Playing Open-Handed

Chapter 6: For Hermitcraft

Five hermits sat in a campsite, tired and sitting back-to-back. They were the last ones left: Joe, Cleo, Doc, Mumbo and Tango. Everyone else was either controlled, taking a break from the server, or too far away to reach. They'd had a busy week, planning out their attacks, working out specific scenarios and everything else. They would attack at dawn. But for now, they were just enjoying each other's company, possibly for the last time.

"I'll keep watch." Tango volunteered.

"I'll keep watch. Joe insisted. "You've kept watch all week, and not slept at all. You're key to this battle, Tango. I'll keep watch tonight, so that we're all well-rested."

Tango made a very immortal noise of protest, but was quickly shut down by Joe's dad glare. He slunk off to his tent, preparing himself for a boring night of pretending to be asleep.

-King of Spades, Jack of Hearts, Queen of Spades, King of Clubs, No Trademark Joker-

Impulse struggled feebly, a cursory effort in fighting against the control. He'd realised long before that his fighting wouldn't have any more effect than what little clumsiness he'd managed, but he still tried in case one day that changed, and he'd be able to break free. Of course, his efforts were once again for naught. He didn't really know why he bothered to keep fighting. Who knows if any of the others were.

He felt his legs moving him up the stairs, out into his main base. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he wondered which Hermit was due to be plunged headfirst into this living hell next. As he approached the figure stood in the middle of his base, he saw that it was Joe. Thankfully, as he got even closer, he realised that it wasn't Joe after all, just an armor stand.

And then two figures dove at him, and he realised that he was under attack, and the Aboleth didn't react quickly enough, and he slipped briefly into blissful unconsciousness. Mumbo and the real Joe stood up, and nodded at the three other figures who were circling in the air above them. Tango and Doc joined the duo, while Cleo dropped some armour stands by them and then perched herself on top of one of the unfinished walls.

There was a beat of silence, and then the four were beset by all of the controlled Hermits. They covered each other's backs as best they could, Cleo directing her armour stands to use as shields.

"Doc! Now!" Joe yelled, passing a lit TNT to Doc, who bat it to an open stretch of floor with his trident. Doc made a mental note to repay the lost smooth stone to Impulse once this all was over, as the Aboleth came swimming up close to the surface, the shine from Its three eyes piercing into all those who met them.

"What is the meaning of this?" A voice spoke. It was insidious, controlling, trying to seep into the cracks of the psyche of anyone who heard it. Tango winced and covered his ears.

"We've come to kill you in order to save our friends." Doc growled, drawing his trident.

"Very well, then." The voice of the Aboleth hissed. "May the best fighter win." And then It promptly whacked Doc with a tentacle.

Five minutes later, and it seemed to be a losing battle. Joe had been taken over first, then Mumbo, then Cleo. Tango and Doc had been forced to stand back to back in order to defend each other. The Hermits controlled by the Aboleth were utterly relentless, and every time one was knocked out or forced to retreat, two took their place. Doc was covered in scratches and bruises from the Aboleth's attacks, and even if he seemed to brush them off, he was starting to suffer.

Tango swiped again, keeping the other hermits away from Doc's back, feeling the sweat starting to bead up on his forehead. He held his ground steadily, brushing off the few scratches that he was taking, since it wasn't like they were going to kill him anyway. And then he thought he saw the faintest glimmer of a ruby, causing his heart to leap in his throat.

He looked around wildly to see if he could spot it again, and sure enough, there it was: the one sword that could kill him, being wielded against him by none other than one of his best friends, Impulse. Suddenly, everyone else seemed to melt away as all of Tango's attention was focused on that accursed blade. He shifted even further on the defence, desperately retreating as Impulse drove after him.

Doc turned around, startled, and saw what Impulse was doing, and saw a fear in Tango's eyes that none of the Hermits had ever seen before, and saw the silent apology that Tango mouthed towards him, and nodded, and bashed Ren, who'd been sneaking up on him, with the handle of his trident.

Tango stumbled back as he lost more and more ground. He was struggling to maintain the effort necessary to hold Impulse off without hurting the friend who Tango was painfully aware of just how mortal he was. Still, Tango fought back as best he could, defending himself from that sword, knowing that even the tiniest scratch from that thing could potentially incapacitate him.

Because of all of the effort he was putting into protecting himself from that sword, he didn't even notice the kick Impulse delivered to his knees until he was already off-balance, falling to the floor with a soft thud, the diamond sword he'd been using clattering uselessly out of reach as he'd dropped it in a vague attempt to catch himself.

"Impy..." He whispered. "Please. Fight back."

Unheeding, Impulse raised the sword, ready to strike, to wipe Tango off the face of the world forever. Tango uselessly flinched with his left arm, squeezing his eyes shut. He made peace with his long life, and prepared for whatever would come next. Because then, in that moment, he was sure he was going to die. 

And then all he knew was burning pain. The sword cut into his arm, and then as suddenly as it had began, it stopped. Trembling along with the hand that held it, the sword was pulled out, and Tango heard it clattering away.

Cautiously, Tango opened his eyes. He saw Impulse, breathing shakily, an expression on his face that was partly horror, partly guilt and partly relief, but in every way Impulse. Tango carefully stood up, wincing at the burning in the slice cut into his arm, almost all the way to the bone, and Impulse rushed to help him. Both trembling, both on the verge of tears, the two fell into a hug.

"I'm sorry." Impulse sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the base, Doc's trident returned to his hand one last time after leaving the Aboleth well and truly dead. All of the hermits around him were coming to their senses. Doc smiled weakly even as the adrenaline drained out of his system, leaving him utterly exhausted. BDubs barely caught him as he collapsed.

But in the end, the Hermits had won.

-Jack of Clubs, Queen of Spades, King of Diamonds, King of Clubs, Queen of Clubs, Queen of Hearts, Jack of Diamonds, Ace of Spades, Ace of Diamonds, Jack of Hearts, No Trademark Joker, King of Hearts, Ace of Diamonds, Queen of Diamonds, King of Spades, Trademark Joker, Jack of Spades-