Timeline: August 2014
Word Count ~ 2.7k
Deep inside of the Nether, far beyond the portals that led to the mellow green hills and cloudy blue skies of the Overworld, there was a forge. It was larger and older than any other in the three realms' history, and the very heart of the Nether itself. Everyone, from the miners who collected gold and iron, to the metalworkers who welded it into shape, to the engineers who constructed the weapons and machinery that the Nether's inhabitants took such great pride in.
They were then traded to the cities of the Overworld in return for food, fabrics, wood, stone, crops and other things that couldn't be farmed in the harsh conditions of the Nether. It was an agreement that had worked and lasted for thousands of years, and perhaps the only thing that kept the two opposing dimensions from declaring war on each other like they had in the past. Everyone did their part and knew their place, and everyone was happy.
Well, almost everyone.
If the word 'pacifist' existed in the Netherians' vocabulary, which it didn't, that was most probably what Tango would describe himself as. He was quite lucky to be where he was in life, one of his most skilled and efficient engineers in the forge, but he hated everything about his job and what it entailed. The idea of war scared him badly enough, but willingly fueling it for your own benefit? That was what kept him up at night.
It wasn't as if he had a choice. There was no job in the Nether that didn't have some connection to the forge and its weapons, and nothing Tango could do to distance himself from them either. And, with the trading agreement being the only thing that kept the Overworld and the Nether from raging war on each other, he wasn't particularly keen on living in another dimension to try and avoid his life in this one.
It was unfortunate, being seemingly the only person who disagreed with everything the Nether and its culture seemed to stand for. Tango had truly hoped that he'd be able to use his skills for a good cause, like automating crop farms to help feed more people or building defenses that protected citizens from blazes and ghasts without needing to hurt either party, but instead he'd simply been born at the wrong time in the wrong place.
Tango groaned, tossing his wrench to the ground. He couldn't keep working, not with all of this on his mind. Instead he wandered over to the lone window in the room, which served no purpose as the view outside wasn't anything to behold, but it was there anyway and pondering its pointlessness gave Tango a distraction from his work.
The only thing outside of the window that was worth looking at was one of the many large portals that lead to the Overworld. He'd watched countless weapons be carried through that portal, and occasionally caught a glimpse of people from the other dimension coming to hold up their end of the deal. While the inhabitants of the Nether all vaguely resembled each other, with skin tanned from the harsh heat and hair that resembled the flames that surrounded them, the people from the Overworld were each so unique and interesting.
Tango couldn't help but wonder that if the people from the other dimension were so diverse and interesting, what did the Overworld itself look like? And furthermore, why would anyone want to destroy it with the weapons created here in the forge? Imaging such a strange yet beautiful place only made Tango more exasperated with what he was doing, and further instilled the dangerous idea of running away there in his mind.
Although it would be impossible to make travel to the Overworld illegal, it was highly frowned upon and all but forbidden. Tango had heard frequent complaints of humans and others raiding their fortresses so that they could travel to the End and raid that place too, and joining those who were looked down on certainly wouldn't put him in the Netherians' favour.
That said, the only way to stay in their favour was to continue building these over-glorified death machines, so if he was going to stop doing that then he might as well take a chance and leave the Nether entirely. Perhaps his talent might be of better use there, or perhaps he'd wind up a reject there too and be left without anywhere to go. Only time would tell, but as far as Tango was concerned, it was a risk worth taking.
"You guys know the drill, right?" Xisuma questioned. "I'll be gone for a day at most, False and TFC are in charge for the time being, if anyone you don't recognise comes onto the server alert me or Gnembon immediately-"
"-Take care of each other while you're away, and you'll be back soon." Cleo finished. "It's alright X, you tell us this every single time you leave. We'll be fine for a few hours, I promise."
A little over a year since the server had been created, Hermitcraft (or "Hermitcraft Season 2" as they'd been calling it) was coming along brilliantly. Xisuma was almost finished with his Admin training, people were building homes and areas to live in, and things couldn't be better. Sure, respawn and frequent monsters took a while to get used to, but having a world of their own gave the Hermits a certain sense of comfort that they hadn't expected. They were safe, in a perfect place where nobody could harm, judge or mistreat them ever again.
Xisuma in particular was very happy to know that his newfound family would be okay. He had yet to talk to any of them about his old home in the End, his birth family or what the Watchers had done, but he had a feeling that perhaps he wouldn't need to. He'd never let himself forget about Ezra, but he finally had a chance to put what had happened in the past.
"Alright, I guess you're right." Xisuma admitted, opening the portal before him. "This is one of my last training sessions anyway, so I won't have to worry about leaving you for much longer. Bye everyone!"
The portal closed behind him as he went through it, leaving Xisuma in the forest not too far from where he'd first found Mumbo. It was so strange to think that it had been over a year since they'd met Mumbo and Cleo, let alone an entire year since they'd started their server. Which also meant it was over two years since he'd met False and all of this had begun. Strange, and oddly bittersweet too.
"Xisuma, there you are!" Gnembon called, running across the main hall of the Admins' Headquarters. Xisuma had begun to feel far more welcome here, perhaps because he was now an Admin too, or maybe because his new set of green armour made him look like he actually belonged in a place like this. "I'm aware you've got some things to do today, but I was wondering if I'd be able to talk to you about something."
Even Gnembon had been doing better over the last year or so. He'd gone being an intern to one of the Higher Admins, and was already working towards a better position. Something about helping the Hermits had motivated him to try and help more people, and he was already doing a great job.
"I always have time for friends!" Xisuma replied. "After all you've done for me, I surely owe you more than a conversation."
"You owe me nothing, but your assistance would still be invaluable to my team and I." Gnembon explained, leading Xisuma to his office. It was significantly larger than the old one, which had been more of a cupboard with a desk in it than anything, and Gnembon seemed incredibly happy to be out of it.
"It's not about those notes again, is it?" Xisuma questioned. The notes in question, little slips of paper that had been arriving on the Admins' doorstep in sealed envelopes, were the puzzles Gnembon had mentioned when they first met. They had turned out to simply be messages written in Galactic, and although Xisuma could understand them perfectly, they were often nothing more than a mess of random letters.
"Funny you should ask, because it is." Gnembon confirmed. "Now, I'm aware you gave us the standard alphabet translations a few months ago, and the last few have been the same nonsense as usual, but the most recent one actually makes sense... to a degree."
Gnembon passed him the message, and Xisuma frowned as he read it. Although it was actually composed of proper words and sentences this time, it was written and formatted as if it was a poem.
To you who seek to know our words,
To us who seek our golden bird,
To our old friends; we know we're heard,
Our time is coming soon, be warned
"Ominous, isn't it?" Gnembon pointed out. "The first line seems to be addressing us Admins, the last line is pretty straightforward, but it's the second and third ones that I can't figure out. They're planning something big, and this 'golden bird' could have something to do with it."
"Golden bird..." Xisuma repeated. "I can't say I've heard of anything like that before. Whatever it is, it can't be any good if they're trying to get their hands on it."
"That's what I had thought too. The third line in particular also stands out to me, because they mention 'old friends' and being heard, which means there could be someone else out there who knows what they're planning. Whether it's an ally of theirs or a foe, I can't tell."
"Well, if you want assistance deciphering this, I can look into the bird and you can try to learn more about the old friends." Xisuma offered. "I can't remember much from the stories I used to hear about the Watchers, but it might be mentioned in one of them."
"Thank you, having only one thing to focus on will make this a lot easier." Gnembon admitted. "Words can't express how brilliant you've been, Xisuma, without you we'd know next to nothing about this case."
"And I'll keep helping if it means bringing my family to justice." Xisuma promised. "Now, I hate to cut this short, but I'm very late for something and I'd rather stay on the other Admins' good side. Thank you again for everything!"
Tango had only ever meant to look at the portal. He had no intentions of actually going through it, not yet anyway. He was only going to look, then go back home and take the time needed to reasonably think this through. At least, that was the plan, but if there was one thing that plans were very good at, it was going awry.
The thing is, when 3 guards are chasing after you and you're facing either a strange portal or a long time spent in prison for trespassing, suddenly the ominosity of the unknown becomes very alluring. Most people, reasonable or not, would go through the portal to save themselves the trouble of getting attested, and Tango was one of those people. However, what most people didn't know was that portals are wildly unpredictable, and perhaps the prison time would have been better for him in the end.
And, like most people, Tango had no means of knowing that the portal would send him to the middle of nowhere. It was certainly an unpleasant surprise, and so was the realisation that no portal had been left behind to bring him back. He was stranded in an unfamiliar dimension, with nothing to defend himself and no knowledge of where he was.
It was a very strange place. The grass was green, the sky was navy and full of stars, the dirt was soft and brown, and the trees were of a similar green to the grass. All of the new colours and surroundings were stunning, but in a situation like this Tango couldn't exactly find it within him to appreciate them. An unknown and scary feeling was settling in, something that most would simply refer to as the cold, but similarly to 'pacifism', 'cold' wasn't a word in Tango's vocabulary.
He heard something in the distance, footsteps along the winding dirt road. Surely it was too late for any reasonable person to be taking a walk in the middle of a pine tree forest, so could it have been one of the many monsters of the Overworld? It sounded like the striders back home, only Tango was unsure what an Overworld strider would look like. Maybe they were made out of trees.
However, it wasn't a strider, but instead a person like Tango had initially assumed. He wore green armour, (was everything here green?) grey gloves and boots and a helmet with a purple visor. Through the tinted glass of the visor, Tango could see part of his face, showing dark hair, lively eyes and what was either a scar or a birthmark in the shape of an 'X' above his nose.
On one of his arms, which Tango noticed were covered in scars that didn't seem to be that old, was a wristband with a black screen on it. He recognised it, having seen the Admins that came to the Nether wearing similar ones. But what was an Admin doing in the woods at this time of night?
The Admin eventually noticed Tango, coming to a stop in front of him. The two stared at each other for quite some time, Tango feeling very intimidated by this unusually tall Admin. Eventually the Admin looked him up and down, his frown hidden behind his helmet but visible in his eyes. "...Your hair is on fire."
"Uh, yeah. It does that."
"Ah, I see... Are you alright?"
"No, actually, but thanks for asking. Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm just on my way home. Would you like some assistance getting back to wherever your home is?"
"Yeah, funny you should ask... That's kind of impossible right now. Nor am I particularly eager to go back home at the moment, so I guess I'll be on my way trying to find a temporary one."
"Wait!" The Admin called, stopping Tango before he could walk away. "You're from the Nether right? I happen to know what it's like to end up in an entirely different dimension with no means of getting back home, which in and of itself is a very strange coincidence, but I guess that's not my point. I administer a server specifically for people who don't have any other kind of home, so if you want to stay with us until you can get back home, we'd be happy to accommodate you for a while."
Tango raised his eyebrows. It was very unexpected, getting an offer to temporarily stay on a server that belonged to a complete stranger, but this Admin seemed like a nice enough person and his offer sounded genuine. Besides, a place to stay until he could find his way back home would be incredibly helpful, and Tango wasn't one to decline help when he really needed it.
"Thank you, that's really kind of you. I'm sure having a temporary home would make things a lot easier. I'm Tango, by the way."
The Admin smiled as he opened a glowing blue portal before them, illuminating the dark forest in its light. He held out a scarred hand, once again leading Tango to wonder what had happened to him. "Nice to meet you Tango! My name is Xisuma, and welcome to Hermitcraft."