Unrecognizable

~Chapter Twenty-Seven~

Sage's POV-

Could Void not just... wait? Wait for maybe ten minutes as Sage explained the weird things that he had discovered the previous day? Was that too much to ask? Sage sighed. Void did have things to do today; he'd have time to talk later. Sage didn't make a move to stop the admin before he left.

And it was probably weird to just be awkwardly standing in his room, so maybe Sage should leave.

And leave he did, back to Mumbo's base. After one or two wrong turns and a near-collision with a particularly ginormous tree, the moustached man finally made it back home. Was it really home, though? Sage couldn't decide. Sure, he felt most comfortable here, but it wasn't exactly his to call home. Nevertheless, it was easiest just to call it home. And so he did. So there. No further discussion needed.

He had to stop talking to himself.

After glancing around to ensure that no one was watching, Sage pushed aside a few trinkets and pressed the button to open the staircase. He covered it back up and began his descent, pulling out a torch as usual. Maybe it would be a good idea to actually put some of these torches on the walls. Hm. Maybe later.

Sage almost pressed the button to let himself into the room built into the stairwell-- he generally stayed in it when he wasn't busy-- but he hesitated. He wasn't able to ask Void about his and Mumbo's shared-- or not?-- memories... but he could talk to Mumbo himself, couldn't he? The only problem was, he didn't really feel like putting on the 'Haha, I'm mentally unstable and am three minutes from killing everyone you care about' facade. Not right now. But what was more important; being comfortable or getting answers? Sage knew the answer to that.

And so he only went into his room to grab some food; he hadn't made a delivery to Mumbo in a few days and the brit might be running out. Sage had been making sure that Mumbo wasn't starving; he was holding Mumbo captive, not torturing him, after all. And what was the polite thing to do while having a conversation if not providing edibles as well? Sage dug through his stock to find some acceptable food, eventually deciding on some baked potatoes, apples, pork chops, and a few almost-freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. They were baked a few days prior, but they were still good.

The duplicate shoved these into a shoulker box, which he then placed into a bag after grabbing some for himself and proceeded to walk the rest of the way back down into the lab, illuminating his path with a torch as he went.

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Mumbo's POV-

The actual, real, not a poser Mumbo sat, as he normally did, in the back of the cell, spacing out. On his lap lay Jellie, asleep, as he absently scratched behind her ear. He had been doing a lot of spacing, a lot of thinking, over the two-- or was it more?-- months that he had been in there. About what varied, though. Sometimes it was about himself, sometimes it was about the other Hermits, sometimes it was about what he could've possibly done wrong to make Sage as he was... and why Xisuma chose the duplicate's side over his own.

Mumbo really missed the others. He missed the shenanigans. He missed chasing after Grian after his moustache 'mysteriously disappeared' for the sixth time. He missed time-traveling. He missed spending time with his robot-son. He missed running for mayor and failing miserably at everything. He missed Hermitcraft.

And how could he possibly believe the promise that he'd be able to leave soon enough? How could he trust a word that X and Sage said, no matter how convincing they sounded? Something was off about Sage-- and not just the usual offness of him, given what he was. No, he seemed more genuine. Less showy. And that was far more suspicious than before. Mumbo still hated Sage, one-hundred percent. Even if he no longer had that aura of smugness and fakeness, he was still a monster. And Mumbo, believe it or not, didn't much care for those.