Chapter Fourteen

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Another short chapter... whoops

Xisuma had been afraid that Xavon wasn't joking, but a few days passed and nothing else happened. No new glitches. No suspicious movement in the code. Nothing out of the ordinary. He'd been more on alert; checking the game code every five minutes, ready for a new glitch to deal with, but as time passed, he relaxed, about the scare of a hacker at least.

On the contrary, he didn't stop worrying about Xavon despite the message. Every day that he didn't turn up, he became more worried. He knew that his brother must be somewhat alright, and it wasn't like he hadn't isolated himself before, and overall he actually seemed to be substantially happier than before, but... the situation just didn't sit right with him. He wished he could communicate with Xavon, he wished he could help, but he couldn't. He was powerless. If Xavon didn't want him to know something then he wouldn't know, it was that simple.

It was evening, he'd done all he wanted for the day, and he found himself wandering over to the Evil Empire base. It was lifeless, cold and deathly still. He went inside the main building, the one with the diamond throne, and looked around. It was darker than usual; hollow, empty, soulless, silent. Cold. It felt wrong that his brother wasn't there, and the air held the same atmosphere of visiting a dead relative's home. He closed his eyes as that thought came to him; it wasn't true and he didn't want to think it.

After a minute, he left the room and went to the one where lava bubbled and a strider chirped. The lava seemed cool even though he knew it wasn't, and the strider looked bored. He walked over to it and patted its head, earning an affectionate chirp, before turning and sinking down to the ground. His eyes gazed around the room; it had a distinct Xavon feel to it. One that he missed. He put his head back against the block containing the lava and sighed, closing his eyes to keep a tear in.

He just wanted his brother.

He just wanted his brother. A tear made it past his eyelids and it rolled down his cheek slowly. The room was some comfort to him, with the essence of Xavon surrounding him, even if that essence had gone slightly cold. It was all he had. In the room, maybe, if only just for a moment, he could pretend that Xavon was there. He realised it had been a long time since he'd last properly slept, and in the solace of the familiar room, Xisuma found himself drifting from consciousness. His eyes refused to open, and he sank away from himself and his thoughts.

-|-|-

Xav- Ev... he looked at his mask thoughtfully, tracing the Watcher symbol. He'd been thinking for a couple of days now, about... a lot of things. About the past, how rage had possessed him like a demon, and how he had enjoyed his evil activities. He thought about the guilt he'd felt later on, and he questioned it. It was ironic in a way, he felt, how he'd thought he was running away from hatred but he was actually running to it; it was an easy guess that Xisuma would hate him when he did what he was planning to do. It was funny how he'd feared hatred, he'd feared so much, but now... now it seemed so inconsequential.

He felt like Evil Xisuma again, and he liked that. He liked the security of the name, the control he'd been lacking. And now he was beginning to truly realise the abilities he had gained. He was a Watcher. He could do anything. He could do what he'd always wanted, he could be who he'd always wanted to be. And now that Xisuma would hate him no matter what, he no longer cared because what could he do? Without his brother's love he would truly have nothing, so what did he have to lose?

If he was Evil Xisuma, nothing could hurt him.

So that was what he would be. He'd rather choose hatred than be destined for it. He placed the mask back on and materialised a piece of paper in his hand. If he wanted to do this, he would have to plan; it was bigger than simply turning iron into gold and gold into netherite and back.

-|-|-

It was dark in the room - Xavon had never been a person for letting the outside in, so there was only one window - but the little light that there was in the morning prompted Xisuma to wake. He took a second to remember where he was, before checking his communicator and sighing.

He stood up and looked around sadly at the room; it felt hollow without its inhabitant. Then he saw something in the corner, drowned in a shadow. He furrowed his eyebrows and went over to two holes in the ground, each separated by a block. One was empty and appeared to have water at the bottom, and the other was a bubble elevator. He didn't remember them being there the last time he'd been in the room, although admittedly that was a couple of months ago. He stepped into the left hole and fell down, maybe possessed by curiosity or hope.

He landed in a cave, manually but carelessly dug out. It was lit up, but only to the bare minimum to stop mobs from spawning, and was empty except for a single chest next to him and a book on top. Xisuma picked up the said book and looked at it oddly; An Admin's Guide to WATCHERS. This was his book, so why was it here? He opened it to a page marked with a piece of paper acting as a bookmark. It was a section about Watcher magic.

... Strange.

Xisuma opened the chest, but the items in it were miscellaneous and gave him no clues.

Had Xavon been researching Watchers? If he had, then... why? Did this have anything to do with anything? Xisuma closed the book and put it back, before looking around the cave again. It was nothing special, just some stone removed from an area. Why would Xavon need a cave to research Watchers? And why would he take the book rather than ask him to borrow it?

-|-|-

Xavon's eyes glinted with fury; Xisuma was a traitor. For the years he'd spent searching for him, he had been messing around and having a good time with his friends. He would see to it that that would no longer be the case. He easily succumbed to the temptation of evil.

-|-|-

Evil Xisuma silently opened the screen and placed the communicator down. He opened the code and his hands came alive with magic as he made sure to hide himself online; that way no one would be able to see that he or anyone was changing the game code unless they happened to be looking at the right time. The flame met the projected green, and he scrolled to the section of code that he needed, opening a couple of tabs of different parts at the same time and spreading them out before him.

He stared forwards through the mask and began altering the words. They changed under his fingertips, flickering and transforming, and the screen turned purple around his hands. He knew exactly what he needed to change, and all he had to do was imagine that and the magic did it; no typos, written in the most efficient way possible, and quicker. Miles quicker.

He repositioned the words, carrying letters to and fro. It was a big change; he was changing a fundamental part of the server's physics, and within just a few minutes his magic began becoming tired. It was weakening quickly. He bit his teeth together, concentrate concentrate concentrate!

The eyes on his wings had all opened, staring forwards in rare unison, and he spread the feathers behind his back as the flames swirling around his hands expanded. The words moved around him and he looked at them all, using the extra eyes. The code wrote itself under his fiery command.

EX glanced over it, before lowering his hands and letting the flame extinguish. The words faded from glowing purple to green as if they were setting in stone. He sighed with relief and his wings flopped down beside him. His mask began buzzing with energy, as though it were recharging him. The Watcher read over the code, before closing the screen as he was satisfied with it.

He sat down and leant against a tree, looking up at the sky that, although not yet visibly, was changed. Magic was tiring. A relived grin relaxed onto him; it was done. He couldn't change his mind now. He would finally succeed. Sure, he'd had a bit of a wobble, creating Derpcoin, being the pathetic Xavon, caring, but he was on track now.

-|-|-

"Grian..." Mumbo said to his friend a couple of nights later as the blond tried to fight off the furious phantoms. "Is the moon big?"

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