get back to my VW bus listening to Wonderwall. Uh...¡± He begins to walk backwards as he begins to bid his farewell while Grian huffs from Scar¡¯s left. ¡°I guess I''ll see you all soon?¡±


    ¡°Are you familiar with Wonderwall?¡± Scar turns to face Grian as he asks with an eyebrow raised.


    Throw the egg into the hole.


    ¡°I''ll see you real soon, don''t worry about it.¡± Grian smiles as he waves a hand towards Mumbo.


    ¡°Yeah, Scar never heard Wonderwall.¡± Scar turns to the right as he hears Mumbo comments with brows furrowed in disbelief.


    ¡°He''s got a tiny hat.¡± Grian smirks from Scar¡¯s left as he stares on top of his head, most probably the same tiny hat he keeps making fun of since the start.


    ¡°Jeez!¡± Scar snorts and looks to the ground as he walks away from his friends in feign disappointment. ¡°Dang it! That''s it.¡±


    Throw it into the void.


    He runs to where the egg is and taps it when he passes by, seeing it land on the floor where it exactly was earlier. ¡°I touched your egg again!¡± He yells with a grin as he can hear Mumbo¡¯s boisterous laughter starting to fade away.


    ¡°Scar!¡± Grian¡¯s voice squawks from behind.


    Scar wipes the tear in his eye as he continues to run away from the mess he made, the earlier predicament long forgotten.

 Shard 02 – Hear my song, I know I sing the truth

    Grian has been experiencing all sorts of mischief for the past few weeks with his new neighbours and honestly, he never would''ve thought that staying at proximity with the fellow Hermits could both be this stressful and fun at the same time.


    Everything that has happened so far at least makes it easier for him to deal with the unwelcome thoughts about a certain white bunny whose name he shouldn''t always mention.


    By not dealing with it at all and pretend that they never happened in the first place.


    Yeah.


    Seems like a foolproof plan, if you ask him.


    An image pops into Grian''s mind, about an incident that occurred in Scar''s base within the earlier weeks they''ve been living together.


    He stopped and looked at the poorly made wooden replica of his own face on the wall where he used to cover up the damage of the explosion. As soon as Scar walked in from behind, his eyes were wide as saucers as he gaped at the terrible sight.


    "Oh! Oh- What in the world?!" Scar yelled, jaw hanging in surprise as he looked at Grian.


    "Uh..." Grian averted his gaze with a huff as he scratched his cheek with a finger whilst Scar was looking at some of the damage to his floor, that were made out of Smithing tables by the wooden Grian from his peripheral vision. "There was an accident¡ª"


    "Oh, no!" Scar stared at the wooden face and exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.


    "I didn''t know how to fix it¡ª"


    "Oh, my gosh! There''s a freaking cookie back here! What the heck?" Scar intercepted as he chuckled.


    "That''s not a cookie, that''s my face!" Grian blinked a few times before he retorted.


    "Yeah, you look like a cookie." Scar looked back at Grian as he commented with a normal voice.


    "No, I don''t." Grian furrowed his brows as he mumbled.


    "You look like a chocolate chip cookie and a delicious one at that, Grian." Scar smirked as he moved his brows up and down.


    "I appreciate that." Grian stammered before replying as he walked down the ladder, leading him towards the ground floor with Scar following suit. "Well, basically¡ª" Scar snickered. "¡ªthe problem is, you haven''t lit up your base as per usual. And¡ª"


    "Excuse me, mister." Scar intercepted as he raised a brow whilst stopping on the ladder.


    "¡ªcreepers spawn in here¡ª"


    "It''s called mood lighting." Scar stepped down the ladder to face Grian with his arms crossed.


    "Moo¡ª" Grian chuckled. "It''s called ¡®mood lighting¡¯. It''s called creeper spawning." He imitated what Scar told him in a mocking tone as he fondly rolled his eyes.


    "Dude, I''m trying to create a vibe here." Scar stepped forward as he retorted.


    "Is the vibe small explosions?" Grian remarked sarcastically when he looked back on the deck filled with barrels behind him and chuckled, hearing Scar doing the same from upstairs.


    Looking back at that memory makes Grian huff fondly on just how chaotic that small exchange was.


    Grian stared at Mumbo who''s standing a few metres away from him whilst holding a flint and steel, after what seemed to be an obvious failed attempt at setting squid on fire to bend his own rules and keep his ''peace, love, and plants'' thing.


    He huffed and heard his communicator ring, only to see a new message from Mumbo.


    "''Unrelated note.''" Grian read the first message out loud. "''Do you have any ink?''" He laughed as he planted his hands to his knees.


    Speaking of Mumbo, that reminds him of a funny discovery earlier this week.


    Grian was minding his business, flying back and forth to gather the necessary materials for his mountain as usual until something red caught his eye. He perched on a nearby tree to get a better view, adjusted his new gold monocle on his left eye to prevent it from falling. He used this instead of his usual eyeglasses in order for him to match the theme of his G-train but considering how hard it was to see from this and how hassle it was to keep it on his face, he might have to toss this sooner than later.


    He moved his gaze towards the red thing that distracted him from his work, only to stare at it in surprise.


    Was he seeing things or was this what he thought this was?


    "Now I know for a fact... Mumbo has never played Among Us. But don''t you think his base looks..." Grian mused as he continued to stare at the layout on the floor that looked awfully like the red character from Among Us. "...a little suspicious? Did he do this on purpose?" He inhaled. "Honestly, I-I''ve been wracking my brains at some point." He glided and landed safely on the ground.


    "I''m like ''Mumbo''s never played Among Us and has never showed any interest in it yet somehow, he made this''." He walked around in place as he ranted. "It''s pretty su¡ª" Grian flapped his wings to propel himself and swiftly flew to his base on the right. "I mean, he called my base a couple of strawberry laces." He landed on top of what he started building to form his mountain and stared at the two red wavy layout lines on the floor.


    "Which, okay. Yeah, it''s clearly a path but then¡ª" He stopped himself as he turned to look and pointed at Mumbo''s layout again from beside his base with his brows furrowed. "¡ªhe makes this."


    Sus.


    It''s never a dull moment here on Hermitcraft.


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    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Grian flaps his wings to boost himself in mid-air but all of a sudden, everything goes black, causing him to yelp and stops progressing. He hovers his hands ahead of him in reflex until they reach an object resting on his face. He removes it, only to see a familiar crimson top hat from a certain tycoon neighbour of his. It must''ve been blown away by the strong gust of wind just a second ago.


    Well, it''s an opportunity to see what Scar has been up to and with a snicker, he swoops in towards a new wagon that seems to be a pristine white hotel with various things attached to it, with the man himself standing beside it.


    "Delivery!" Grian flies by and drops the hat above Scar, making his scarred friend flinch in surprise when it lands exactly on top of his head.


    Perfect aim as always.


    Grian''s eyes blow wide at the discovery of what he just saw. Scar''s roots are darker than his signature chestnut hair. Does that mean he dyes his hair? But what for?


    His excitement dies down instantly when he lands on the ground as Scar''s roots remind him of the same hair nesting white bunny ears. He shudders and vigorously shakes his head, hoping to disrupt the image in his head. He can feel a hand tapping on his shoulder, causing him to jolt violently and turns to the person behind him as his wings flare from his back, whilst his thoughts are filled with nothing but threat threat threat must kill threat die threat kill or be killed¡ª


    "Grian? Are you okay? You just froze and turned pale for a second there." He is met with Scar''s face as his brows furrowed in concern, heart calming down as his wings fold.


    "I-I''m fine, Scar. Thanks." Grian replies with a strained smile. "So, what''s going on with your new build? Did someone steal a hotel building and attached it to your wagon or something?" He changes the topic immediately and fondly huffs at the scenery.


    Scar snorts, "Well, you see I¡ªthat''s exactly what happened here!" He snickers. "A hotel owner is searching for their hotel at this very moment."


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    Scar blinks his eyes open, only to see nothing.


    Absolutely nothing.


    He tries to move his limbs and turn his head sideways to observe his surroundings, but he''s not sure whether he''s moving them at all. He can''t see anything.


    Is he even moving? Is he even blinking? Is he even breathing?


    There''s nothing for Scar to do but stay still in this cold void. Technically, it''s not cold when he can''t feel anything while he''s in this place, wherever this is.


    Okay, he remembers finishing building a new wagon, keeping the excess items back to his mess of a storage in Lanbo, and... Yes! He went to bed and rested after a long day of work! Whew, problem solved.


    No, it isn''t.


    He still needs to get out of this place.


    Wait, is he dead? Did something happen while he was asleep? That explains why he''s in the void, alone. Is this the afterlife? If it is, it sure is boring, if you ask him. He moves his head upwards to stare at what''s above him (at least he thinks that''s what he''s doing), only to see a bright light coming out of a hole by the pitch-black ceiling.


    Huh, did he somehow fall in the Boatem hole while he was asleep? Oh, man. All his effort of surviving this long (apart from his items) of barely catching himself before he falls to inevitable death goes to waste. He drags a sigh, feeling suddenly irritated at his situation.


    Seriously, what''s going on? What''s he doing here, stuck in the middle of the void or something? He can feel a slight pain in his forehead area, so he assumes that he''s furrowing his brows for a long amount of time. No, no, no. If he gets mad now, he''ll never get a clear head to figure a way out of his predicament. So, Scar brings his hands towards his cheeks and slaps them as hard as he can, only to jolt violently when he''s suddenly sitting in his bedroom.


    He''s... back.


    What just happened?


    He''s so confused!


    After the weirdest thing Scar has experienced in Hermitcraft happened, he plans to distract himself by working again despite his body feeling like he''s holding the world on his shoulders. He exhales harshly through his nose, scratching his head vigorously as he walks to the iSoar and buys himself yet another elytra. As he opens the birch door, he''s met with Impulse''s bright smile who currently has a huge purple bow tie.


    "Oh! Scar! It''s so good to see you! What brings you to iSoar this early in the morning? Increase your rocket stocks?" Impulse waves his free hand as he beams, holding a Shulker box between the other and his hip.


    "I need, uh, fresh elytra ''coz I lost my last one to..." Scar exhales. "...the Boatem hole the other day."


    "Again? Ooh, that''s tough." Impulse closes an eye with a grimace. "Well, you''re in luck! I just finished restocking my sales after another round of End busting." Impulse steps aside as he smiles again.


    What''s with him, being this gleeful this early in the morning?


    Flood the place.


    "Thanks." Scar deadpans as he walks to a chest to see it filled with elytras.


    Mess up the chests. Throw in some junk.


    Steal them all.


    Scar opens his Inventory Bag while he can hear Impulse talking in the background, fetching himself twenty diamonds in order to pay for the pair of artificial wings. Hmm, he should probably buy a stack of rockets now that he''s here since he''s running out, anyway. So, he gets another diamond before closing the small pouch and straps it back to his waist.


    He scoffs silently as he leans his diamond head cane to the wall and straps the elytra behind him, having a slight issue of doing it successfully when someone is distracting behind him.


    "Can you shut up for one second, candy man?" Scar yells, standing stiff in place once realizes what he''s done and twirls to meet Impulse''s wide eyes, tense shoulders, and gaping trembling jaw.


    Uh, oh.


    "Oh... Sorry, Scar." Impulse''s shoulders slump as he presses his lips into a flat line.


    "Impulse, I''m so¡ª"


    "No, no! It''s fine. I''m sorry that I disturbed you." Impulse intercepts and strains a smile as he walks backwards, hands hovering in front of him in surrender. "Well, enjoy your shopping at iSoar where the appearance may seem like an eyesore, but I assure you your shopping experience will be a bright one!" He fully steps outside as he twists his free wrist before shutting the door in front of him.


    He assumes there''s something more than a catchy pun there.


    Good going, Scar!


    You ruined someone''s day with your attitude. Should he apologize? He should, right? It''s the right thing to do in this situation based on his years of experience of interacting with people.


    But he didn''t. Instead, Scar beelines to his underground villager hall, improving each villager''s trades to drown his head with something else. From the corner of his eye, he spots the signature red sweater of a certain strawberry blonde man who''s wearing an ear to ear grin from inside the crowd.


    At least Grian''s magic trick perks him back after the unexpected foul mood.


    ©¤©¤©¤ ? ??¡î: *.? .* :¡î?. ©¤©¤©¤


    Another successful sale with the Swaggon because of a wonderful salesman such as himself. Thankfully, Impulse seemed to forgive Scar back at his friend''s unfinished factory after his unexpected outburst. With a sigh of relief, he limps to the bathroom (he can¡¯t have his cane getting wet and risks rusting the sheathed sword) towards the porcelain sink. His eyes blow wide at the sight, a reflection of himself (ignoring the dark bags circling under his contrasting bright emerald eyes from the overwork and definitely not from night terrors) with dark colored roots opposed to his chestnut hair.


    Oh, crud.


    He must''ve forgotten to dye them again. With the top hat, he constantly forgets to retouch them compared to the previous times when he doesn''t have an accessory that will completely cover his head. Before he realizes, his fingers are already between his hair and begins to pull them with a scowl.


    Why does he have this terrible hair? Why can''t he have a lighter brown color instead of this darker one that looks like poop? He envies his other friends'' locks, especially Grian''s when he''s got the lightest hair of them all in Boatem. He likes Impulse''s one the longest, which made him dye his own into a similar tone in order for him to forget the original shade.


    A man with a pair of white rabbit ears grins in his direction instead of his own reflection, holding a bloody knife with one hand as he fiddles with the wooden handle while his bloodshot eyes continue to make eye contact, sending chills on Scar''s spine.


    He shakes his head vigorously and shut his eyes tightly before slowly prying them open. When he stares at the mirror, the man before is gone and his rough reflection is back. He sighs internally.


    You''re imagining things again, he convinces himself.


    Scar doesn''t have a clue the exact reason why he hates his chocolate hair, but he knows that he doesn''t want to see it again if he can help it. He should also cut it now that he¡¯s here. He immediately starts to fetch the hair dye from one of his cabinets, a pair of scissors, a small container, and a brush.


    This is going to be a long night.

 Shard 03 – Here and now with my amends, the senseless killing ends

    For some reason, Grian seems to be giddy first thing in the morning, smiling uncontrollably the second he rises from his bed and easily (which is unusual with his track record) leaves to start his day. Is it because he has finally built his G-train? Is it because he''s starting to make the layout for his mountain? Is it because the Tegg is at its climax? Is it because he gets to link his build with Mumbo''s enormous rock of an armchair and create a gigabase with all of the Boatem crew?


    Eh, probably all of the above.


    His body has never felt this lighter in a while, so he''s quite happy with the surge of serotonin coursing through his veins. This way, he can work more efficiently and faster compared to before. He''ll never know, at this rate, he might actually be able to finish the back of things for once (maybe not, but there''s nothing wrong with hoping). With a skip, he heads towards an open space before propelling himself with a flap, soaring through the skies in glee as he flies to the mountain.


    Right before he lands, he can hear a ring from his pocket and decides to read it as he rummages through his new chest monster for the required materials. He turns on his ringing communicator with one hand as his other is getting busy and sees Scar''s name with a red number one circle logo, indicating that he sent a private message. He clicks it, showing a new message from a few seconds ago.


    < GoodTimeWithScar > Gman


    < GoodTimeWithScar > I need some assistance!


    < GoodTimeWithScar > I lost all my items by the beach when I almost got killed by Octagon goats


    < GoodTimeWithScar > But I''m back at the spawn area and they might be washed away


    < GoodTimeWithScar > Help!


    Grian snickers as he reads all the new messages and types as he flies away from his base.


    < Grian > fear not!!


    < Grian > gman is on his way


    < Grian > to save the day


    < GoodTimeWithScar > GMAN!


    Grian lands at the sandy shore and pockets his communicator, spotting the promised items flowing with the water. He begins to remove his shoes and unroll his trousers, dipping his feet onto cold water and shudders for a few moments before starting to collect the big hat, diamond head cane, a few copper blocks, wood, Shulker boxes, and more. Whilst he''s collecting, he notices a peculiar small circle and picks it up. Is it garbage? He brings it ahead of him, only to see it as a green-colored contact lens.


    Why would that be here, though? Unless... No, it can''t be.


    Right?


    With Scar''s stuff in tow, he flies back to Boatem''s direction towards the first wagon as his heart begins to skip. Why does he feel apprehensive all of a sudden? There''s nothing wrong with the possibility of Scar wearing colored contacts, surely. He bites his trembling lower lip as he tries to convince himself before finally landing at the porch, keeping all the things inside one of the empty barrels as he waits for his friend.


    Grian paces around the room, contemplating if he should wait for Scar to arrive or leave and just message his friend that all his stuff is safe inside the barrels.


    Should he stay? Should he leave? Why is this so hard?


    He hastily takes out his communicator and begins to type with quivering fingers, getting a lot of typos and no comprehensive thoughts getting across. A cold something lands on his shoulder, causing him to yelp and whip around as he clutches his communicator tightly to prepare it into a weapon. But all he can see is a grinning Scar waving towards him. Sure, he''s wet but at least he''s fine.


    Suddenly, his stomach drops as he sees raven and emerald irises staring at him, moving his gaze up to see a fully chocolate colored hair instead of the signature chestnut. He steps back in reflex as Sam speaks words that are deafened by the loud ringing in his ears, walking forward with a grimace as he reaches out a hand.


    No, no, no, no, no!


    Not again! He''s going to force him to do things against his will and snap at him if he won''t listen!


    But Grian''s body is petrified in place, unable to move as Sam plants a hand on his shoulder and grasps it tightly as his words are completely drowned out, making him look like a colored silent movie. He should stay as composed as possible, relaxing his shoulders and standing straight if he doesn''t want Sam to point a knife towards his way again.


    "Are you alright, G? You''ve been quiet this whole time." Sam''s dark voice that sounds a lot like Scar''s questions, surprisingly vivid from beneath the constant ringing.


    "Yeah- Yeah, I-I''m fine. I''m- It''s probably from working too much." Grian strains a smile as he manages to take a step back whilst hovering his hands in front of him, as if they''ll act as a shield when the time comes.


    "Oh!" Grian flinches. "We can''t have that! You really need to take care of yourself, you silly goose. Otherwise, you''re gonna destroy your health and body." Sam crosses his arms as he shakes his head in disappointment.


    "Sure, I''m- I''ll d-do that. Your items are inside the barrels and if you need any help just call me. Okay, bye!" Grian walks back towards the porch as he rambles, turning his body 180 degrees and flies away without waiting for a response.


    Grian nosedives as soon as he spots his house and crashes at the door towards his chests, when his wings finally give in from too much flapping all at once. He huffs and puffs as he uses the chests as a support when he slowly stands up with wobbling legs.


    How is this possible? All this time, the one person he''s been running away from is right under his nose, yet he didn''t even notice. There''s still the possibility that they''re look-alike or long lost relatives, but the splitting image is both uncanny and undeniable that the two are the same person. Should he call him Sam now that he knows or pretend he didn''t see anything and still calls him Scar?


    Should he stay as far away from him as possible before he can do something to him again? Should he suck it up and interact with him like there''s nothing wrong? Why is he here on Hermitcraft? Did he come here to look for him? Why is he changing his appearance? Is it to disguise himself and not look noticeable to the people who knew him, including Grian himself?


    More and more questions flood his mind faster than a bullet whilst Grian sways left and right as he gradually makes his way to the kitchen, rummaging through his messy chests and cabinets as he finds that medicine box. Once he finds it, he opens it and fetches himself a blister pack before hastily stores the box back to its original place as he gets a glass of water and heads to his bed. He flops down whilst popping two tablets and swallows it with the help of the cool water.


    Grian is fully aware of his terrible sleep schedule that''s caused by insomnia, but with his thoughts being this jumbled and still under the influence of a panic attack, he can''t tolerate another long day and sleepless night with more unwanted thoughts.


    Even if it''s still daytime, he lies to his bed and wraps the thick blanket around himself, hoping to hide from the outside world and suppress the wheeze as he closes his eyes.


    When it''s supposed to be a bright day of progress, all Grian can do is sleep to avoid his problems for the first time in a while.


    ©¤©¤©¤ ? ??¡î: *.? .* :¡î?. ©¤©¤©¤


    Scar stares at the mirror with a huff, realizing that he shouldn''t have dyed his hair in the middle of the night or disaster strikes. When the other Hermits saw his discolored hair, they gave him a boisterous laugh about how ridiculous he looked with darker locks. Of course, some were being polite and lied about him looking good but their repressed laughter said otherwise.


    This time!


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    He''ll make sure to use the bleach and dye his hair lighter than it actually is correctly. He stares at the chocolate locks with a scowl.


    Dye the Hermits¡¯ hairs.


    Oh, man.


    He really does look ridiculous with this color, especially when he''s so used with a lighter shade. He definitely hates this only because of how terrible the tone is and not just a gut feeling about despising it for a different reason.


    Change their shampoo into dye.


    Shush, inner vex prank voice!


    Can¡¯t he catch a break for one minute? Jeez.


    He¡¯s quite busy at the moment, so he¡¯ll really appreciate it if it stays quiet for at least one second. He¡¯ll make sure to prank his friends later, okay?


    .


    .


    .


    Thank you.


    ©¤©¤©¤ ? ??¡î: *.? .* :¡î?. ©¤©¤©¤


    The warm rays of the sun wipes the coldness away from Scar''s body as he places the lime Shulker box amongst the others, stretching his arms overhead and popping his stiff joints with a sigh of relief. As usual, the dreams or nightmares about living as a different person are still present earlier, making him nostalgic for an unknown reason and question about that certain teenager that awfully looks like Grian but sports a blue sweater, now that he realizes it.


    How come he never noticed it until now? This makes him a spoon like Mumbo if he hasn''t managed to put two and two together. He shouldn''t probably jump to conclusions, though. The kid''s probably a look-alike and a completely different person and coincidentally looks a lot like Grian, that''s all.


    Blow a crystal in Mumbo¡¯s base.


    He glides down and safely lands on the ground in front of the Boatem hole, staring at the crushing void that can possibly swallow them whole at any moment. Sure, it''s scary thinking about falling to his death with a simple slip, but when one takes advantage of this, it becomes a treasure chest filled with golden opportunities of pranking his friends.


    Maybe he''ll ask Tango for redstone help when the time comes since Impulse is most probably busy working on his factory to join him (definitely not only because there''s still the possibility that he''s upset with him after the iSoar incident. He loves the pun, though).


    Scar hears a click behind him and turns to see the door slowly opening, with Grian emerging from it with droopy eyelids.


    "Good morning, Grian! How''s the beauty sleep?" Scar grins and waves a hand as he greets.


    "Scar!" Grian''s eyes widen in surprise. "You''re- It''s¡ªfine." He sighs. "How a-about you? It''s a b-bit early to camp by the Boatem hole if you ask me." He closes the door behind him with a click as he walks forward to Scar''s left.


    "Oh, it''s nothing." Scar flaps a dismissive hand. "I''m taking a break from productive work before pranking Pearl later, that''s all."


    "Ooh, uh, already planning to spread mischief, eh?" Grian drawls.


    "It''s gonna be explosive, I''ll tell you that." Scar snickers as he continues to stare at the void below them. "Don''t you dare push me into the hole, mister!" He twists his body behind him with an exclaim as he spots Grian averting his gaze and whistles.


    "What?" Grian innocently complains as he chuckles. "I''m not doing anything.¡±


    "I know your ways, Gree-on. You always sneak behind people and prank them when they least expect it. You always do it at every chance you get." Scar crosses his arms as he turns back to the hole with a fond shake of his head while he smiles.


    Grian is quiet for a moment before huffing.


    "You know me... Just sticking to my brand and everything. Nothing wrong with that, right?" Grian''s voice is getting smaller as he continues to talk.


    Scar turns behind him and sees Grian slowly walking back.


    "Grian? Where are you going?" Scar tilts his head in wonder.


    "What? I- Uh... I need to- There''s just a l-lot of work needing to be finished, you know? The G-train isn''t gonna restock itself." Grian points his finger towards the messy chests and Shulker boxes as he nervously chuckles.


    Understandable. After all, Scar has been looking for a reason to procrastinate since he''s bored after all the progress he has made so far. He needs to have fun once and a while rather than overworking himself again.


    Hide the Shulkers.


    "Oh! Can I come? I''m just waiting for Pearl to come back from visiting Gem''s base, so I could enact my creeper prank with her." Scar beams as he tucks his hands behind and bounces the heels of his feet.


    "Hmm... S-Sure, why do- you can come. I need to t-take these first, though." Grian smiles as he crouches to pick up the Shulker boxes with the help of his enchanted diamond pickaxe.


    "Yes! Thanks, Gree-on! Take all the time you need!" Scar throws a fist above his head in victory.


    The two of them arrive at the G-train and Scar hums and sways left to right happily as he looks at Grian retrieving all those shiny blue profits, placing them all into his Ender chest before restocking all the chest with products. Hm, the radio silence is kind of boring, to be honest. He really wants Grian to talk about something.


    Oh!


    "Hey, G-man." Scar calls.


    "Y-Yeah?" Grian doesn''t look up from his work as he replies.


    "Do you have any stories to tell me? I''m kind of bored right now." Scar leans his cane to his stomach as he tilts his top hat to properly rest on his head. "I still haven''t found Jellie yet, so I''m feeling restless for not having her with me."


    "Not that I kn-know of."


    "How about some stories from high school?" Scar blurts.


    Scar doesn''t remember anything before joining Kingdomcraft, so he''s not sure if he attended high school or not. Since he''s planning to confirm with Grian about that kid in his dreams, anyway, so why not?


    "I... don''t want t-to talk about him- it." Grian''s mutter is barely audible from Scar''s distance.


    Him? So, he does know something.


    "Come on, Gree-on. I wanna know what happened." Scar whines as he taps the diamond head of his cane with his fingers in rhythmic matter.


    "No." Grian refuses with a low voice.


    "Pretty please, Grian. With a cherry on top." Scar pleads as he claps his hands.


    "No."


    "Just one couldn''t hurt."


    "No."


    "Pleeeease."


    "I said no, Sa- Scar."


    "Come on."


    "..."


    "Grian..."


    "No means no, Scar!" Grian yells as he slams a chest shut.


    No means no, huh? Based on his reaction, Grian and the kid are most likely the same person, so...


    Dang, it!


    Scar really wants to know! It''s really cute imagining a teenage Grian with his mischiefs. If he won''t talk, then he probably should use it.


    You leave me no choice, Grian, Scar thinks to himself as he feels the surge of vex magic coursing through his veins like a similar sensation of adrenaline, rushing all throughout his body and providing a new form of energy.


    "Why did you stop wearing the blue sweater, Gree-on? You look so good in it and everything." Scar chants with his Charm, where he can use his voice with a bit of vex magic to make his target abide by what he requests.


    Scar really doesn''t want to use this very much since he''ll end up with a sore throat depending on how much magic he imbues into his voice, increasing or decreasing the success rate between the number of people one at a time or all at once.


    "Because it''s not my clothes!" Grian yells as he clutches his red sweater with a hand by the chest area, body glowing slightly blue with the help of Scar''s eyesight that can easily detect the usage of vex magic either from his own or other fellow vexes.


    "But you look so good in it! It is such a waste if you ask me, Grian." Scar crosses his arms in disappointment as he prods.


    "I don''t want to wear that thing again!"


    "You look¡ª"


    "Stop what you were doing, Scar." A voice reverberates while someone grabs Scar by his wrist, deactivating his magic entirely with a simple chant like instantly cutting off a redstone connection with water.


    Scar turns his head to see none other than Cubfan himself, who''s currently pulling him away from the G-train with a scowl.


    "Cub? What¡ª"


    "Shush, Scar." Cub intercepts as he turns his head to the side. "I apologize for the trouble Scar has caused you, Grian. I already DMed Mumbo, so he should be on his way here." He confesses before turning back to Scar and focuses on pulling him away.


    Cub has finally let go of Scar''s wrist when they arrived at the artificial orange canyon that Cub himself created.


    "Scar, what was that earlier?" Cub furrows his brows as his voice raises an octave.


    "What do you mean? We were just talking." Scar taps his cane to the ground as he answers.


    "You used your magic on Grian!" Cub yells as he throws a hand towards the horizon behind Scar, probably Boatem''s direction.


    "So? We''ve always used magic towards the Hermits." Scar furrows his brows in confusion.


    "Wha¡ª? You used it with the others?" Cub''s jaw gapes as he stares at Scar with wide pine eyes.


    "Y-Yes." Scar averts his gaze to the side, suddenly feeling weird for saying that. "Don''t- Don''t you use them on the Hermits?"


    "No, Scar! Because they''re my friends!" Cub inhales and exhales deeply before his shoulders slump, standing back straight as he regains his composure. "When did you start using magic towards them?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.


    "Uh... I think i-it was... during the Mayoral election, I think. I-I used a bit of it to s-some Hermits to convince them to vote f-for me." Scar fiddles with the diamond head of his cane as he stammers.


    "Okay. That kind of explains a lot. At least it was more recent than I thought. How many times did you use it?" Cub sighs in relief as he tucks his hands into his pants pockets.


    "Including earlier... I think three times. One during the election, and last to recruit HEP members." Scar counts his fingers as he muses.


    Scar definitely should apologize for this one, right? He made Cub mad, which is very unusual since the guy is always calm and carefree, until now that is.


    "I''m so sorry, Cub."


    "Sorry, Scar."


    Both stare at each other after realizing they apologize together, loosening the tension a bit as they crack a smile.


    Push him to the stalagmites.


    "I forgive you, Scar. I should have told you about vexes more instead of yelling at your face. I do apologize for that. That was pretty terrible of me to do that." Cub fixes his necktie as he stares at Scar''s direction with a solemn expression.


    "I also forgive you, Cub. I didn''t think of the consequences of my actions and should''ve asked for you." Scar rubs the back of his neck as he chuckles unamusingly. "By the way, what happens when you use vex magic towards other people?"


    "Well, if they''re not a vex, there''s a chance that you''ll eventually succumb to the hunger of feeding with their dormant magic or life force. And you risk killing them or turning them into vex as well. Like you did."


    Drop a dripstone above Cub¡¯s head.


    "Oh..." Scar presses his lips into a flat line. "That was really stupid of me, then." He reaches for his chest with a trembling hand as he deadpans.


    "Nah, you''re okay. As long as you learn from your mistakes and apologize¡ª" Cub gestures a hand at the direction behind Scar. "¡ªthen you''re okay."


    "Thank you, by the way. For today and for everything." Scar genuinely smiles.


    "That''s what friends are for. Now go and be with your friends. There''s nothing for you here to do anymore." Cub throws his hands ahead of him in a shooing motion as he chuckles.


    "Bye, Cub!" Scar waves his hand as he runs away from Cub, not turning back to see his reaction as he snickers.


    "Bye, Scar!" Cub''s voice is gradually fading as Scar fires a firework rocket and propels himself mid-air, flying towards Boatem with determination.

 Shard 04 – Although we were bred to fight, I reach for kindness in your heart tonight

    Scar''s eyes glow cyan from under the contact lenses, forming a drop shadow or outline around them instead. An invisible force feels like it''s wrapping its long jagged claws around Grian''s neck, tightening its hold to close his oesophagus from the outside. Despite there''s nothing choking him, his ragged gasps and wheezes say otherwise as oxygen refuses to enter his lungs. His heart constricts the longer he''s been controlled, everything begins to blur with unshed tears.


    He''s supposed to have his emotions under control. He''s supposed to hide what he truly feels from the world since he''s been successful all this time. He¡¯s managed to pretend to be a tree for an hour with Mumbo and Tango to scare Cub and Scar, having a good laugh in the end. He''s managed to hold a Boatem meeting and explode each other with eggs and End crystals.


    He''s managed to survive helping Scar getting out of the inescapable bedrock box he somehow put himself in, and transport charged creepers multiple times to his Magical Menagerie with no issue, finding and giving Jellie back to her owner after so long in the end. But then...


    How come he can''t hold it all in when a friend just used a stupid vex magic to try and get him to talk about a topic he never wanted to dwell on?


    The incident ended with Scar apologising for what he did and as a good friend, Grian expressed his forgiveness even if it''s reluctantly (but obviously he never showed it in his face). He still has mixed feelings after all that, apparently. Why can''t he just suck it up and move on?


    Is that too much to ask?


    Once again, Taurtis jolts violently awake after another nightmare regarding his past despite having to drink four tablets at once about three hours ago, based on his wall clock. He stares blankly at the window and rubs his eyelids awake, seeing that the sun has started to rise from the horizon. With a sigh, he walks out of bed and changes into his regular clothes before grabbing himself a piece of bread at a snail''s pace.


    He begins to fly towards a small opening that will lead him to his underground trading hall, stumbling forward to a wall as he lands a bit roughly compared to usual. With a yawn, he gathers a few emeralds and starts to trade in order to get the necessary materials he needs to restock his G-train. He trips on a few chests as he glides his way back to the villagers, earning a couple of concerned looks from them, but he shrugs it off and finishes trading to fill his last two Shulker boxes with redstone comparators.


    Taurtis leans his back against the piled boxes and sits down, gasping to catch his breath as he brings his legs to his chest, embracing them as he rests his heavy forehead to his knees. This is why he hates using sleeping pills. On one hand, he loves that he can use it to sleep when his body refuses to but the side effects are killing him. He takes a small peak towards the wall and sees it dancing before his eyes.


    He drags a sigh and huffs as he slowly stands back up, taking the Shulker boxes and placing them in his Inventory Bag before exiting the hall. Instead of flying, he decides to walk very, very slowly with unsteady legs as everything spins around him. He can''t trust his wings to properly lift him off the ground at the moment.


    "Grian..."


    Once he arrives, he starts to retrieve the diamonds and keeps them in his Ender chest. He unpacks the boxes and places the hoppers into its proper chest. He can''t restock some of the products right now, especially the cobbled deepslate since his body feels so sluggish and tired, so he doesn''t have enough patience to mine for two or so hours.


    "Grian..."


    The red jumper is caught in his eye, making Taurtis stop and look down whilst stretching the hem to have a better look at his current clothing.


    Oh, it is red.


    "Grian..."


    He might want to change out of this if he doesn''t want Sam to get mad at him again. So far, he''s been in a good mood and he can''t risk one wrong wardrobe to flip that in the blink of an eye. He bites his lower lip, hoping that he can wear this for at least a little longer.


    "Grian?"


    Taurtis really likes his red jumper, but if Sam says ''no'', then he has no choice about the matter. The lump clogs the entrance of his throat as he pushes back the urge to cry. No, not now. He can''t afford to let Sam see him be vulnerable or it''s the sharp end of the knife for him.


    "Grian!"


    His vision begins to blur as a sob escapes his lips, making him wipe the tears away vigorously with a sleeve.


    "Grian!"


    He flinches violently as a familiar voice calls out to his¡ªthat name. Is that even his name? Should he still call himself Taurtis? He''s not sure anymore. He slowly moves the arm away from his soaked cheeks as he turns around with a grimace, only to see a gaping Mumbo whose glassy raven eyes are seconds before tearing up.


    "Grian? A-Are you okay?" Mumbo''s voice wavers in concern as he clutches his tie tightly with both hands.


    "Do¡ªDo I still deserve to be called ''Grian''?" Taurtis bites the back of his cheeks as he forces back the urge to cry again, tightening his hold on his arms as he embraces himself.


    "Wha- Yes? Why d-do you think you don''t d-deserve it, dude? I-It is your name." Mumbo stammers as he hovers a hand ahead of him as if to reach out to Gri- Taurtis.


    "It''s¡ªThey..." His breath is caught in his throat. "...E-Everyone has been c-calling me ''Taurtis'' and never- it''s been so, so long since people have b-been calling me by that old name." He gasps as he lowers his head and bites his lower lip enough to draw blood in shame.


    What does that mean?


    What does Grian mean by that? Everyone has been calling him by his name all this time, though. Is anyone calling him different things without Mumbo knowing? Is someone actually bullying his best friend without his knowledge despite literally living next to each other?


    Some friend he is.


    He''ll make sure to get to the bottom of this and find the culprit, who thinks they can hurt Grian just because he cares about every Hermit so much that he''ll beat himself up despite not being at fault. He has seen enough of his friend''s suffering and he can''t afford to let him drift further away like this.


    "W-Why would they c-call you ''Taurtis'', Grian?" Mumbo clenches his fists to his sides as he prods, ignoring how his voice cracks in the end.


    "It''s..." Grian tightens his hold on his arms that his nails begin to dig through his jumper. "They''re afraid of what Sca- Sam might do to them." He mutters, barely a whisper like he''s scared someone might hear him.


    Mumbo doesn''t miss the name change at the last minute, keeping in mind that he needs to have a word with mister Goodtimes later.


    Why would Scar do this to Grian, though?


    They were getting along so much with how their personalities just mix well together, despite the short amount of time they''ve encountered.


    What changed?


    "I can assure you, G, that no one will hurt you for using your real name. If you''d like, I will do it right here, right now. N-No matter how many times you need before you''re satisfied, okay?" Mumbo rests a hand on Grian''s shoulder as he reassures, ignoring how Grian jumps at the hold but luckily doesn''t shy away from it.


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    "Are- Are you sure? He- he might..." Grian stares at him with wide, hopeful eyes.


    "Yes, Grian. This may sound ridiculous, Grian. But I''ll call your name as much as you want me to, Grian. How does that sound, Grian?" Mumbo recites over and over, chuckling at the last part for how ridiculous he sounds.


    Grian huffs shortly after, finally relaxing his shoulders and his hold on his arms as he holds his stomach with both hands.


    "You''re right. You do sound ridiculous." Grian laughs quietly.


    "Should I do it again, Grian? This might turn into a weird habit, Grian. Grian, I can''t stop! At this rate, Grian, all I can say for the next few months is Grian." Mumbo rests a palm on his forehead as he laughs, hearing Grian join with his signature high-pitched one.


    After a few minutes of splitting their sides, they both wipe the tears away and part ways. Mumbo takes out his communicator, scrolling down to find Scar''s name in the contacts. Just as he''s about to click it, he jumps at the sudden ring and opens it to see Iskall asking for help regarding his redstone.


    Mumbo replies his affirmation and propels himself to the skies as he heads to Iskall and Etho''s base, completely forgetting his goal without him realising it.


    ©¤©¤©¤ ? ??¡î: *.? .* :¡î?. ©¤©¤©¤


    Jellie purrs as she snuggles on Scar''s chest while scratching behind her ears, walking around his large wagons to appreciate the progress he''s made since the start that blends surprisingly well with nature. He gently places his beloved to the grass, letting her run around to get some exercise as he flies towards the Big Eyes Crew.


    Once he arrives at the city by the ocean, he swirls around in the sky as he looks for a certain blonde. Oh! Why didn''t he think of messaging him beforehand? He slaps himself on the forehead at the realization and digs for his communicator by his jacket''s inner pocket, typing his greetings to Tango and asking where they can meet.


    A few seconds later, a ring can be heard and quickly reads the reply (as fast as his dyslexia can handle). Without any time to waste, he flies to Tango''s house where he sells his copper and candles. He doesn''t need to worry about missing it considering how he''s one of the most frequent customers when it comes to copper. As promised, he sees Tango emerging from the door and gives him a big wave.


    "Hello, Tango! It''s so nice to see you!" Scar greets as he lands in front of the flight of stairs.


    "Hey, Scar! What brings you here in my shop? Do you want a special bulk order of my copper?" Tango walks down the stairs as he guesses.


    "Huh, that''s actually a good idea." Scar nods in agreement. "Wait, no." He hastily shakes his head enough for his head to hurt, caressing it with a hand. "I''m actually here to ask for your expert redstone assistance." He claps his hands as he explains with a leveled tone that he usually uses when he''s making a deal.


    "Oh? Scar, I''m quite flattered that you trusted my redstone prowess so badly that you came all this way from Boatem." Tango crosses his arms as he smirks. "But what about Impulse? I know his redstone skills is as great, if not, better than yours truly." He raises a brow in curiosity.


    "I, uh... He''s a bit busy working in his factory. I can''t really bother the candy man himself when he''s absorbed in his work." Scar lies through his teeth as he smiles.


    "Okay. Fair, fair." Tango nods in agreement. "If that''s the case... How may I help you, good sir?" He grins as he spreads his arms to the sides.


    "I need help with pranking Grian." Scar smirks as he starts.


    "Ooh! You piqued my interest right there, I gotta admit." Tango perks up as he chuckles.


    Scar and Tango have immediately started with brainstorming all sorts of ideas on how to prank their local bird man, listing different plans as well as their pros and cons. Tango suggests a moving wall and floor, which is impossible to break out of despite the strongest tools. But Scar reasons that it will be hard to observe Grian from the outside and the pistons are distracting (mainly because of the latter).


    Another suggestion from Tango about trapping Grian inside an obsidian box while he''s asleep. It''s both simple and can easily be redesigned for them to see better from the outside. Scar asks if Tango can create a pair of X-ray glasses in order to see through obsidian. The blonde instantly beams from the question, causing him to rant about already developing a camera that can let one see through anything with easy controls, and that he''s planning to give every Hermit once he''s done to easily view their builds and farms no matter how enormous they are.


    The thought of having such convenient technology makes Scar exclaim in excitement, thankful that he doesn''t have to constantly waste rockets and fly around just to view his bases from afar.


    With that, the two begin to wait by Scar''s Lanbo and wait for the night to come for the target to finally sleep. It took them until midnight with Grian still working on his Midnight Alley, but they move once he''s finally asleep. They slowly enter the house and build an obsidian box around the bed, being careful not to make any noise as Scar digs the floor while Tango raises one side of the bed for Scar to place an obsidian and repeats with the other end.


    Once they''re finished, they place an iron door from the remaining opening they left earlier for viewing purposes. It''s a really good thing those things are extremely hard to break unless you have a pickaxe and have a small opening for you to peek in. Scar leans at the wall beside the front door as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, seeing Tango doing the same while sitting on one of the chests.


    "It turns out I don''t really need your redstone expertise, after all. Sorry for bothering you when you''re so busy." Scar whispers as he silently sighs in relief.


    "Don''t worry about it. I wanted to get involved, anyway, so I can see the look on Grian''s face when he wakes up. Thanks for inviting me." Tango shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand as he whispers a retort.


    "So... How about we take a nap at my place? We still have a few hours before sunrise and for Grian to wake up." Scar suggests as he stands straight with the help of his cane.


    "Good idea." Tango nods in agreement as they slowly go out through the front door and quietly close it.


    ©¤©¤©¤ ? ??¡î: *.? .* :¡î?. ©¤©¤©¤


    "Nooo!" Grian cries himself awake, rising to sit up as he stretches an arm ahead of him.


    His chest rises and falls frantically as he heaves for breath, clutching the hem of his thick blanket like a lifeline as he tries to regain his bearing. He grunts as he senses his temple throbbing with pain as if it''s been pricked by millions of needles, holding it with a hand as if it will disappear.


    Wait, why does everything look pitch black even with all the various light sources surrounding his house? He looks around and shudders profusely with fear, making the boulder of a lump in his throat difficult to swallow more than ever. The obsidian box mocks him with its indifferent yet judging stature as the walls get closer and closer by the second, causing the tears to roll through his pale cheeks.


    He leaves the former comforts of his bed with quivering legs, whipping his head left to right as he looks for an opening to escape this prison with suppressed sobs that threaten to leave his pursed lips. He can''t use his tools to break himself out when they''re currently in his chests, which are all inaccessible when they''re outside (but not him).


    What should he do?


    What if he''ll never be able to get out?


    Grian throws himself towards an iron door, grunting as his shoulder twinges from the pain and holds it carefully with a hand. More tears and sobs are escaping as he can feel himself panicking more, slamming his fists desperately towards the hard surface of the obsidian walls, begging to be let out as he screams for help despite knowing it''s futile.


    Sound can''t travel that far when you''re in a closed room made out of dense materials, after all.


    He grunts as loud as a tiger''s roar as he thrashes the bed and flips it to the side, still feeling this weird internal or metaphorical itch that he wants to violently scratch as his puffy eye twitches. It persists when hundreds of feet are crawling from inside him, multiplying at every second as they vigorously climb every nook and cranny of his body. He runs to the walls and scratches his nails to the surface numerous times, over and over until the reduced edges have cracked and bleed.


    Grian slams his back towards the corner of the room, shrinking onto himself as he brings his quivering hands to his unkempt hair and pulls them as hard as he can, shrieking loudly by how the weird itch is still as present and stubborn as ever.


    It''s still not gone! It''s still here it''s still here it''s still here it''s still here¡ª


    He rips whatever feathers he can grab and pulls away from his now dishevelled wings, still sensing the crawling tiny legs but the consecutive twinges manage to drown some of them out of his mind.


    How much time has passed?


    Has it been weeks... years... centuries, even, since then?


    Compared to his frantic movements from earlier, all he can feel is nothing apart from his throbbing head as the numbness renders every appendage useless. His cracked lips hang slightly open, mouth and throat have been dry for a while, limbs being splayed all over the cold bloody floor as his eyeballs move towards the dancing grille, staring blankly at what he can see of the orange and cerulean horizon.


    It''s all over.


    No one is going to find him and he''ll die here sooner or later.


    This obsidian prison will be his grave as it will protect his rotting corpse soon.


    If he''s going to die soon anyway, he might as well light something on fire. His trashed bed is flammable. Might as well burn that into dust.


    Grian slowly reaches for his pyjamas pocket, pulling out the cool metal of the flint and steel as he hovers it in front of him.


    Wait, he''s inside an obsidian box right now. His eyes dart all around him as he measures the size, widening at the epiphany.


    It''s the right measurements.


    He frantically stands from his seat, leaning towards the wall with a thud as his legs have fallen asleep on him. He brings the hand that''s clutching the flint and steel like a lifeline towards the obsidian beside him, lighting it and brings forth the purple swirls of the Nether portal. He cracks a smirk as he gradually heads towards freedom, the iron door in front of him is reduced into purple distortions as he''s transported into a different dimension.


    Grian may be a sitting duck in there with nothing to his name, but at least he¡¯s free.

 Shard 05 – I offer an apology and one long overdue

    The soft colors of the cherry blossom soothe his constricted chest as it sways with the gentle breeze. He reaches his hand, hoping to grasp its beautiful petals and preserve them forever. He blinks, only to see a young girl whose skin is as white as pristine snow, smiling softly at his direction like a shining star to the pitch-black rainy sky. His mouth moves on its own as he tries to reason with her, crimson teary eyes meet with dilated chocolate ones one last time.


    He shouldn''t have broken up with her.


    Why on earth did he do that?


    It was such a dumb and stupid decision!


    It feels like watching the world¡¯s weirdest slideshow as he sits back and sees all the unfamiliar yet nostalgic overlapping images and videos flashing before him, holding his throbbing forehead internally as he continues to watch.


    The last remaining petals finally fall on what is left of her beauty, trying to run towards her with an outstretched hand. But it''s too late as he stares at the asphalt down below, splattered with crimson blood as her empty eyes stare in his direction, no longer responding as he tries to call out to her.


    She never will, now that the last thread that''s been wrapping around her with tender care has been severed by none other than his own dirty hands.


    Their lives are spared (for now) but at what cost?


    They may have won the battle, but is it worth losing the war?


    He may have been ignoring it all this time, locking it into the depths of his mind trying to forget, but the memories of the dead will never be erased.


    No matter what.


    "Yuki, nooo!" Scar jolts violently as he frantically sits up, stretching his hand in front of him as he wheezes.


    Scar''s eyes dart from one thing to another, currently trying to process his situation. He''s in his Lanbo with Tango, waiting for daytime to come in order to watch their feathery friend being at the end side of the prank this time.


    "Are you okay, Scar?"


    He squeals at the sudden voice calling out his name, snapping his head to the side and sees Tango furrowing his brows in concern.


    "Tango! You can''t just scare a man like that. I almost peed on my bed despite my age." Scar holds a trembling hand to his drumming chest as he sighs. "Jeez!"


    "Oops! Sorry about that, man. Were you having a nightmare or something? You were looking a bit pale when you were tossing and turning in your sleep." Tango rubs the back of his neck as he guesses.


    Scar''s eyes blow wide and flinch in surprise, epiphany currently overtaking his buzzing brain over the fact that he just recovered his lost memories before he met Cub and the others. The butterflies in his stomach increase as he remembers all the blood, the bodies, all the gaslighting and mistreatment towards the person he''s supposed to care about yet all he did was anything but.


    "I-I''m fine, Tango. Thank you." Scar mutters a reply as he bites his lower lip to draw blood and punish himself.


    He can understand if he was doing some mischievous things to prank his friend back then since that''s what high school was all about, but not downright torture of all things!


    "We should probably check Grian to see if he''s already found the prank. He should''ve woken up hours ago considering how the sun is already high up in the sky." Scar addresses promptly as he throws the blanket aside, grabbing his cane beside his bed while he stands.


    "Oh, shoot! I completely forgot!" Tango''s hair bursts into a burning flame for a split second before frantically leaving the comforts of the mattress on the floor as he wears his shoes and follows suit.


    Scar huffs and puffs as he traverses the land towards Grian''s house, only stopping by the front door as he plants his hands to his knees to catch his breath.


    "Uh, do you hear that?" Tango plants his fists to his sides as he heaves for breath beside Scar while turning his head around in question.


    Scar stands at full height with the cane''s help as he strains his hearing, jumping in surprise as he listens to the obnoxious vwooping of an active Nether portal. He looks over yonder with furrowed brows, seeing the obsidian rectangle by the distance where it''s always been. But how come they can hear it clearly, though?


    "I think I can hear it from inside the house." Tango muses and suddenly goes pale in a split second. "Oh, no."


    As if a button has been switched on, Scar''s body moves on its own as he barges in Grian''s house, now hearing the vwooping noise louder than before and swallowing the lump in his throat with difficulty. He runs to the lever and pulls it down to open the iron door and enters, stopping by the entrance to see the purple particles flying in the air but no Grian.


    He slowly walks around to observe his surroundings and shudders tremendously at the sight of the place, spotting blood stains everywhere accompanied with ripped feathers and scratches on the walls like he''s inside a serial killer or horror movie. He slams a hand to his mouth as he begins to gag at the horrid scene, barely standing on his quivering feet as he sees Tango going to the portal.


    "Let''s go!" Tango yells to overtake the portal''s sound.


    "Ta- Wha¡ª"


    "Grian must''ve escaped through the Nether with literally nothing on him. He might be being attacked by the hostile mobs as we speak. Now, let''s go!" Tango intercepts as he explains with mach speed.


    Scar follows suit and not a second later, the raven surroundings of the obsidian box are quickly changed into the scorching terrains of the Nether. Since he knows the place the most, Tango leads the way in order to avoid the potential dangers and unnecessary fighting as they keep a sharp eye on a huge pair of iridescent wings amongst the red and orange.


    A few hours must''ve passed or it''s only been a couple of minutes since they entered, but there''s still no sightings of Grian, causing Scar''s anxiety to skyrocket in every wasted second and the possibility of losing his friend forever without even having to apologize. When all hope is almost lost, he yells on top of his lungs once he finds a trail of feathers being coated with blood, following after them without hesitation, not waiting for Tango''s reaction.


    At the end of the trail is a familiar Nether portal, the one that he and the Boatem crew constantly use whenever they want to gather materials. But why? He shakes his head vigorously before sprinting towards it and enters. That''s not important right now. It''s more important to make sure that Grian is safe.


    It''s the least he can do for being a horrible friend to him after all these years, after all.


    Scar stumbles forward as he returns to the Overworld, regaining his bearing with the cane''s help and looks around for red feathers and strawberry blonde hair.


    There!


    Grian, who''s still in his t-shirt and pajamas, has been swaying left to right as he embraces himself with quivering hands, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. Scar calls out to him in worry as he runs towards him, only for Grian to jolt violently and stare at Scar''s direction like a deer in the headlights. Before he realizes, Grian is frantically flying away from him further towards the north.


    "Grian, wait! I need to talk to you!" Scar yells in desperation, already pulling out his elytra and hastily straps it around himself before propelling himself in the air with the rockets.


    All Scar can see ahead is the pristine white snow that surrounds the terrain, shuddering at the cold crawling through his bare skin as he fires more and more rockets in hopes of catching up to Grian. Seriously, why is that guy so fast at flying and with plucked feathers, no less? Suddenly, the wind is rushing in his face before he realizes that he''s starting to fall fall fall fall fall¡ª


    He''s going to die!


    The snow is getting closer as he plummets to his death, screaming on top of his lungs as he waits for the inevitable. The thought occurs like a slap to the face and brings forth the magic all throughout his body, stopping the rush of death barely as the ground and his face are only a few inches apart. He releases the breath he''s unknowingly holding and falls flat to the snow with a thud.


    Scar huffs and puffs misty breaths as he''s been traversing the freezing land with still no Grian in sight. His vision begins to black out here and there as his chattering teeth get louder. He lost his cane during the fall, so he''s only managed to walk this far with his magic. The snow is getting heavier but he won''t turn back now that he''s gotten this far. For a moment, he thinks he saw something from his peripheral vision. He squints his freezing eyelids for a better view and...


    There!


    The blood trail and footprints are almost completely covered by the fresh fallen snow but luckily, he finds them at a perfect time. He doesn''t waste time sprinting as hard as he can as a grin stretches across his face despite his cracked lips burning with pain.


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    He doesn''t care.


    He''s finally reached his destination!


    Scar enters the mouth of the cave and leans on the way once his numb feet are finally giving up on him, gasping for air despite the cold pricking his lungs.


    His blurry eyes observe the small area, noticing how it¡¯s slightly warmer and brighter. That¡¯s when he spots them, old-looking torches lining up on the ground like a trail of breadcrumbs as they light the way in this surface cave. He uses the wall as support as he gradually makes his way down, using the torches as guide in hopes of seeing Grian at the end of it. It¡¯s as if the heavens have finally answered his call once he spots disheveled wings wrapping itself towards something like a cocoon, noting how it¡¯s quivering violently while shrinking to a corner.


    ¡°Grian?¡± Scar calls in a raspy voice as he goes into a coughing session with how dry his throat is.


    Grian jolts violently in response as he shrinks further into the walls like he¡¯ll fused with it. The area is deathly silent apart from the chattering of teeth, cracking of burning torches, and the whistling wind from outside, making Scar think Grian isn¡¯t going to reply, so he decides to open his mouth to speak. But a grating sound stops him from doing so, letting him know it isn¡¯t the case.


    ¡°Go away, Sa- Scar.¡± Grian mutters barely from all the chattering and trembling.


    ¡°I¡ªEveryone is worried about you, G. You can¡¯t just run away to the tundra like that. It will ruin your health and risk losing a finger or two with hypothermia, especially in your poor condition¡ª¡± Scar begins to ignore that as he tries to lighten the mood with a conversation.


    ¡°Stop.¡±


    ¡°¡ªThose thin clothes won¡¯t do if you want to stay warm. Uh, here!¡± He ignores how Grian intercepts as he continues, starting to remove his red coat as he steps closer. ¡°You can take my coat since you¡¯re probably freezing to death considering you¡¯ve been here for hours, maybe.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need it.¡±


    ¡°This is no time to be stubborn and difficult, Grian.¡± Scar furrows his brows as he leans the thick clothing towards Grian¡¯s back.


    ¡°I said ¡®I don¡¯t need it!¡¯¡± Grian yells as he bolts upright and slaps Scar¡¯s hands away with his own, letting the coat drop on the ground with a plop.


    Grian suddenly flinches and stands stiff in place as he stares wide in Scar¡¯s direction, staying quiet as a fish apart from his bated breath.


    ¡°G-Grian? Are you okay?¡± Scar hesitantly stresses despite knowing the answer.


    ¡°Why do you care?¡± Grian¡¯s voice wavers as he wrings his hands and takes a step back.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m your friend?¡± Scar swallows the lump in his throat and places a hand to his chest as he steps forward. ¡°Look, I¡¯m really sorry if the prank really upsets you, but we really need to go back if we don¡¯t want to be turned into human-sized popsicles in this weather.¡± He sighs as he straightens his posture and explains calmly.


    ¡°You¡¯re just blaming me for running away from the prank that you did?¡± Grian scoffs and sneers as he curls his fingers into fists.


    ¡°What? That¡¯s- Don¡¯t put words in my mouth! All I¡¯m saying is that you should take care of yourself more.¡± Scar furrows his brows as his eyes begin to narrow.


    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re gonna say I¡¯m crazy now, huh?¡± Grian grits his teeth and flares his ruffled wings as he jabs a thumb to his chest.


    ¡°What are you talking about? That¡¯s the opposite of what I said!¡± Scar stumps his foot forward as he clenches his fists to the side, tight enough for his nails to dig deep on his palms.


    Why is Grian suddenly saying weird things that don''t make sense? Scar isn¡¯t sure why, but it makes the bile in his stomach boil as the adrenaline begins to rush all over his body in anger. He doesn¡¯t understand. Why is he doing this when all he wants is to help? Does he want to freeze to death or something?


    ¡°Oh, come off it!¡± Grian rolls his eyes as he snaps. ¡°That¡¯s what you always do every time you try to manipulate me!¡±


    ¡°M-Manipulate? Grian, are you listening to yourself right now? Why do I want to manipulate my friend?¡± Scar yells as he repeatedly ruffles his own hair in annoyance before throwing it to his side.


    ¡°Ooh, I don¡¯t know. To let me dance in the palm of your hands, so I will always do your bidding!¡± Grian spats. ¡°Stop pretending when I already know your game, Sam!¡±


    Everything suddenly stops as if time has frozen along with the tundra and themselves, Scar¡¯s eyes widen in surprise and epiphany as to why Grian is suddenly acting strange.


    Him.


    It¡¯s all him from the start.


    Scar has always been the obstacle that causes all sorts of pain to Grian when they¡¯re supposed to be friends. His distant attitude back when he first joined Hermitcraft suddenly makes sense, now that he realizes it. After all the pain and torture that he¡¯s been through because of Scar in the past, Grian is afraid to place his trust towards others, scared of going through it again and shy away protect himself.


    Back when Scar noticed the scars once when Grian had to change attire after getting sick for overworking himself with building his mansion, he didn¡¯t question the lines littering his skin as anything but self-harm. To cope with all the horrible things Scar had done to him. The signs were always there in plain sight, but he never noticed it or if he did, he only ignored it.


    The bottle Grian surrendered to the teachers before, the scar on his forehead during the bus crash, the knife wounds on his arms apart from the rows of lines on his wrists during that unfair fight with Pie Lord, a few gunshot wounds from the yakuza shootout, the knife wounds on the face and throat that Scar himself inflicted when he threatened him with a knife to make him do his bidding, the way he flinched every time there¡¯s a white rabbit or someone screamed at him no matter the reason, his fear of small spaces, and the way he¡¯s too overprepared when there¡¯s a battle involved were all caused by Sam.


    They¡¯re different in many ways but unfortunately, they¡¯re two sides of the same coin.


    Even if he didn¡¯t cause it directly, he brought the situation into fruition that would cause harm on his beloved friends and never thought about the consequences. As long as he entertained himself, he never cared about anyone that might be hurt around him.


    Scar is snapped out of his rushing thoughts as he hears Grian¡¯s voice shrieking and jumps hastily to the side when something pounces on him, only to see Grian crouching on the floor and stabbing a knife where he used to be.


    The blizzard howls stronger as Grian tightens his grip around the handle of Ellen¡¯s old knife that he¡¯s been maintaining, pulling it out of the ground as he releases erratic breaths and barely stands back on weak legs. His insides are pinpricked by millions of needles and being burned alive at the same time, wincing here and there as the pain increases tenfold even at the slightest movement.


    Not anymore!


    He won''t submit to Sam, not this time!


    He''s sick and tired of having to look out for his unpredictable mood swings and had to tiptoe at every single second of his life, hoping but failing terribly of keeping his anger at bay either way.


    "Grian. Please calm down and why don''t you drop that dangerous weapon, so we can sit and talk?" Sa- Scar holds out his hands ahead of him in a placating manner.


    What is he planning now?


    Grian thinks of all the possible things Sam might be planning as he vigilantly approaches him. This is probably a ruse to let him lower his guard, so Sam can pounce on him at any second when he least expects it.


    Sca- Sam slowly steps forward like he''s approaching a scared and weak animal (or a predator hunting its prey in this man''s case), causing every cell in Grian''s cell to rush as he jumps back in reflex with a scowl.


    He knew it!


    "There- There are b-better ways to settle this than bloodshed, my friend. I''m sure you know this, right?" Sam smiles as he casually lies.


    Grian is so used to his lies already that it''s starting to get more irritating as this man continues to weave dishonesty, so he grits his chattering teeth so much they might shatter at the sheer force as he raises the knife and pounces towards his target, ending his decade-long suffering and fear once and for all.


    Unfortunately, Sam easily dodges his swift attack and runs away, Grian groans in annoyance as he chases after him.


    Scar yelps as the knife barely manages to scrape him at almost every swing, panic rising from his heavy stomach as Grian''s bloodshot eyes are burning like a laser at the back of his head that''s filled with nothing but bloodlust. Why is he going full-on serial killer on him when his body must be seconds from collapsing right now? He should find a way to convince Grian in order for him to stop asserting his remaining strength and conserve it instead.


    But how?


    "Sam, come back here! I''m sure you''re scheming again but it won''t work!" Grian''s grating voice yells behind Scar while he''s dodging and weaving for his life, the misty breath obscuring his vision as he huffs and puffs desperately for air while his lungs are burning in pain. "We have known each other for ten years, after all!"


    Honestly, Grian''s actions are currently justified considering how much torment Scar had brought to him, but the fact that hearing him being called ''Sam'' sends a pang in his drumming chest remains. He''s aware of the horrible things he did before, but it''s still weird being blamed for it when he never wanted to do those things in the first place.


    Yet it still happened anyway.


    "Why does this have to happen to me?"


    Scar snaps out of his distracting thoughts with a flinch as hears a voice sobbing that''s barely audible from the howling winds and chattering teeth. He looks back over his shoulder, only to see Grian leaning on the wall as he marches with glassy eyes due to unshed tears.


    "When will this decade-long suffering gonna last?" Grian wipes the tears with his arm as quickly as it came, causing Scar''s heart to skip a beat and bites his cracked lower lip. "I''m so tired."


    He hates how Grian looks so small than he already is in every painful second he sees him, finally stopping in his tracks as he blames being cornered to a wall and his numb legs to give up running for his life. After all the horrible things Sam did to him, it''s only fair for Scar to pay the price, right? He turns to face Grian and leans his wheezing back towards the wall to rest, waiting for Grian to arrive.


    Once Scar sees those sharp dull eyes, it reminds him of an identical scene unfolding before him. When Grian got out of their basement after Taurtis answered his plea for help and set him free, he didn''t hesitate to pounce on Sam as he declared to kill him. If he remembered correctly, Sam trapped Grian there and dressed him up for Star Wars day as he planned to let him out eventually, but Scar doubts that''s true.


    Grian stops in his tracks when he sees Sa- Scar standing to his full height with a smug smirk, approaching the unpredictable with cautious steps.


    "Wh-What are you doing?" Grian falters as he drags his feet against the rough surface with a frown.


    The bile in his stomach begins to rise as apprehension latches onto the back of his exhausted and shivering body, anticipating for Scar''s next move as he readies the knife with a firm grip.


    "I know you always wanted to slice my throat in half and bathe in my own crimson blood. But you were just so naive back then and couldn''t dirty your hands, hoping that everything would go back the way they were." Scar starts abruptly as he huffs and puts a hand on his hip, tilting his head to the side for good measure.


    Grian stares at Scar''s body language that screams confidence as he scrunches his nose and narrows his eyes in confusion.


    "Sa- What are you¡ª"


    "Well, guess what?" Scar intercepts as he grins ear to ear. "This is reality, you idiot." Grian jolts as his puffy and freezing eyes blow wide in surprise. "This isn''t some fairytale where you can wish on a fairy godmother to make your childish dreams come true." He crosses his arms as he shakes his head in disappointment.


    The fists on Grian''s side are shaking at how tight he''s curling them as he seethes.


    "Come off it and get to the point alrea¡ª"


    "You have to do it yourself like how I stabbed anyone who would get in my way. You''re familiar with that, right? After all, you''re always at the end of my blade."


    Grian''s eye twitches as the burning magma inside his body boils, threatening to burst out at any moment as he tries to stand in place and not wipe the smug look on Sam''s face right here and there.


    "If I can do it, why can''t you, huh? Huh?! Do it! Kill me! I dare you, you stupid chicken!" Scar throws his arms to the sides and spreads them as his eyes glint and laughs maniacally.


    Everything blurs once Grian finally gives in to his anger, only processing a few information like his burning palm as he holds the grip of the knife like a lifeline, or how quickly his numb body moves surprisingly well despite the strength slipping away from his fingertips as fatigue and sleep take over, or how easily he raises the weapon above his head and strikes it to Sam''s direction.