(Yeah, sorry about dissapearing for a year after... that... Not good timing, huh?)
(Warnings: talk of death and injury, grief, blood)
(2416 words)
The sound of birdsong stirred Grian awake. He was aware of the soft earth beneath him, and when he opened his eyes he could see the sky, a comforting, pale blue, as if everything in the world was okay.
Last he remembered, he had left to find Scar, to tell him what was going on. Looking around, Grian knew he was in the wrong place. He was at the edge of the Shopping District, by the ocean. Nearby was a dock that had been constructed back when the Hermits used boats to reach the island.
He hadn't gone there on his own, the mycelium had taken over again. Mentally, he cursed it. He had been so close.
He sat up, easing the crick in his neck and trying to get a better look at his surroundings. That was when he noticed the blood on the ground. It was only a little, and it was dry. Upon inspection, Grian concluded that he wasn't injured, but there was more of the blood on his hands.
"No, no, no," he muttered as dread washed over him. He didn't know what he had done, but it couldn't have been good.
His communicator buzzed and he checked it, only to find the general chat was in chaos. People were freaking out and asking what on Earth was happening, and Xisuma was trying to call a server meeting.
The feeling of dread only worsened as Grian scrolled back through the panicked messages, trying to find the source.
That was when he saw Etho's death message.
The realization hit him like a brick wall. Or, more accurately, like many bricks being thrown at him as he was hit with flashes of memories. Images he hadn't remembered, and would rather have had it stay that way. Etho glaring up at him defiantly, blood dripping down his face and fear in his eyes. Moonlight cast on the ground as he dragged Etho by the collar, the man struggling to break free from the ropes that bound him. Watching Etho's panicked face sinking below the dark waves, his mouth open in a muffled scream before disappearing from view.
"No," Grian gasped. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Maybe if things had been different, if he had just held onto control a bit longer, this wouldn't have happened. But things weren't different, and there was nothing he could do about it anymore.
He had murdered Etho.
He buried his face in his hands and sobbed.
<~~~>
XB sat in the HQ, farther down the tunnel from where the table was set up, right beside the tangled clump of hyphae. The Source Block. Of course it had a name, it was too special not to. XB knew because it had told him.
This area of the cave had never been lit like the rest. It felt wrong to bring another light source here. The man shuddered at the thought of the small flame inside a lantern so close to the Source Block.
Because of this, there was only the dim light that came from the hyphae themselves. Hyphae which wound themselves around XB's fingers and up his wrists. In the darkness, the hyphae under his skin could be seen to have the same pulsing glow, almost like a heartbeat.
Recently, he had found he preferred to spend his time down here. Anywhere else, it felt as if his mind and body were being pulled at by two different forces, each begging to be rid of the other. It was exhausting. But he was at peace here. The other force didn't bother him.
The Source Block glowed brighter momentarily and he sat up straight. It was going to speak to him. Over the past few hours, it had only spoken twice. Once to tell him its name. The second time he was told how he was special. The others still required persuasion, to be led to do what was best for them and the island. But he was different. He would willingly do whatever was asked of him. That's why, he had been told, he could have control over his actions and remember, so long as he obeyed, of course.
But strangely, he couldn't remember the previous night.
The Source Block's voice wasn't necessarily a voice. It was more like thoughts and phrases appearing in XB's head, as if the knowledge was being transferred to him.
This time, instead of words, XB was given an image. A factory.mHe recognized it, it was the abandoned one, just off the coast of the shopping district.
There was something there, something that needed to be destroyed. Its existence threatened the Resistance. He would know it when he saw it.
"Should I gather the others?" he whispered, unsure whether he could communicate with the Source Block.
No. The others would just slow him down. He would do this alone.
He stood, the glowing tendrils falling from his arms.
"I won't let you down."
<~~~>
Even fewer Hermits showed up for the server meeting than the last, but Scar couldn't blame them. He likely wouldn't have been there himself if he hadn't felt responsible.
It was eerily quiet as they gathered. No one spoke. Even the sound of their footsteps seemed to be swallowed up, leaving an almost tangible silence.
Scar was about to sit with Bdubs, until he saw his friend sitting in the grass with his knees tucked to his chest, staring blankly into space. His expression was completely devoid of emotion, but his eyes were rimmed with red. Scar thought he looked as if he was too mentally exhausted to feel anything anymore, and he knew there was nothing he could do to help. Besides, Tango was already with him, his arm around the smaller Hermit's shoulders, though he didn't seem to notice at all.
Xisuma didn't have to call for attention. As soon as he arrived on the spawn island, Hermits turned to face him, looking to their leader for some sense of direction and stability. He didn't stand on any elevated ground, as he had before. He was at the same level as the rest of them.
Scar noticed that the admin stood facing the sun, which was still relatively low in the sky and cast a glare on his helmet visor, completely obscuring his face from view of the Hermits. There was no doubt in Scar's mind that this was intentional. Xisuma wouldn't want the server to see him upset, especially now, when it would be best for him to appear strong and unafraid.
Scar didn't feel like either of those.
"I don't know how to say this," Xisuma began. "Because there is no easy way to say it. I also know I don't need to explain to you what happened to Etho... We all know."
Scar thought this wasn't entirely true. Earlier that morning, he and Xisuma had found Etho's body washed up on a small island. His hands and feet had been tied together. He was bruised and his nose appeared to be broken. These things only confirmed their suspicions as to how it had happened.
After cutting away the ropes, they had buried Etho next to his base, and Xisuma had decided it would be best not to tell the server the details of Etho's death just yet.
"Let them grieve first," he had said. "If they find out he was murdered while in the state they're in, some of them might try to avenge him."
The mayor still wasn't sure that this was the best idea.
"Etho was a great man," Xisuma now continued. "He was kind-hearted, and funny... and I know we'll all miss him very much." He paused to take a deep breath. "But we can't let this destroy us. No matter what, life keeps on moving, and we have to move along with it, even if he can't be there with us."
"How could this have happened?" Scar heard Mumbo ask quietly. The question wasn't directed at anyone in particular, and several others voiced the same thought in response.
"It does seem impossible," Xisuma said. "These things can never be planned for or expected. And that's part of what makes them so terrible." Scar felt worse with each word. "I just wish there was something that could have been done."
Scar couldn't take it anymore. Talking about it as if it were some freak accident, something that couldn't have been prevented.
"It was my fault," he said miserably. Several faces turned toward him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bdubs lift his head.
"Scar, don't do this to yourself," Xisuma said, but Scar was already shaking his head.
"It was my fault," he repeated, a little louder, looking into Xisuma's visor. "He asked me for help and I promised that I'd keep him safe. I promised."
"Scar." Xisuma spoke softly, clearly trying to calm him down. "You couldn't have kept that promise, it was impossible."
"Then I never should have made it in the first place!" Scar was past the point of calming down. All his stress had boiled over into anger, and he had no one to be angry at but himself. "If it weren't for that promise, he wouldn't have put himself in harm's way. If I hadn't made that promise, he would still be alive!" His voice broke with emotion and he stood facing the admin, breathing heavily.
Xisuma didn't respond. After a few seconds, he broke eye contact and lowered his head.
Almost unconsciously, Scar noticed the sash he was wearing over his suit jacket. Bdubs had given it to him, as well as the rest of the outfit, just after the mayoral election. It had the word "MAYOR" embroidered along it in bold letters.
He took it off and held it out to the admin.
"I've failed everyone as Mayor," he said quietly. "I put Etho in danger, and I couldn't protect him. I can't do this." When Xisuma didn't reply or move to take the sash, he continued. "All of this is my fault. If I hadn't decided to dig up the mycelium, it wouldn't have started infecting people. Everything I've done as Mayor has only caused suffering. I cannot be Mayor anymore." His voice became more broken with each word and he could feel tears building up behind his eyes. "Please."
There was a long silence between the two.
"Are you sure about this?" Xisuma finally asked.
"It's the only thing I'm sure of, right now."
For a moment, Scar could see Xisuma's eyes past the visor. Then the admin reached out, took the sash from Scar's shaking hands, and nodded.
<~~~>
Up close, the factory was huge. From a bird's-eye view, it was shaped somewhat like a shortened "T", and the walls curved into a rounded roof with two large smoke stacks.
"Whoever these people were," XB thought out loud. "THey sure were great builders."
Standing here he felt... scared? No, that wasn't it. Sure, he was nervous of what might be in the factory, but that wasn't the prominent emotion.
He felt disturbed. Like when you throw a rock into a pond, creating ripples. That other presence was back. Pulling against him.
Run, it seemed to say. Run and never look back. Don't listen to it. Don't let it win.
He tried to push it away and focus on the task at hand, but he still felt uneasy.
There were two large metal doors and, although rusted, they were sturdy and had stood the tests of time, much like the rest of the building. XB pulled on one of the doors. It was heavy, but he managed to pry it open a few feet, sending in a gust of air which tossed up clouds of dust.
He coughed as he stepped inside. His throat and chest already hurt, but the dust was the final straw. His coughing quickly became louder and more violent, and in the dim interior, he didn't see the dark stain that appeared on his sleeve.
As he made his way along the hallway, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The place was well and truly abandoned. There were cobwebs in the corners, and dust covered every available surface. In rooms on either side, he saw near-empty bookcases and various papers scattered on the floor.
You'll know it when you see it, he repeated to himself, though he couldn't understand why anyone would create something that threatened the Source Block. It seemed to go against all logic.
He came to a large main area at the end of the hallway. There were several large machines with conveyor belts, though he knew it would be pointless to try and turn them on. They were very old, and would likely do nothing.
And anyways, he wasn't interested in the machines. Along the walls were stacks of wooden crates. Those were what grabbed his attention. They had no label of any kind. He knew only one thing about them, and that one thing was all he needed to know.
Those were what he was here to destroy.
He held out his hand and summoned an ax from his inventory. What little light came through a high-up window glinted off its diamond blade. He approached a stack of crates and swung the ax at one of them.
It shattered the old wood with a loud crash, followed by the sound of breaking glass and something hissing.
A fizzing liquid spilled out of the wreckage. Curiosity got the better of XB, and he pried the lid off the next crate, instead of just smashing through it. The box was full of glass bottles with straw packed between them. He took one bottle out and examined it. It was filled with what looked like soda. The label was faded, but he could just make out the word "MooPop".
He didn't know what it was, exactly, but he knew to hate it. Placing the bottle back with the others, he took a step back and swung the ax in a sideways arc, cutting through the crate and everything inside it with another crash.
It filled him with exhilaration. Without hesitating, he smashed through another crate. And another. Each time, careful not to let the explosion of soda touch his skin. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt so alive. So full of purpose.
He didn't stop until his arms were tired and there was nothing left but splintered wood and shattered glass.