Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Watchers weren't cruel. That was one of the first things Grian learned, upon being taken to Their realm and remade in Their image. They weren't sadistic, They didn't wish pain on the humans They Watched.

The Watchers were just so removed from the human experience that They hurt people anyways. 

How can a being as vast and incomprehensible as a Watcher understand something like pain or grief? How can They know how tragic death is for a player when They have no concept of it Themselves? 

That's why They took Grian, he thought. To understand the players more. They had tried before, and never quite managed it. The difference between a player and a Watcher was too vast. Their solution was to make a player one of Them. 

It almost shattered his mind, when They took him. One moment he was a normal player, on a server with friends like he should be. The next, he was nowhere and everywhere and he couldn't breathe but he didn't need to in this non-place. Everything hurt, but at the same time, he couldn't feel anything at all. His mind stuttered, trying to make sense of it all. And that was before They showed Themselves. Or rather, before he noticed They had been there all along. 

They were vast, incomprehensibly so. Grian couldn't see where one's body- if it could even be called that- began or ended, not with player eyes. But a part of him was aware, all the same, of the way Their beings stretched towards infinity. For just a moment, he was aware of how he was cradled in one of Their hands, but his brain locked that thought away as quickly as he had it. He would remember later, when his mind was no longer that of a player, and more able to handle the enormity of what he'd experienced. 

The Eyes were the next thing he noticed. Countless Eyes, numbered like stars in the sky. They pointed in every direction in this strange plane of existence-non-existence. And many, to his horror, were focused on him. 

PlayerGrian-LittleTrickster, Something said in his mind. It wasn't loud at all- it was just a whisper in his mind. But it was in every language all at once. Every spoken language that had ever existed or would ever exist, all in one overlapping Voice, and in that moment Grian understood them all. 

He screamed, clutching at his ears, even though the Voice was in his head. There was something dripping from his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was tears or blood. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. The Eyes were still there. 

Careful, another Voice said, much less overwhelming than the first. It only spoke in one language. You are going to break it. 

I am not going to break it, argued the first, still with infinite languages layered in Its speech. Grian cringed at the sound. He barely noticed himself curling into a ball, his entire body shaking. 

Oh, the first said again, but in one language now. Grian slumped in relief. Players, such fragile things. 

Grian didn't know where he found the courage. He was trembling, and his mind felt like it had melted just from being in this place. But he forced himself up, and asked: “What do you want from me?” 

We Watch, but We do not understand, said one. 

The players, you are so different and small. You feel things, do things, and We do not understand. 

We are meant to Watch.

But what use is Watching without knowing? 

What use is seeing without understanding? 

You will teach Us 

And We will teach you. We will know what it is to be a player

And you will understand what it is to be a Watcher. 

And before Grian could protest, or even process what they meant by that, he felt a pull at his very being. 

Players were not meant to feel their own code. That was why Admins existed, so the awareness of such a thing didn't drive players mad. Code was the soul, the life force of a player, and to feel it was impossible. 

Grian could feel his code. 

As the Watchers touched him, he felt an Awareness. He knew his own code with a horrible, sudden certainty. Millions of strings of pure information, things he had barely known existed seconds ago, were now as second nature to him as his own name. 

And then. 

A pull. 

His code s t r e t c h e d. 

And he was a player no more. 

Even after years of being a Watcher, that memory never fully returned. The only thing he could remember of his transformation was the way he had screamed, and that there was so much pain. 

When he finally came to, he was He, and He was a Watcher. 

The two other Watchers still towered over Him, but not nearly as much as before. He could feel Them, now, reaching out to brush against His mind. There was curiosity and eagerness as They reached out to Him. It was instinctive to reach back, sending His own horror and fear at what He'd just experienced. 

They were confused now, and worried. And this was when Grian, soon to be renamed Xelqua, realized just how little Watchers understood players. They hadn't meant to hurt Him; They had meant this as a gift. 

Grian became Xelqua, and learned what He could from the Watchers. He tried to show Them how players thought. They tried to learn, but They would never understand players. They couldn't even understand Xelqua, even as much like Them as He now was. 

They never quite got why Xelqua was so upset upon being turned into a Watcher. They didn't understand His grief at never interacting with any players, with His friends, again. They didn't understand that Watching could not fill the hole in His heart. 

They cared about Him, in Their own strange way. But They would never, could never understand Him. And so, Xelqua left. 

It was years of solitude and Watching before Xelqua found something that sparked hope. In a way, He had the Watchers to thank for the way he intrinsically knew His own code. He also had Them to thank for mutilating Him into no longer being a player in the first place, but He'd decided to stop being bitter years ago. (The feelings never truly left.) 

It was a long shot, and a tricky enough procedure that He'd destroyed several empty worlds just testing it out. But in the end, Xelqua learned how to twist His code. He made himself a new body, and stuck His entire being safely inside. 

It was strange and limiting, frightening even, experiencing reality as a player again, but it was worth it. Because He could speak without blood leaking from anyone's ears. He could walk without shredding the world to pieces. He could see without His Eyes piercing into every piece of code on a world. 

He could live as a player again. 

And so, Xelqua became Grian once more. 

***

Chapter Text

“Grian, I'm gonna kill you!” 

The builder cackled as Cleo stumbled out of their workshop dripping wet and covered in glitter. She was glaring daggers at him as he soared away, using a tactical rocket to aid his escape, but he could hear the fondness beneath her exasperated cry. 

Was it a good idea to start a prank war with Cleo, who forgave but never forgot and was more than likely to retaliate tenfold? Definitely not. But Grian never claimed to be known for his self preservation. And the picture he'd snapped of them looking baffled and glittery was totally worth it. 

As Grian landed safely at his own base, he noticed some glitter on the end of one wing. He gave a token effort to brush it off, but he was resigned to the new decoration until his next respawn. Some things, like glitter, could only be destroyed through death. 

Well… death or some sneaky code manipulation, but Grian refused to even consider the idea. He preferred living like a player, no matter how annoying glitter in his feathers or a particularly bad cold could be. His Watcher powers were for emergencies only, and glitter was decidedly not that. 

Grian shook his head. He would just have to take solace in the fact that Cleo was also dealing with glitter in her… well her everywhere, really. Once again, worth it. 

Ding! His communicator went off, and he checked, expecting a declaration of war from Cleo. Instead, to his surprise, it was an invitation from Zedaph of all hermits. 

<Zedaph: hey G! If you're not busy, I could use your swanky code vision to help with this project.> 

<Zedaph: there are cookies for a bribe and/or gift as well> 

Well. Grian was sold. He grabbed a few extra rocks for the journey, and launched into the air. 

Nobody knew that Grian was a Watcher. And really, how could they know? Most players barely knew anything about Watchers, and the ones that did only knew them as terrifying beings beyond comprehension. A Watcher was a creature of unimaginable power that didn't interact with players. Grian was a short avian hybrid with a penchant for pranks. 

The two ideas were just incompatible. 

But Grian trusted the hermits. They were an odd bunch, collectively, and he wasn't talking about just their personalities. Hermitcraft was a place where outcasts tended to flock. So something like a strange ability to read code? That was something Grian could share, and nobody batted an eye. 

Now, what Zedaph could possibly need that skill for? That was a mystery to Grian. But he liked helping his friends, even the ones that tended to blow him up by accident (or on purpose.) 

When Grian arrived, both Zedaph and Tango standing there looking excited. The avian knew he was in for a wild ride today; if those two were experimenting together, he suspected explosions were in his future. 

Within seconds of landing, a stack of cookies- still warm- was shoved into his arms. A bit bemused, he took a bite out of one and stuck the rest into his inventory. The two redstoners were practically vibrating in excitement, and Grian barely had a chance to say hi before he was being dragged into their lab. 

“Ok, so this time it's probably not going to blow up,” Zedaph said as he tugged Grian along, “but we want you to take a looky and see if there are any dangly code problems.” 

“Dangly code problems?” Grian repeated, amused. 

“Yep!” Tango said. “It's fine if it explodificates, but we don't want to cause a glitch or anything.” 

“No making extra work for Xisuma!” agreed Zedaph. 

As if summoned by the mention of his name, all three of their communicators dinged. Grian glanced down, seeing a message from X about the server restarting in a few minutes. 

“Should we wait until after the restart or…?” 

“No, no,” Zedaph said with a wave of his hand. “This should only take a minute. We just need you to take a peek!” 

“I can try,” Grian said. “You guys know I don't actually know all that much about code, right? Like I can see it but that doesn't mean I understand it.” Not without using his Watcher powers, at least. One downside of being stuffed into a player form was that he didn't have access to all of his knowledge- it would give him quite a headache if he was carrying around all he'd learned as a Watcher with a player mind. 

“Welllll we kind of wanted to consult Doc,” Tango said with a laugh. “Since he knows more about world breaking contraptions than we do…” 

“But he's not available,” finished Zedaph. 

“Oh, so I'm just the second choice!” Grian said with a mock offended gasp. 

“What? Nooo,” Tango said with a giggle. 

“Absolutely,” said Zedaph at the same time. 

Grian snorted. “Fine, I see how it is. You only want me for my all-seeing eyes.” 

“ All-seeing eyes ,” Tango mocked with a snicker. “And we call Ren the dramatic one.” 

“What’s this ‘contraption’ even for, anyways?” 

Tango and Zedaph immediately launched into an explanation that… well, Grian kind of tuned out as soon as they started. He had an extremely basic knowledge of redstone. Enough to do a few farms and traps, definitely not enough to understand what the two were saying. It wasn't even T-flip-flops or Etho hopper clocks, things he didn't really understand but had heard the terms for. No, it was things like degree alignment and tick manipulation. Yeah, far above Grian's head. He'd leave all the quantum entanglement or whatnot to them and Doc. 

He shook his head as they finally made it to the main event: the contraption. It was… big. And weird. Honestly it just looked like a spaghetti bowl of redstone to Grian. And… was that a pig in there? It made no sense to him. But he was here to look at the code, not the machine itself. 

Honestly, he was just here to make sure they hadn't made some world ending monstrosity by mistake. Sure, he didn't understand code as well as an admin might, but he'd be able to pick out any bits that were mangled or incomplete. That was something he could do, easy as…

Grian froze. Even with his vision limited, he could see the wrongness twisting through the code. He'd never seen anything like this. It was like the code itself had become a bomb. 

“What,” he breathed, horrified. “What did you two do?” 

This thing was volatile. Any activation, any wrong move and the code would, for lack of a better word, implode. Anything in its radius would be drawn in and… well… wiped from existence. No respawn, just complete obliteration of body and code alike. Grian might survive it, Watchers were built differently to players, but his friends absolutely would not. 

“Hm? Well we were trying to isolate this strange interaction we found with-” 

“We need to get away from this thing,” Grian interrupted. 

“What? Is it that bad?” Tango asked. 

“Worse,” Grian said tersely. “One of you message X- actually, no, evacuate first. Come on, let's go, we should get a hundred blocks from this thing, minimum. ” 

Tango and Zedaph looked incredibly confused, but didn't fight as he started dragging them away. 

“Is it going to explode or something?” Zedaph asked as they made their way out of the lab. Grian hesitated. 

“Not exactly. Do the words ‘code implosion’ mean anything to you?” He asked. From the way both of their faces went deathly pale, it did. They picked up the pace. 

Grian wished they hadn't built their… death machine so far underground. Once they got outside, they could fly away- he glanced at his friends to make sure they were both wearing elytras. That would be much quicker than running, but until then they were stuck. 

Really, Grian was being paranoid. They'd probably built this machine days ago, and it hadn't imploded yet. But the glitchy, volatile code grated at his very being. His instincts screamed wrongwrongwrong and he needed to get away from it. Needed to get them away from it. 

They were almost out of the lab when it happened. A cheerful ding sounded from all three of their communicators. It was time for the server restart. 

Grian had forgotten about the restart; that was the worst thing that could possibly happen right now. If anything was going to set off that mess of code, it would be a server restart. 

He could feel Tango and Zedaph tensing beside him, likely realizing what he just had. He could feel the server restarting and… the code imploded. 

Grian only had a fraction of a second to react.

The thing about Watchers and time was that… well, that it wasn't really a thing for Watchers. Staying in the flow of time was a completely optional thing, and hadn't that been mind bending for Grian- or rather Xelqua, at that point- to discover? 

Were he in his Watcher form, he could simply step outside of time for a bit. Of course, that wouldn't fix the problem, and honestly Grian wasn't sure he could be precise enough to stop the implosion without also hurting Tango and Zedaph. 

Were he just a player, well. He wouldn't have realized anything was wrong. He, Zedaph and Tango would have been completely vaporized, codes entirely wiped from existence, in the blink of an eye. They wouldn't have even noticed, really. Nor would anyone else, as they would never have existed at all. 

As it was, Grian couldn't step out of time with the same ease as a Watcher, not without completely dismantling his connection to his player body. And with how entangled he was… well, he didn't have the time for that. 

Still, for all that he had transformed himself into a simulacrum of a player, Grian was still a Watcher. He was not powerless. He had a split second to react, but that was more than enough. 

He couldn't stop the implosion. But he didn't need to stop it. He just needed to get his friends out of the danger zone. As long as he could do that, they would be safe. And the only way he could think of to do that? Well…

Grian tasted ozone on his tongue as he drew his power to the surface. The air pressure dropped, and he was vaguely aware of his ears popping. All it took was a wave of power. 

<Tango fell out of the world.>

<Zedaph fell out of the world.>  

With his power so close to the surface, he could feel them reappearing at spawn. He could feel all of the hermits. Most at their bases, some wandering the shopping district. Nobody else was in the radius of the implosion. …nobody except - 

“Oh void ,” Grian muttered, and his vision went white. 

***

Chapter Text

The last thing Tango remembered before waking up at spawn was hearing the *ding!* of his communicator and knowing he was about to die. And worse: Grian and Zedaph were about to die alongside him. 

In the split second before everything went black and his stomach swooped like he'd fallen into the void, he'd felt incredibly guilty. 

Sure, their instant transporticator device had been Zed’s idea originally. But it was Tango's idea to add the quantum pig idea he'd gotten from Doc- long story - and that was the reason the code had been questionable at all! At least, that was Tango's theory. 

Tango had messed up while experimenting with redstone and/or code before. A lot. He'd crashed servers before! But he'd never messed up bad enough to cause a code implosion. 

A freaking code implosion. That was the stuff of ghost stories. Tales of holes in the world, and people who stopped existing. People who were wiped not just from existence, but from memory too. Permadeath was one thing but that… that was pure nightmare fuel. 

The worst part was how Grian had been dragged into this. Not that he felt much better about Zedaph being caught in a code implosion, but he and Zedaph were the ones to actually build the thing. Grian had only come to check the code, and here he was, in danger of complete non-existence. All because of Tango. 

And then, right when Tango had been certain the three of them were about to go poof, he opened his eyes at spawn. 

Shakily, he held up his hands. Yep, they still existed. So did the rest of him, apparently. Movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention to Zed, who had just plopped on the ground. He looked about as shell shocked as Tango felt. 

How… how were they alive? 

His communicator buzzed, shaking him out of his reverie. 

<ZombieCleo: you two ok?>  

…Wait. Two? 

He looked up in the chat. 

<Tango fell out of the world.>

<Zedaph fell out of the world.>

Where was… 

“Grian?” He said, looking around frantically. Spawn was empty, save for him and Zedaph. 

“Maybe. Maybe he's at a bed somewhere?” Tango muttered, panic spiking. He looked over to Zedaph. The other hermit had snapped out of whatever daze he was in, and met Tango's eyes, his own wide and horrified. He was paler than when they'd heard the words “code implosion” and looked like he might be sick. Tango got it. He was feeling pretty queasy himself. 

“He- he's gotta be at his own bed, in his own base, right?” Tango said desperately. 

Grian couldn't be… 

“W-we remember him,” was all Zedaph could manage. It wasn't much but it eased Tango's panic just a little. 

They remembered Grian just fine, so he hadn't been wiped from existence… right? He had to have escaped the implosion some other way. 

“I'll go look for him,” Tango said, taking a wobbly step forward. His inventory was empty, but he didn't want to waste any time trying to get geared back up.

“We… we need to tell X,” Zedaph said, voice shaky. “You go look for Grian. I’ll message him.” 

Tango breathed out a shaky thanks, and took off running towards Grian's base. If he had to sit and wait, he was going to explode. 

It would be fine. He would find Grian at his base, maybe a bit shaken but ok. Everyone would be ok, and Tango could apologize and maybe years in the future they'd laugh about this. 

It had to be ok…

*** 

Xisuma had never felt his heart drop faster than when he read Zedaph’s message. 

A code implosion… it was an admin’s worst nightmare, because there was so little that could be done about it. 

As soon as he saw the message, he frantically checked through his data on all of the hermits. Nobody was missing, but he knew deep down if there was, he would never know. It was already too late. 

What was really bugging him was Grian’s death message. Or rather, his lack of a death message. He couldn't have been taken by the code implosion - Xisuma remembered him and his data still existed on the server. But… his data was odd. It wasn't glitched or anything like that, but it was frozen. 

It was like… well, it was what data looked like after a permadeath, but instead of being grayed out, it was still active. The sight was both reassuring and extremely concerning. Reassuring, because at least Grian was alive. Concerning because… who knew in what state the avian was in with data like this? Xisuma needed to find him as soon as possible. 

“Please be ok,” he muttered as he refreshed the frozen data yet again. He couldn’t lose one of his players. He couldn’t. 

***

There was a hole in the world. No void, no code, just emptiness. Emptiness, and one disoriented Watcher. 

Xelqua opened his eyes… His eyes?… no, that was too bothersome, he’d gotten used to lowercase these past several years. It was easier to just keep the pronouns the same as Grian’s had been. 

Oh, Grian… while a part of him was and always would be Grian, that name belonged to a player, not a Watcher. His player body had been destroyed in the code implosion, and his identity as Grian with it. He could rebuild that body, but it wasn’t a simple task. He had a feeling he would be Xelqua for a while. 

Xelqua filtered Grian’s memories through the knowledge he now had. Players were… silly sometimes. They lived so wholly in the present that it was easy to make short-sighted decisions. Grian was no different. Getting caught up in a code implosion was quite reckless. 

But… well, with an outside perspective, which Xelqua now was, there hadn’t been much Grian could do about a code implosion like that. Especially while in the body of a player, Grian had done the best he could. Sometimes, accidents happened. 

And ow. Grian hadn’t really known what would happen to him, but Xelqua wished his player self had come up with a better plan than taking a code implosion to the face. They hurt, even in Watcher form. His code was still smarting from it. 

However, that wasn’t the biggest problem of Xelqua’s current predicament. No, that would be the way he was trapped in a voidspace on an occupied server. He could, of course, stay here until the server itself deteriorated around him, but that sounded very boring. 

Well, Xelqua was only trapped in the sense that moving into the actual physical space of the server would tear it to pieces and likely permakill anyone living there. Since those players happened to be his friends- Grian’s friends?- it was not an option. Thus: trapped. 

One silver lining of being forcibly turned into an immortal deity against your will was that immortality came with patience. Inconvenient it may be, but Xelqua was perfectly content waiting until his situation changed. If nothing else, the hermits would eventually move to a new season. 

With a lack of anything better to do in the meantime, Xelqua focused his Eyes and did what came naturally- he Watched.

Tango had messed up while experimenting 

Hermits were an unruly bunch at best, and downright chaotic on an average day.

Doc was an innovator, an inventor. He pus hed the boundary between

To be the admin of Hermitcraft required a lot of patience.

-with redstone and/or code before. A lot.

-fantasy and reality as far as it could go without snapping.

Discomfort crawled down Tango’s spine.  

He'd crashed servers before!

He regularly danced on the line between science and madness-

The sight was both reassuring and extremely concerning.

But when Doc burst into Xisuma’s base, yelling for him-

Reassuring, because at least Grian was alive.

he very nearly snapped at the man.

But he'd never messed up bad enough to cause a code implosion.

and knew entire communities of redstoners who did the same. 

It felt like his hair was standing on end- 

-looked hollow, soulless.

Concerning because… who knew in what state the avian was in with data like this?

-which wasn’t even possible, as his hair was made out of fire.

There were some things players weren't meant to see.

Xisuma needed to find him as soon as possible.

Ah. He might be a bit out of practice- his Eyes hadn’t been that disjointed since his very early days of becoming a Watcher. Still, he got some good information from the exercise. 

Everyone was worried about him, or rather, worried about Grian. Tango was way too guilty about the accident, Xisuma was scared someone actually had been swallowed by the implosion, Doc was heading towards the site of the implosion, Mumbo had gone AFK at the slime farm, but had forgotten to set a timer and would likely need to be fetched at some point, and Joel was a few hours into a terracotta gathering trip.

…That thing about Doc might be the most relevant, actually, considering how close was he to-

“What the hell?” a familiar voice breathed from the edge of the implosion site.

Xelqua turned the attention of a small group of Eyes to where his friend stood, uncomfortably close to the hole in reality. 

You should- he stopped himself. Bad Xelqua, speaking in tongues was not good for players. It hurt the brain a lot, as he remembered well. Even those two words had been enough to make Doc flinch back, which the Watcher felt pretty bad about. Quieter, and in only one language. 

Sorry, he apologized. To his relief, Doc didn’t wince in pain at that. You should not stand so close to the edge.

“You… You’re a Watcher,” Doc said, horror written plainly across his face. Yeah, that was a pretty fair reaction. There was a reason why Watchers didn’t interact with players, ignoring his own extremely unique circumstances. “Why are you here?” 

The code implosion… well, it’s a long story. I would leave, but I’d need to go through your server to do it. Interacting with the physical plane is not the best idea in this form. 

Doc went a little pale at that, clearly knowing enough about Watchers to know how catastrophic that would be. Xelqua wondered why Doc knew more about Watchers than the average player. He’d never mentioned them while Xelqua was Grian, but then Grian never brought Them up either. 

“That- my god. There’s a hole in our server,” said Doc. It was odd to hear him so wrong-footed. It wasn’t that he never got flustered. As Grian, he had pulled plenty of pranks that sent Doc stuttering with annoyance or just bewilderment. Hearing him… scared, for lack of a better word, was uncomfortable.

“There’s a hole in reality.” 

Yes , Xelqua said patiently. Really, he should be taking notes for when he was Grian again. Patience was so much easier as a Watcher. That’s why you should probably step back a little. I might be able catch you if you fell, but interacting with unreality is bad for players.

Doc gaped at him for a few seconds, but finally stepped back from the edge. Xelqua relaxed a little. Of course he would keep Doc from actually falling into nonexistence, but he was not confident at all in his ability to do so without hurting him. Even this level of interaction with a player in his Watcher form was putting him on edge. 

“I… I need to talk to X,” Doc muttered, more to himself than to Xelqua. “You, don’t… don’t go anywhere.” 

Xelqua fought back his amusement, instead nodding sagely. He’d never heard Doc sound so done, not even when Grian and Scar had accidentally destroyed the tunnel bore. He wondered if a Watcher had ever been ordered around by a player like that. 

Doc gave one more discomforted look to the hole in reality, then launched a rocket and flew off. 

Xelqua settled in to wait. 

****

Chapter Text

Discomfort crawled down Tango’s spine. It felt like his hair was standing on end, which wasn’t even possible, as his hair was made out of fire. 

Grian didn’t always put interiors in his base. Not that Tango was judging! He was still a redstoner first and foremost,  no matter how much his friends insisted that he couldn’t call himself ‘not-a-builder’ anymore. Usually, unfinished interiors were more cool than creepy. It was like taking a peek behind the curtain, seeing an empty space and knowing there was so much potential for a hermit to create something incredible. 

But now, with Grian missing, the base felt empty. Where he would usually see potential, Tango saw emptiness. Instead of an active project, everything looked hollow, soulless. 

Tango had scoured every inch of Grian’s base from top to bottom. He’d found every bed in Grian’s area, and several that were definitely in a neighbor’s base. Not a single one held Grian, or even any signs he’d been in them recently. With each empty respawn point, the knot of anxiety in his chest grew and grew. 

A message from Xisuma buzzed on his comm halfway through his search. It was serverwide, asking everyone to let him know if they’d seen Grian. The message was calm and vague, asking for information without causing panic. It made Tango’s heart drop. With every message from a hermit saying that they hadn’t seen Grian in a bit, he felt worse. 

The avian was missing, and it was Tango’s fault. 

***

Doc was not an easily shaken man. He’d been around a long time, and had seen some things. Things he didn’t like to talk about, not even with the other hermits. It took quite a lot to disturb him, and quite a bit more to actually scare him. 

A Watcher on Hermitcraft? That hit his threshold. 

He'd gotten the message from Tango and Zedaph requesting his help when he was in the middle of some very delicate code work, so he ignored it for the time. When he'd noticed their simultaneous void deaths, it was enough to pull him from his focus. He wondered what on earth they did to manage that outcome. From what he'd skimmed of their project summary, falling out of the world shouldn't be a possibility. 

So, he pulled himself away from his code and flew to the site. 

Or, he’d had to correct himself with a horrible pit in his stomach, where the site had been. 

There was a hole in reality that could only have been made by a code implosion. It had him confused at how Tango and Zedaph had escaped with only a respawn. A dark part of him wondered if they were the only two to escape, and there were server members that had been completely wiped from his memory.

And then, somehow, he saw the one thing that was more concerning than a code implosion. The Being sitting… floating?... in the hole in their server. 

Most players were lucky enough to only know the barest details about Watchers. As a man of science, Doc hated the phrase ‘ignorance is bliss.’ There were very few situations in which being uninformed was better, no matter how hard it made it to sleep at night. When it came to Watchers, though, he thought the saying might be true. 

Most players knew barely anything about Watchers. Most players had also not fought god (and won). Doc was not most people. 

He was unlucky enough to know that there was one type of being that admins, devs and gods alike feared: Watchers. 

He was a redstoner, and not one that was content to follow a tutorial. No, Doc was an innovator, an inventor. He pushed the boundary between fantasy and reality as far as it could go without snapping. He regularly danced on the line between science and madness, and knew entire communities of redstoners who did the same. 

That line was a thin one, and though he’d never crossed it, he had spoken to people who had. Some redstoners pushed just a bit too far, and found what was waiting on the other side. Sometimes, it was madness, plain and simple. Other times, when you pushed, the universe pushed back. Shine with a brilliance too bright, and you may catch the attention of things, Beings, beyond your understanding. 

Doc was not one of those poor souls unlucky enough to have met a Watcher. But he had seen the aftermath. He had tried to make sense of the scrambled writings of some who had. He’d sifted through the pieces of a once brilliant mind, a mind that was shattered because of a Watcher. 

They weren’t always cruel, didn’t always break the players they met. Sometimes Watchers helped, though never without a price. He’d met some players who had gambled with the unknown and won, bringing back valuable knowledge and shaking bones.

Hell, one of those players unlucky enough to meet a Watcher but lucky enough to come out with their mind intact was on Hermitcraft. It was who Doc needed now. 

Their admin was the only person Doc knew who had come out of an encounter with a Watcher without even a crack in his mind. If the Hermitcraft server was going to survive this, they’d need Xisuma. 

***

Pearl wasn't sure when the feeling started. It was sometime after the server restart, she thought, but it had snuck up on her.

When Pearl finally noticed that she was feeling off, for a moment she didn't recognize it. She thought she was just tired or maybe even sick, but that didn't seem right. She just felt off, like something was wrong, and it itched at her brain… no, her very being. 

And then Pearl actually did feel sick as she recognized the sensation. 

That wrongness, the certainty things weren't right? It was something she hadn't felt since Evo. 

It couldn't be Them… Hermitcraft was safe, it was supposed to be safe!  

Pearl dove for her communicator, almost dropping it in her hurry. She pressed a button and the tablist flickered to life. 

She scanned it, once, twice, then a third time to be sure. All the while, the pit in her stomach grew. 

There were no unfamiliar names, but only players showed on the tablist. No, the thing that made her heart feel like it was beating out of her chest in panic was that Grian's name was gone. 

Pearl remembered the thrill of jumping into a portal with her friends only for it to turn to fear and worry when nobody else arrived in the End with her. She remembered a dragon fight that she was well prepared for, but that felt grueling facing it all alone. And of course, she remembered Them. 

And then, ten became nine. Grian was gone with no warning, leaving only memories behind. Pearl had feared the worst, especially once she'd left the server for good and done some digging about the Watchers. Nothing good came when players encountered Them. 

But then, Grian came back. He didn't talk about what happened to him, but Pearl didn't care. Not when he was alive and sane. Not when he was here, safe and sound when she thought she'd never see him again. 

Evo had been filled with so much good, and so much pain. Pearl had never forgotten it. And she'd never forgotten how wrong it felt when Watchers had a server in Their clutches. 

The subtle disquiet. The way the air itself seemed charged and heavy; she hated it. 

And now, that feeling was back, and Grian wasn't there. He was gone, without a word, just like before. 

With shaking hands, Pearl sent him a message. Surely, she thought, he couldn't be that unlucky? The message would go through, because Grian had just… left the server for normal reasons. 

The message began to buffer, and Pearl tried not to panic. Five minutes, and it still hadn't sent. Ten, then fifteen- nothing. 

Pearl threw her communicator to the side, unable to look at that stupid buffering signal for any longer. She buried her face in her hands and let out a scream full of frustration and fear. 

It was happening again. Grian was gone. 

***

Chapter Text

“Xisuma!” 

Hermits were an unruly bunch at best, and downright chaotic on an average day. To be the admin of Hermitcraft required a lot of patience. But when Doc burst into Xisuma’s base, yelling for him, he very nearly snapped at the man. He managed to stop himself in time and take a breath; Doc had no idea Grian was missing. It wasn’t fair to take out his fear and frustration on him. 

“Is this something that can wait, Doc?” he asked instead, voice tenser than usual. “I’m dealing with something very-”

“There’s a Watcher on Hermitcraft,” Doc interrupted bluntly, and Xisuma’s words died in his throat. His mouth went dry and he could feel his blood draining from his face. That. Was a very good reason to interrupt. 

“There’s a what.” he said faintly, not even able to make it into a proper question. 

“A Watcher. Oh, and a hole in reality, but the Watcher seemed a bit more pressing.” It was a sad, sad day when there being a tear in the fabric of the universe probably was the less pressing issue. 

“Show me,” he said. 

He really should have expected that Doc would lead him directly to where the code implosion had been. Where else would there be a hole in reality? He briefly wondered if the Watcher had actually caused the implosion, but dismissed the thought. If a Watcher wanted to cause damage to the server, all they had to do was interact with it. Fabricating something as complicated as a code implosion seemed like a lot of effort for a being who could simply will a server out of existence. 

As they approached the implosion site, Xisuma’s eyes fell on the massive Being that sort of… floated at the center of it all. They were hard to focus on, bordering on painful, even for Xisuma who had been inoculated against this sort of thing. 

Eyes, countless like the stars, danced around Them in rings and halos. Xisuma could tell They had wings, but not how many or where the wings actually were. Their body was almost like that of a player… if not for the way it went beyond third dimensional shapes and straight into fourth or fifth. Xisuma knew from experience that looking too closely, trying to actually make sense of what you saw was a recipe for blood leaking from your face. Eyes, nose, ears, anything was a possibility. 

Yet somehow, looking at the Watcher was still easier than looking at the nonexistence around Them. 

It was so empty. It wasn’t the Void- it wasn’t anything like the Void. It was absolutely nothing, not void, space, or even a vacuum. It simply Wasn’t, and that awakened a deep, primal fear in Xisuma’s brain that even the Watcher didn’t. When he tore his eyes away from the nothing, he couldn’t remember what it looked like. He was relieved. There were some things players weren’t meant to see. 

As they neared the Watcher, and Xisuma adjusted to the warped sense of reality, he blinked. They were massive; Xisuma had to crane his head upwards to see Their face, but… 

“They’re kind of small for a Watcher,” he commented quietly. 

“That’s small?” Doc hissed back. 

I’m not a typical Watcher, They said. Chills raced down Xisuma’s spine, and he had to force himself to keep walking. 

‘Said’ wasn’t the right word to describe it. Watchers didn’t talk, They projected what They wanted to say directly into your mind. The one Xisuma had met had spoken in layers at first. Every language that had ever or would ever exist, every tone of voice imaginable. They stopped when They realized that Xisuma’s mind had almost shattered from a few sentences. 

This Watcher was speaking in one language, almost gently. He could hear the amusement lacing Their words as They replied to Xisuma’s little aside. He was just glad They’d been amused rather than taking offense. 

“Usually Watchers avoid servers altogether,” Xisuma said cautiously. He was proud that his voice didn’t shake as he spoke. “That does seem… odd.” 

“Nope, nope, nope, I’m out,” Doc muttered under his breath, slowly backing away. He’d been on edge as soon as the Watcher was in view; apparently Xisuma directly saying what could be interpreted as an insult to the Watcher was his limit. X was a little surprised he’d lasted so long without any prior Watcher encounters. Then again, this particular Watcher seemed unusually considerate of players’ sanity. 

Doc left, presumably to work on locating Grian and keeping an eye out for glitches like Xisuma had suggested he do after bringing him to the Watcher. Doc had seemed pretty determined to stay on their way here, but Xisuma expected him to leave. There was only so much exposure to a Watcher a player could handle; even being trained for the possibility his entire childhood hadn’t prepared him for that first time. 

Your code is strange, said the unusual Watcher with a hum. I hadn’t noticed before. 

Xisuma wasn’t sure if he should be disturbed by the implication that They had been paying attention to him beyond whatever this situation was. It was probably better to not know. 

“You aren’t the first Watcher I’ve met,” Xisuma said as an explanation. A few extra eyes focused on him, seeming to scan him up and down. Xisuma fought back a shudder at the examination. 

Ah, I see. I’m sorry. 

Xisuma wasn’t sure what to do with the somber and very genuine apology. Watchers, both in the lore he’d studied and his very limited personal experience, had no concept of what was upsetting, painful, or violating for a player. 

And then, it clicked. All the pieces of the puzzle Xisuma hadn’t even realized he was assembling came together: a strangely small Watcher, actively trying not to drive players insane, aware that players had feelings. It didn’t make sense for any Watcher but one. 

“You’re Xelqua,” he breathed, a tiny bit of awe creeping into his tone. Of course They- no, He- was sympathetic to Xisuma’s altered code. It was what had been done to Him, to the farthest level imaginable. It had only happened once in all known Watcher lore; a player transformed into a Watcher. Ever since his own… “gift” had been given, he’d felt a strange kinship with Xelqua. 

You know me! the Watcher- Xelqua said. 

Know was an understatement. There was an entire religion based around Xelqua, the once player, ascended to something beyond godhood. Xisuma may not be an active practitioner of the religion, but he was raised in it. Void, he was named for Xelqua, if very subtly. 

“You’re a bit famous,” Xisuma faintly said. 

Really? Xelqua said. He sounded surprised. Watchers weren’t actually emotionless, but it was odd to be able to recognize the emotions being displayed by one. I’ve been a bit… out of the loop, recently. 

And reality came crashing back down for Xisuma. There was a Watcher on his server. That it was Xelqua was the best case scenario, but a Watcher interacting with the physical world at all was terrifying. On his server, potentially putting his players at risk? Doubly so. 

This was not the time to be starstruck. He had a code implosion, a mysteriously appearing Watcher, and a missing player. The Being in front of him was basically omniscient, and seemed benevolent enough. This was the time for answers.

“Xelqua,” Xisuma said, gathering all his bravery and determination to care for his players, “what exactly are you doing on Hermitcraft?” 

***

Chapter Text

Xelqua had not expected Xisuma to be so composed. It was a good thing- he didn’t want to put a strain on anyone’s sanity, especially not his admin’s- but it was surprising. Even Doc, who clearly had more knowledge about Watchers than most, had struggled to interact with him. 

When he saw the strange alteration in Xisuma’s code- something that was clearly Watcher work in hindsight- he understood. From a guess, Xisuma had encountered a Watcher, and upon noticing that he was ‘breaking,’ They had altered his code so he could withstand a conversation with Them and not shatter. Because that was the most logical course of action, not just stopping the interaction so They didn’t hurt him further. 

At least it was a step up from actually destroying his mind… Xelqua had to take what he could get when it came to his fellow Watchers. Honestly, this was why he didn’t visit. 

Still, Xisuma was full of surprises. Encountering a Watcher was one thing. But he recognized Xelqua. Had Named him. He definitely didn’t understand the significance, either. 

It wasn’t like Xelqua’s name was a secret. Clearly it was the opposite if even players could Name him just by seeing him. But Watchers didn’t really do names in the same way other beings did. 

Xelqua could count on one hand- er, player hand- how many Watchers he knew the Names of. But Xisuma knew his. 

And then, because Xisuma was an incredible admin, even in the face of an unexpected Watcher, he began to question Xelqua. Interrogate him, even. 

It was a bit difficult to explain why and how exactly he’d gotten here, so he didn’t. Why he was here wasn’t the real problem anyways- it was how to get him out. 

I’m a bit stuck, you see, he explained. Normally, I wouldn’t be physically on a server at all. But the code implosion…

He shrugged, which probably looked a bit strange in his Watcher form. “Code implosion” didn’t actually explain why he was on Hermitcraft, but he could probably get away with being vague and letting Xisuma draw his own conclusions. One of the few perks of his current status as an immortal eldritch being was that it was hard to question him. 

Since I’m in this nice little pocket of unreality, I’m not causing any damage. But I can’t leave without damaging your server. 

Xisuma stared at him, as if waiting for him to say it was a joke. Xelqua didn’t blame him. When you thought about it, it was pretty ridiculous. An Eldritch Being, stuck in a server like a cat caught in a cardboard box. 

“Does… does this happen often?” Xisuma asked after no ‘just kidding’ statement came. 

I believe, Xelqua said, putting false gravitas in his voice, that this is the first time this has ever happened. In all of existence. We are breaking new ground. 

Xisuma let out a startled laugh, and something settled in Xelqua’s being. Even as Xelqua, he could still make his friends laugh. He’d much rather be in player form, as even Xisuma couldn’t stay exposed to him forever without risking serious mental damage, but it was nice to know that he could still have normal conversations with people as a Watcher. 

Once he got over the shock of a Watcher having a sense of humor, Xisuma went back to business. 

“So, you can’t leave, but aren’t actually damaging the server… how would I go about helping you get free?” 

If you can get every player off the server at once, I can leave without damaging more than just the world itself- it won’t be any worse than a hole in reality.

Xelqua didn’t need to see Xisuma’s face to imagine the pinched expression he was now wearing. Getting every single hermit off all at once before the season actually ended was asking for a miracle. It could happen, but an organized effort to do so was doomed from the start. 

My backup plan is waiting here until you change seasons and abandon the world entirely. 

It was the plan Xelqua had already resigned himself to. Unless Xisuma could get everyone off the server, it was inevitable. 

“The end of the season might be years from now,” Xisuma warned him.

I am patient, he said. Well, as Xelqua he was patient. He felt a wave of amusement as he imagined needing to do this as Grian. He would probably cry if he had to stay in one spot for an entire day in his player form, let alone a year or more. 

“Ok… well, I’ll look for another solution, but I guess it isn’t a pressing issue?” Xisuma shook his head. Nonplussed that he was declaring a Watcher ‘not pressing.’ Then he turned back to Xelqua. “About the code implosion… there were three players in the area when it happened. Do you know what happened to them?” 

What happened to Grian was what Xisuma was really asking there- he knew Zedaph and Tango were fine. But Xelqua supposed he was also wondering how they were fine.

I noticed the code implosion just before it happened, Xelqua started. If Xisuma was paying attention, and he always was, this didn’t quite add up with Xelqua’s explanation for why he was on the server. 

Xelqua had a feeling a lot of his secrets would be revealed by the time this mess was fixed. As Grian, that might have scared him. As Xelqua… it was a lot easier to accept what he knew as a player: that the hermits were trustworthy, and not easily scared off. That his secrets would have eventually come to light, and protecting the existence of his friends was well worth it. 

Still… he'd already shocked his admin enough for today. And Grian had been so careful to keep it hidden. Xelqua would hold onto his identity for as long as he could. 

I was able to send Zedaph and Tango straight to respawn to get them out of the area.

“And Grian?” Xisuma’s question was urgent, and Xelqua felt a stab of guilt for causing him so much worry. “What happened to him?”

Grian is… complicated. He is safe, but you likely won’t see him for a while.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the admin said, voice sharp with his panic.

He’s perfectly fine, Xelqua soothed. It’s difficult to explain.

“Try.” Now that was downright rude. Xelqua might even be offended if it wasn’t so heartwarming that Xisuma was demanding answers about his safety from a Watcher. He just had to ignore that he was also said Watcher. 

Xelqua pondered how to word this next part while not outright lying. He didn't particularly like deceiving his friend, but it had to be done. 

There were issues getting Grian out of the implosion, in that ‘Grian’ didn't make it out of the implosion at all. He's alive, but… dormant right now. I can bring him back, but not until I'm out of here.

Xisuma didn't look entirely satisfied with the explanation. It had been pretty vague, but in Xelqua’s defense, it was all true. Thankfully, the admin didn't push the issue.

“So we can't get Grian back until you're gone,” he muttered, more to himself than Xelqua. Then he turned his attention back to the Watcher. “Is there anything else we can do to get you free?” 

Unless you know how to alter my code, I believe I'm stuck here, he said. 

“I think I need to have a meeting with my hermits,” said Xisuma. “I appreciate you answering my questions.” 

X turned to go, but stopped after a few steps. 

“And… Xelqua?” the Watcher tilted his head. “Thank you, for saving my players.” 

***

Chapter Text

Zedaph shouldn't be here. He knew that, Xisuma would tell him that, heck, the whole server would agree once they knew about the Incident.

He assumed that's what this meeting would be about. Even if code implosions weren't a super well known phenomenon outside of the redstone community, the rest of the server deserved to know what happened. 

After he'd talked to X, Zedaph had been feeling… adrift. He considered joining in on Tango's search for Grian, but… well, it had been quite a while. If Tango hadn't succeeded by now, Grian probably wasn't at his base. Zedaph didn't want to go see Grian’s currently Grianless base. He wanted his friend back. 

When the meeting was called, Zedaph hesitated. Instead of going straight there, he veered off-course. 

If Grian didn't respawn, then maybe he was still the site of the implosion… somehow. 

Zedaph had to at least check. 

Honestly? Zedaph didn't expect to actually find anything. The whole problem with code implosion was that they vaporized anything and everything in the vicinity. One simply didn't survive a code implosion. Nothing did, not even the land itself. 

Yet, when Zedaph approached the site of the accident, there was someone there. 

Someone? Something? 

A towering being floated in the missing chunk of reality that had been the site of the code explosion. Zedaph hesitated to even call them a player; they were nothing like any player he'd seen before. 

Zedaph wasn't sure what they were, really. But he was becoming increasingly aware of the way his head was pounding as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. 

A consequence of being a redstone experimenter was having some mathematical knowledge, sometimes dipping into the theoretical. Therefore, the concepts of fourth, fifth and further dimensions were a concept he'd heard of. 

Actually seeing them, the infinitely expanding shapes that made up the massive being’s body, made his brain feel like it was stretching in ways brains were Not supposed to stretch. 

Zedaph should probably not get any closer. 

Unfortunately for Zedaph, he was a hermit of science. As his curiosity outweighed his common sense, he crept closer. 

Several of the strange floating eyes- he was pretty sure that's what they were- focused on him. There was a staticky feeling that raised the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. He'd felt the sensation subconsciously, only truly noticing when it intensified. The more the being watched him, the more he felt it. 

It's dangerous here, the being said or perhaps projected. It was quiet, like they were trying to whisper. All the same, it made Zedaph’s headache pound more intensely. His mouth felt a little dry. 

Though he ached to prod and question the physics bending person before him, there was a primal sense of fear in the back of his mind. An alarm, blaring danger! danger! that told him to run. With his decision-making wires so crossed, he ended up doing neither, and instead stood staring at the being. 

The staticky sensation faded a bit as fewer of the eyes focused on him. In the back of his mind, he wondered how such free-floating eyes worked, and how he was even able to recognize them as eyes. It was almost frustrating that he couldn't ask the questions building up in his mind. 

Yet another part of him was becoming increasingly alarmed at the way he couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from the Being, even as the pain in his head reached migraine levels. Whatever this Being was, They were beyond a player. Zedaph wasn't sure divine was the right word to describe Them- otherworldly, perhaps. 

Zedaph felt a warm trickle running down his cheek. He wondered if it was a tear or blood.

The fear was becoming more powerful now. Staring at this Being, this [{Wat c h e r}] was hurting him. Killing him. But he couldn't move a muscle. 

Zedaph, They said, sharp enough that all of his focus snapped to Them. You need to leave. 

Zedaph exhaled sharply. Like some invisible chain had been snapped, he stumbled backwards, tearing his gaze away from Them- them. 

Without a word, he spread his elytra and leapt into the air, careful not to look back. 

As he flew, he touched a hand to his cheek. It came back red. 

*** 

Watchers didn't need to breathe. That didn't stop Xelqua from letting out a sigh of relief when Zedaph finally left. 

This. This was why interacting with players was so dangerous in his Watcher form. Even if he wasn't trying to, his presence alone could hurt them. The Watchers were not suitable for player brains, yet there was something about Them that pulled at the senses, demanding attention. 

Someone like Zedaph was especially vulnerable to this, as he had an intense natural curiosity. This, paired with his slightly skewed survival instincts and his lack of knowledge about Watchers in general, were a recipe for disaster. 

If Zedaph had lingered much longer, he could have suffered some permanent mental effects, or even code damage. Even longer, and he might have broken apart at the seams- and that was only mostly a metaphor. 

Of course, Xelqua would not have let that happen. If he hadn't been able to snap the other hermit out of it, he would have sent him back to spawn, like he had with the code implosion. Still, he'd rather not have to force a respawn. He had a feeling it would be a lot less comfortable for any players while in his full Watcher form. 

With Zedaph safely away, and all other hermits either on their way to Xisuma’s meeting or off thousands of blocks away and busy with their own things, Xelqua finally felt safe turning his attention outwards. 

If he couldn't physically attend the hermit meeting, he would just have to attend metaphysically. 

Xelqua Watched.

*** 

Chapter Text

          When Pearl

Zedaph hesitated to even

finally noticed that

          any player he'd seen before.

over the potential

          for a moment

he would never remember

          an Infinite Being.

She thought she was just

but that didn't seem right.

          No beginning

O Watcher, see.

Narrow it down to the Present. Watch, not Then but Now.

she was feeling off,

          call them a player;

she didn't recognize it.

          The only reason Xisuma

A Watcher is

wasn't agonizing

          tired or maybe even sick,

they were nothing like

‘O Timeless One,

          loss of a servermate

Eyes of the Infinite;

          was because of Xelqua.

and no end.

Too great of a timeframe… too many thoughts… 

The Now for the players, not for a Watcher. 

     In a spacious room, filled with tables, chairs, beanbags, and other seating areas, the hermits are gathering. 

Yes, there It is. 

     The hermits are gathering. The admin, Xisuma, refrains from pacing, though it requires great effort. His body vibrates with unspent nervous energy, but he holds himself back for the sake of his players. 

TangoTek, Tango, is already in the meeting room, feeling unsettled. He is terrified for his friend, having been unable to find him. He is antsy for the meeting to start, hoping to hear news about Grian. 

Doc is staring at Xisuma with a keen eye, looking for any sign of damaged sanity. The redstoner feels guilty for abandoning his admin to face a Watcher alone, no matter that said admin had requested he do so. 

Mumbo is still AFK, having a slightly stressful half-dream involving structural chickens… but that is far from the meeting room, and thus should be ignored for now. 

The meeting room is not full, a few hermits still missing. Some are on their way, and some will not make the meeting, but will be filled in on the important bits by others later. 

Xisuma knows who is coming, and is performing a silent headcount as each hermit arrives. It is unnecessary, but eases his anxieties somewhat. 

Pearl walks in, and immediately her shoulders go tense. She looks around, sensing something, a Presence. Goosebumps raise on her arms and her heartbeat starts to speed up as she recognizes the feeling of bei n g {W a t c h e d - }

Stop.

…Not Pearl. She can feel it. It scares her… 

Carefully now, everywhen-where-one but her. 

     Almost everyone is here now. The chatter that is present at every meeting- though today it is slightly subdued as the meeting is apparently a serious one- slowly starts petering out. 

Zedaph finally flies in, fumbling the landing a little. He still feels shaken from his otherworldly encounter. A few hermits take notice as he makes his way to a seat, oddly subdued. 

Tango wonders what took him so long to arrive, as he is pretty sure Grian's base is farther from the meeting room than Zed was. 

At first Xisuma wonders the same, but then he notes a spot of red at the corner of Zedaph’s eye the other hermit didn't quite manage to wipe away. He makes a shaky mental note to warn the hermits to stay away from the implosion site. 

Doc, as well, notices the lingering signs of psychic damage. Panic spikes in his mind, and he hurriedly makes his way towards Zedaph, intent on making sure the other is alright… as well as indulging in some light interrogation. 

Pearl sees. Pearl is already on edge, she's been feeling signs of Them all day. Of course she sees it. 

She felt one when she walked in. The unmistakable feeling of Eyes, directed at her. 

Her skin feels cold and clammy, something's watching her it's Watching- T he y re Wa t c hi n g

Enough. 

*** 

Xelqua closed all but a handful of his eyes. He did not need to see the meeting badly enough to send Pearl into a panic attack. 

Some part of him, the curious, nosy player bits that never went away, burned at the loss of information. Even with the patience of an immortal Being outside of time, it was hard to tear his attention away from the meeting. 

But he did. 

And even if he were Grian instead of Xelqua, he would do the same. 

Pearl was, all of his friends were, far more important to him than curiosity. 

***

Pearl nearly fell out of her seat when she felt the crawling, itching Watching simply vanish. 

She'd been sitting on the very edge, positioned so that she could run if necessary no matter how useless running was against one of Them. 

She didn't relax, exactly, but it was a relief to not have a Watcher- oh void please just be a Watcher, any more than that and she wouldn't be able to handle it- actively Watching her. Well, the meeting room as a whole, but if she was in the meeting room, it counted. 

She was very pointedly not staring at Zedaph. Pearl only occasionally glanced over, irrationally scared he would suddenly vanish. 

If she'd needed proof of a Watcher presence, he would have been plenty. Back on Evo, bloody noses, bleeding ears, red tears, they were all common enough to become routine. The sight of one of her fellow hermits with blood still at the corner of his eye had been chilling. 

If the feeling of Eyes hadn't withdrawn, she wouldn't have made it through this meeting. Pearl was already struggling to stay in her seat and not flee the server or quite literally shake Xisuma down for answers. 

Finally, though, most of the hermits had gathered and Xisuma started clearing his throat. 

All Pearl could do was hope her admin knew what happened to Grian. 

*** 

Chapter Text

There was no worse feeling in the world than being the bearer of bad news. 

Xisuma had agonized over how he might start this meeting - there was really no good way to begin. It was just bad news on top of more bad news. The one good piece of news, that Grian was safe, was dubious at best because of the vagueness of that assurance. And it couldn't be shared until everything else had been. 

Did he start with the worst news and go from there? Which was worse, the Watcher or the code implosion? Before, he'd have said the Watcher. Now, knowing it was Xelqua, the one Watcher that could be described as benevolent, he was inclined to say the implosion. 

In the end, Xisuma decided to start from the beginning and go from there. 

“Hi, everyone, sorry for the late notice on this meeting. It's been… an eventful day.” 

The lingering good mood from the pre-meeting chatter faded as his hermits heard the exhaustion in his voice. 

“I wasn't sure how to start this meeting… I've got a lot of news, most of it bad, but I think it makes the most sense to tell you in the order I learned it.”

There was confusion and concern on most faces. Zedaph seemed… more out of it than anything else, and both Doc and Tango wore grim expressions. …For that matter, so did Pearl. She'd been especially antsy before the meeting, Xisuma had noticed, but he was too busy worrying about Zedaph's apparent encounter with Xelqua. She must have figured something out; Xisuma wondered if it was the implosion or the Watcher… 

“You may have seen the death messages in chat earlier of Zedaph and Tango falling out of the world. What you likely didn't know is that this coincided with a code implosion at their location.” 

Every redstoner in the building went pale. After a brief explanation of what a code implosion actually was for the uninformed, the rest of the room looked just as shaken. Xisuma wasn't even at the worst part yet. 

He hesitated. It felt too cruel to say the next part without at least a little reassurance. 

“As far as I know, and as far as the data suggests, nobody was permakilled in the implosion.”

It was a cold comfort to those who truly understood code implosions. The only reason Xisuma wasn't agonizing over the potential loss of a servermate he would never remember was because of Xelqua. If anyone would know whether or not a player was wiped from existence, it was a Watcher. 

Tango, who didn't have the same reassurance, curled in on himself. He felt a pang of sympathy. Xisuma would need to check in with him soon. They hadn't talked at all since the implosion, and Tango was clearly taking on more than his fair share of guilt. Xisuma, of all people, knew exactly what that looked like. 

Cold comfort as his words were to some, they were still necessary to soften the next blow. 

“Tango and Zedaph were not the only two on site.” 

Dread suffused the room. 

“Grian was also caught in the code implosion, but did not reappear at spawn. His player data is still active, and reading him as alive. But he is missing.” Xisuma swallowed. He wondered if he should share the ‘dormant but safe’ tidbit Xelqua had given him, but decided it should wait until after he explained the Watcher. 

“So that's why you were asking about him in the chat,” Gem muttered. 

“No wonder he isn't answering his comm,”  said Impulse, worry threading his voice. 

“And for the last bit of news-” 

A whispered “there's more?” came from a despairing hermit, but Xisuma didn't catch who. He grimaced, but continued. 

“There is currently a Watcher on Hermitcraft.” 

Utter silence. 

It was easy to tell who knew of the Watchers and who didn't. Horror, dread, disbelief. Those were the players who knew. It wasn't many, but it was still surprising just how many hermits knew of the Watchers. Or at least knew enough to be understandably scared. 

The other reaction was confusion. A few hermits, like Impulse, Scar and Etho, were frowning as if trying to remember something. The rest seemed to have never heard of Watchers at all. 

There was one exception: Pearl. While she looked vaguely ill, she also didn't look surprised in the slightest. Instead, she seemed exhausted. Resigned. Xisuma made a mental note to talk to her after the meeting. A reaction like that, to a Watcher? They needed to talk. 

Before he could think any more on that, Joe stood up. His gaze met Xisuma's, unwavering. 

“Do we need to evacuate the server?” 

This caused a wave of muttering through the gathered hermits. A true emergency evacuation, the only kind that could guarantee that every player left the server, was a messy thing. It was essentially a force ejection of every player, something that would scatter them across the worlds with no rhyme or reason in a quite unpleasant manner. It was something he would only use in the most dire of situations. Not even Season 8 had been bad enough for that. 

Xisuma hesitated in his answer, which was a mistake. He could practically feel the panic in the room spiking. 

“I don't think the server is in immediate danger,” he said carefully. “But evacuating- or rather getting everyone off-world, somehow, would clear the situation up sooner.” 

Questions flew across the room. 

“What is the ‘situation,’ exactly?” 

“What's a Watcher?” 

“Is a Watcher what that big scary fella was?” 

“Is the code implosion the Watcher’s fault?” 

Xisuma held up his hands, feeling a little overwhelmed. The chaos simmered to a stop after a few seconds. 

First things first… how could Xisuma possibly explain a Watcher? Perhaps noticing his struggles, Doc stepped in. 

“An admin is a person of authority on a server,” he began. “Devs are the authority when it comes to code itself. Gods vary, but are usually on the same level as a dev. Watchers? They're feared by all of the above.” 

The room was dead silent. It was incredibly rare to see Doc genuinely frightened. This was the man who had famously ‘fought god and won.’ But the discomfort in his voice, on his face, was clear as day. 

“‘O Timeless One, Eyes of the Infinite; O Watcher, see,’” a clear voice rang out in the silence. 

Xisuma went ramrod straight at the words. He whirled to face the speaker- Joe Hills, who else could it have been?- his eyes wide. 

It was scripture, part of a sacred poem that Xisuma hadn't heard since his childhood. 

“Where did you hear that?” he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from Joe. 

The other hermit blinked, like he'd surprised himself by what he said. Then, he shook his head slightly, and mouthed later. 

Trying not to sigh, Xisuma added Joe to the list of hermits he desperately needed to have a long conversation with. He really wished Joe Hills quoting scripture from his childhood closed religion had put him at the top of the list. Alas, there was too much happening for that to be the case. 

“Was that… scripture?” Pearl asked. She sounded unnerved by the concept. 

“It sort of slipped out,” said Joe wryly. “Though the language is flowery, the poem that line is from is one of the better descriptions of the Watchers. They're Beings of the Infinite. Outside of time, infinite lifespan, infinite Eyes, even infinite sides. We don't quite know what they are, beyond that.” 

“They're dangerous, is what They are,” Pearl finally snapped. Her eyes were wild, and her fists clenched at her sides. “Any time Watchers are around, people get hurt.” 

A pause as everyone digested that. 

“She isn't wrong,” Doc said. “Watchers are notorious in some of the more esoteric and world-breaking parts of the redstone community. It's rare to return from an encounter with a Watcher sane. And this is when they aren't acting maliciously- interacting with Watchers is inherently damaging to physical beings.” 

“I was raised in a culture that worships the Watchers,” Xisuma said. Every eye turned to him, some more disbelieving than others. “To interact with a Watcher was considered the height of honor. Devout followers trained their entire lives to withstand a meeting, and still expected to come out of it less sane than they started.” 

He had trained to withstand meeting the Watchers. It had still nearly shattered him until the Watcher forcefully changed him. The Watchers were dangerous and it was a very good thing they weren't malicious. 

“So…” the first person to break the silence was Gem. “Why exactly are we not evacuating?” 

Gazes turned towards Xisuma again, who was a little offended by how accusing Doc’s and Pearl’s were. 

“Because,” Xisuma steeled himself, “I recognized Him.” 

“‘Him’?” Joe echoed, immediately catching the unusual pronoun. 

“Recognize… was it the same one that…?” Doc trailed off, not wanting to spill Xisuma's secret. 

“He wasn't the same one I met before, no,” came Xisuma's answer. 

“Before?” Something in Pearl's voice made him turn. “You've met one?” 

She locked eyes with him. The desperation, the understanding he saw… he knew, somehow, that he was not alone. She'd met one of Them too. 

“Wait, but if it's not the same Watcher, then how did you recognize…?” 

Xisuma looked out over his players, his hermits. The meeting had devolved rapidly as soon as the Watchers came up. Everyone was confused, scared, and looking to him for answers. 

“To explain why… I need to tell you a story.” Seeing frustration on many a hermit's face, he hurriedly continued. “It explains why I recognized Him and why I don't think we need to evacuate.” 

Xisuma took a deep breath. He prepared to recite a story he hadn't heard since childhood. 

“I need to tell you the Story of Xelqua.” 

***

Chapter Text

“A Watcher is an Infinite Being. No beginning and no end. They are outside of time. Thus, They do not come into Being; rather, They simply Are. 

All except for One. 

O, listen well, ye children of the void. Hark! The tale of the Player-born Watcher: 

In the vast void of time, there existed the Two. 

One said to the Other, ‘let Us make something new.’

‘Something?’ Asked the Other, ‘or Someone with thoughts?

Who lives and who breathes, who chokes and who rots?’

‘Someone,’ said the One, ‘carved anew from the old. 

A being of flesh we will free from its mold 

From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust,

Why not make this one into One like Us?’ 

And so then the Two, with infinite care

Made note of each Player, from heart to hair.

From code to conduct, from liver to love,

The One and the Other saw all from above. 

Of every player, just one was found,

One player chosen, plucked from the ground. 

Done never again, done never before.

A once simple player, code forged into more. 

From finite to infinite, brought to the stars.

Free from his body, washed clean of scars. 

‘He is done,’ said the One, ‘a work of art:

A Watcher in form, a Player in heart.’ 

And so formed the bridge between Watcher and man 

A Watcher who knew of the players firsthand. 

If ever your faith or your courage does fail, 

Think back, ye child, remember His tale.”

***

Xisuma blinked, only remembering where he was once the recitation drew to a close and there was only silence. It was odd; it had been so long since he’d participated in a ceremony. Yet the memory was so strong, he could practically hear the chorus that followed that particular passage. 

There was no humming or singing, however. Just the faces of his hermits, staring at him in various stages of surprise. Joe was the first to break the silence. 

“I've heard bits and pieces of that story before. Never the full thing, and never His name.” Joe looked slightly awed; he was probably the only hermit who understood just how much Xisuma had shared with them. 

“You wouldn't have,” Xisuma said, then explained for the benefit of the others. “It's a closed religion; I'm surprised you knew as much as you did, Joe. Xelqua Himself is considered sacred. His name is rarely said at all, and definitely not to anyone outside the culture. Normally, I wouldn't share it, even if I'm not part of the religion anymore. However, considering Xelqua is on the server…” 

“It makes more sense for us to know than to not,” Joe nodded. 

Looking at his servermates, Xisuma could tell they needed a bit more of an explanation than his story alone. Pearl especially still looked tense as a wire, seconds away from bolting. It was unsettling to see his normally calm and cheerful player so on edge. 

“The story is very… reverent towards Xelqua, but that's not why I told it.” 

Xisuma took a deep breath. He didn't often talk about what happened to him; the encounter that pushed him away from the religion while simultaneously making him feel a sort of comradery with Xelqua. 

He considered how much he wanted to say. He trusted the hermits, of course he did. But trust didn't make his encounter easy to speak about. 

“I was raised in a religion that reveres Watchers, and yet I still agree with Pearl. They are dangerous. They are so powerful, so Other, that even when They aren't trying to hurt players, They do.” 

While the energy in the room was horribly tense, Xisuma was glad to see that his acknowledgement had mollified Pearl somewhat. He needed her to know that he wasn't underestimating the danger Watchers held; he couldn't. 

“I… have firsthand experience with that,” he continued, and he saw eyes widen around the room. “The first time - and before today the only time - I met a Watcher, it was the worst experience of my life. Every word They spoke was directly into my mind, layered in countless languages. Looking at Them hurt, existing near Them hurt. I think… my sanity was on the edge of snapping. And then there was a pull against my very being. The Watcher… They altered my code. It was too painful for words. The most painful thing I've ever experienced or will experience. But when it was done, I could speak to the Watcher without breaking.”

Xisuma took a moment to breathe. He had gone too deep in his recollection, was trembling a little from the memory. 

“X, I'm going to be honest, the more you talk the more I think we should evacuate,” Cleo said bluntly. There were murmurs of agreement from several of the other hermits. Finally, Pearl spoke up above the muttering. 

“What makes Xelqua different?” she asked. “With the experience you've had, I can't see you just… dismissing a threat for no reason. So, why?” 

“Because Xelqua is different. He was a player once, like us. The story I told makes it sound like a joyous thing, but His code was altered, without His say so. He is the one Watcher who understands enough about players that He can do His best to not hurt us.” 

“But will he, Xisuma?” Pearl pressed, desperate now. “What if he doesn't care, or forgets, or wants to make other players like him? How can you be sure?”

“I can't be sure,” Xisuma admitted, “but I can draw conclusions based on His behavior.” 

“You didn't just see him,” Pearl realized, “You spoke with him.” 

“I did. Honestly, I didn't recognize Him as Xelqua at first. I went to negotiate with whatever Watcher had appeared. It was the way He acted that made me realize who He was. And… the way He apologized, when He noticed what had been done to my code.” 

Xisuma waited for more arguments from Pearl, but she had fallen quiet with a shocked expression. For not the first time that day, he wondered just what Pearl had experienced of the Watchers. 

“Why exactly is He here?” Asked Impulse after a beat. “If He isn't looking to hurt us, but Watchers are inherently harmful, why come to Hermitcraft?” 

“He was a bit vague on the ‘why,’ unfortunately,” Xisuma said with a sigh. “As for why He hasn't left…” 

The admin let out a helpless giggle. Many of the hermits looked at him with great concern. 

“Xelqua is ‘trapped,’ apparently.” He put the word ‘trapped’ in finger quotes, but Pearl still looked at him like he was crazy. Doc, on the other hand, seemed to have a revelation dawning. 

“He is not on the server, the server is around Him. He mentioned it, briefly, before I came to get you, but I didn't really think much of it,” Doc said. 

“Care to elaborate for the rest of the room?” Cleo asked. 

“There's a hole in reality on the server. Xelqua, a Watcher, is in that hole, somehow. Watchers interacting with the physical plane at all is disastrous, maybe even server destroying. Since He's in that hole, he isn't damaging the physical world at all, but he can't leave without going through our server.” 

“That doesn't make him trapped, it puts us on a time limit,” Pearl snapped. Her eyes were wild like a cornered animal's. 

“He described Himself as ‘stuck,’” Xisuma rebutted. “He said He could leave if there was nobody on the server, and said He was willing to wait until the end of the season if necessary.” 

“Xelqua, a Player-turned-Watcher. Still dangerous, but as close to benevolent as a Watcher can get,” Joe mused. “I see why He was revered.” 

“It's still not great, but the situation could be so much worse,” Xisuma agreed. 

“Instead of a world-ending event, it's like we have a large hazard,” said Doc. Xisuma choked a little at Xelqua being described as a ‘hazard.’ 

“Is a Watcher that much worse than a hole in reality?” Impulse wondered aloud. “Because a reality tear would already make the area a hazard.” 

“With a reality tear, you need to stay far enough away that you won't fall in. With a Watcher, you should stay far enough away that you can't even see Them.” Doc’s eyes drifted to Zedaph as he spoke, who was looking a lot better, but was still oddly quiet. 

“Yes, please stay away from the implosion site. Even if Xelqua isn't malicious, being around Him is still dangerous.” 

Xisuma could tell that the warning wasn't enough. The hermits who knew nothing about Watchers were wary, but he knew his players. It was nigh impossible to guard against their curiosity. He pondered how to reiterate just how serious it was, when Pearl stepped in. 

“Being around Watchers causes psychic damage. First sign, your eyes, nose, ears, or all of the above start leaking blood,” she said, her voice chillingly casual. “After that, you start losing things. Depends on the player what; things like depth perception, sense of direction, self-preservation instincts, hearing, the ability to speak. Sometimes they can come back with time. Sometimes, they never do.” 

Every hermit listened with wide eyes, Xisuma included. He knew the signs of psychic damage, of course he did. But the casualness in which they were listed out… 

“If you're lucky,” Pearl said, the word sounding scornful, “you'll gain something instead. Like an extra sense, the ability to speak in tongues, a sensitivity to Watcher activity. But these ‘gifts’ aren't worth it.”

She took a deep breath before continuing. 

“Finally, if you're in proximity with a Watcher for too long, you start to just… unravel. Sometimes the mind goes first, sometimes the code. If you survive, it's… not as the same player you were before.” 

The silence when she was done was weighted. Xisuma was suddenly much less worried about a too-curious hermit wandering too close. He was, however, far more worried about Pearl. 

“Pearl…” 

“I don't trust him,” Pearl cut him off. “I will never trust a Watcher. But I trust you, Xisuma. If you say we don't need to evacuate, I believe you. Just… please, everyone, be careful.” 

And with that, she all but sprinted out of the meeting room, her speed not enough to conceal the way she was shaking. 

Xisuma looked out over the rest of the hermits, who looked just as surprised as he felt. Settled was far from the right word to describe the group; but nobody had questions or objections, nobody continued the discussion. 

“Meeting adjourned,” said Xisuma. 

Then he hurried after Pearl. 

***

Chapter Text

Doc was a man of science. His domain was within the logical and rational, not… emotions. 

He was far from heartless, of course. No matter how much he blustered, every single Hermit knew he was an intimidating exterior wrapped around a soft heart. 

That didn't mean he was good with emotions, or sensitive topics. He was much better with straightforward solutions; advice and actions, not feelings. 

But Xisuma had rushed off after Pearl, albeit for understandable reasons. And the other hermits were either too distracted by the torrent of information they'd received, or simply didn't know enough about the situation to notice their two floundering server members. 

Doc could smell the guilt radiating off of Tango - literally, his particular hybrid status made his senses a bit sharper than the average player’s - and Zedaph had been dissociating for most of the meeting. 

When the meeting came to a close, he noticed Tango wandering off in a daze. Knowing nobody else was able to intervene, he sighed, and steeled himself for the emotional conversation in his future. 

He stood, gently tugging on Zedpah’s collar to get him to follow. That his fellow scientist silently obeyed, simply drifting after him without a word, was frightening. Zedaph was boundless energy and curiosity and creativity. Seeing him so subdued made Doc’s fur stand on end. 

Tango too, was far from his normal self. Even the flames on his body simmered as low as his mood. 

Those two were a mess. Not that Doc was judging; Zedaph and Tango had just survived a code implosion. They were entitled to a bit of flightiness. 

Doc (and Zedaph) caught up with Tango partway down a path that eventually led to Grian's currently empty base. There were other things in that direction, but Doc had no illusions of Tango going elsewhere. 

Now, Doc could call out the other hermit’s name, or perhaps politely tap his shoulder. It would be more courteous. Instead, he chose the most efficient and effective option. 

“... Doc?” Tango said, blinking to attention as he was scruffed by the collar like a misbehaving cat. 

“Come on, neither of you should be going off alone right now,” Doc said, veering off the path and towards Zedpah's, the closest of the three bases. 

Confused though he was, Tango still let Doc lead the way. He didn't need to keep holding Tango's collar, but with all of the recent chaos, it was reassuring. Grounding. 

Once the two implosion survivors had been herded inside, Doc looked between them, trying to decide what to address first. Tango was still confused and Zedaph was still… absent, so he decided to be blunt. 

“Right, are we addressing your survivor’s guilt or Zedpah's psychic damage first?” 

“My what?!” Spluttered Tango. “Zedpah's what?!” 

Tango seemed to notice for the first time how eerily silent Zedaph was. Tango's mood had been subdued all day, so Zedaph could easily be mistaken as the same. But his eyes were too glassy, his body too still. 

“How long has he been like this?” Tango asked, hands fluttering around Zedaph like he was unsure what to do. 

“Since the start of the meeting. His pulse is regular, but he's completely unresponsive.” 

“You said… psychic damage?” Tango repeated. His flames spluttered and sparked erratically. “It's not just dissociation?” 

“He had blood trails,” Doc said grimly, tracing a path on his own face to mimic the tracks he'd seen on Zedpah's. “Must've found the Watcher - er, Xelqua - before the meeting.” 

Tango's face paled a little at that, but he didn't panic. He was determined to help Zedaph, just like Doc. 

They needed to find a way to ground Zedaph, something that wasn't too shocking or distressing. Slapping or shaking a dissociating player was already a terrible idea; doubly so when said player was suffering from probable psychic damage. 

He and Tango pooled their inventories together. Tango still had a redstone shulker on him that contained a stack of packed ice. He pulled it out, and placed a block in Zedpah's hand. Then they settled back to wait. 

Eventually, when the melting ice started to drip onto the floor, Zedaph started to stir. 

“Zed? How you feeling, buddy?” Tango asked once he seemed a bit more present. 

“Mm, fuzzy,” Zedaph said. Doc frowned. He was slurring a little, and it was likely from the dissociation. Doc couldn't help but worry that it was the lingering effects of stretched sanity. 

“And a little buzzy?” Zedaph continued. “Ooh that rhymes.” 

His words became clearer the more he talked, and some of the tension fell from Doc's shoulders. He would still badger Xisuma into doing a full code check-up as soon as possible, but Zedaph didn't seem to have a melted brain. 

“I don't really remember how I got here, which is… probably not good,” said Zedaph. 

“You were dissociating pretty hard. What do you remember?” 

Apparently, though he wasn't fully present, Zedaph remembered most of the meeting. His memories stopped around Xisuma's impromptu poem recitation, which neither Doc nor Tango remembered well enough to perform, much to Zedpah's disappointment. They were able to give a good enough summary for now. Once he was caught up, Doc promptly began his interrogation. 

“You came to the meeting with bleeding eyes,” he began. “You saw the Watcher?” 

“Ah,” Zedaph said sheepishly. “I thought I'd gotten that all off.” 

Doc and Tango had a brief moment of perfect cohesion as they folded their arms in sync and gave Zedaph identical unimpressed looks. 

“Wow, when did you two start mind melding? I'm explaining, I'm explaining!” 

Zedaph was fiddling anxiously with his hands, Doc noticed. It wasn't completely out of character, but it was a sign that he was still feeling high strung. 

Bit by bit, Zedaph explained how he'd stumbled headfirst into Xelqua - “metaphorically!” He reassured them. Doc could actively feel his blood pressure rising the more he spoke. It wasn't Zedaph's fault, or even Xelqua's for that matter. Zedaph was simply one of those people who should not ever, under any circumstance, be near a Watcher. 

“My whole body was just sort of… stuck?” Zedaph tried to explain. “It was like a processing glitch in my brain. Too much information to take in all at once, and I wanted to move but couldn't.” 

Zedaph explained how Xelqua had broken him out of the trance and told him to leave. It was a good thing He had; their admin had been too preoccupied with the meeting, and might not have noticed Zedaph missing for a while. Much longer like that, and Zedaph's dissociative episode could have been permanent. 

Doc hummed thoughtfully. Though he hadn't said anything at the meeting, he'd still been a bit skeptical of the Watcher. No offense to Xisuma, but the admin had very clearly been raised in a cult, and his judgement was a little suspect in this matter. 

But Zedaph's experience was good evidence towards Xisuma being right. The Watcher had not only recognized immediately the damage being done to Zedaph's fragile mortal mind and had intervened. Without permanently altering the mind, body or code of said mortal! 

…The bar was under the void. Considering they were dealing with a Watcher, Doc would take it. 

Zedaph finished his story. Doc listened quite patiently and didn't even rip out any chunks of fur from stress. Tango looked about as frazzled as Doc was pretending not to feel. 

“Wow, I feel loads better now that's all off my chest,” Zedaph said cheerfully. 

“I don't,” came Tango's glum reply. 

“Speaking of,” Doc said, switching targets now that Zedaph seemed relatively alright. 

“Oh, is it Tango's turn for an intervention?” Zedaph hopped on the bandwagon quickly. He leveled a disappointed look at Tango that was actually quite impressive. 

“Tango has somehow developed a guilt complex in less than a day,” Doc started, only to be interrupted by Zedaph. 

“No, no, he's always had that.” 

“Hey!” complained Tango. 

Hm, that made sense in retrospect. 

“It's just especially bad this time because. Er, well…” Zedaph suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable. The scent of guilt in the air doubled, and Doc closed his eyes and pretended to pray for strength. 

“Really? Both of you?” Gods, he was tired. 

“Ok, I know I can be hard on myself,” Tango said, somewhere between defensive and self-deprecating which was an odd mixture, “but this was my fault.” 

“Our fault,” muttered Zedaph. 

“Ok, our fault, but mostly mine.” 

“Pardon? How? It was literally my machine-”

“I was the one who-” 

“-make the transport instant wasn't-”

“-quantum pig was my stupid idea!-” 

“-don’t even know what made it go kablooey-” 

“-my stupid experimental wiring-”

Doc put his fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply. The two stopped their weird reverse blame game and turned to him in surprise. 

“How did he do that, his fingers are covered in fur?” Tango muttered under his breath. Doc pretended not to hear him. (The answer was lots and lots of practice.) 

“Right, both of you shut up and listen,” he said firmly. To his surprise, they actually did. Hermits were a stubborn breed, as were redstoners; he expected more resistance. 

“You are both being stupid. In that neither of you were stupid.” Hm maybe not the best phrasing, but he wasn't a therapist. “Code implosions are terrifying, and the most terrifying thing about them is that sometimes they just happen.” 

For a moment, Doc wondered how to continue. He knew it wasn't their fault, but guilt was rarely logical. Convincing them both - Tango especially - was the hard part. He wished Xisuma or another more emotionally adept hermit were here. Doc simply wasn't used to navigating touchy subjects. 

Well… if he couldn't overcome his weaknesses, he'd have to play to his strengths instead. He slipped into lecture mode. 

“Code is weird, and very finicky. Almost always, if you're experimenting with code, nothing will happen, or you'll cause a glitch. But rarely, pieces will click together in just the wrong way and create an abomination. Even people who study code implosions for a living haven't found a pattern. Trying to take the blame for a code implosion is… well, it's arrogant, really.” 

“But if we weren't messing around… or experimenting with such complicated mechanics-” Doc made a dismissive gesture, cutting Tango off. 

“Yes, yes, it's more likely when you're working with crazy complicated redstone. Because there's more things happening there's more things that can mess up. But it can also happen with simple things. I know a recipe for a code implosion. It takes four things. Anyone could make it, players have made it by accident many times over.” 

He realized at their pale faces that that wasn't the most comforting thing he could've said. 

“There's a plug-in on the server that keeps anyone from making it, accidentally or otherwise,” he reassured them. “The point is, it's not your fault. These things can't be predicted, and they're so rare that it would just be paranoid to go into every single experiment fearing a code explosion could happen.” 

He could tell his words were finally starting to sink in. The guilty scent was no longer in danger of making him sneeze, at least. He doubted the guilt would fully go away- survivor's guilt always clung- but hopefully his words would stick with them. 

“I'm just glad you're both ok,” he said, glancing away to hide his embarrassment. He thought he saw Tango flinch in his peripheral vision, but when he glanced up, the blaze hybrid looked the same as before. 

The buzzing of his communicator stopped him from pondering further. It was a panicked message from Xisuma, asking if he'd seen Zedaph. 

Ah, X must have finished his talk with Pearl and remembered he needed to follow up on that. X was a good admin, even if he could be a little scatterbrained. 

<Docm77: ive got him

Docm77: he was dissociating bad after the meeting

Docm77: he seems fine but u should give him a code check up just in case> 

“Xisuma's messaging me,” he said out loud for the benefit of his friends. “Zedaph, you need a code check up.” 

“What? Noooooo,” came the complaint. Doc huffed out a laugh. Code checks took an hour at best, several at worst, and you had to stay relatively still during the process. Unless it was for a specific challenge, Zedaph hated sitting still.

“It's for your own good!”  

As Doc dragged a half-heartedly protesting Zedaph towards the door, neither of them noticed Tango slipping past them or the scent of guilt still lingering in the air. 

***

Chapter Text

Pearl sat on a half-rotted tree stump in the middle of a forest. Her knees were up against her chest as she tried to breathe. 

She hadn't meant to storm out of the meeting like that; she'd just been too overwhelmed to stay. The Watchers would always be a touchy subject for her. 

Touchy, she scoffed at herself internally. What a tame word to describe the bone-deep terror that rose up in her whenever she thought about those monsters. What a poor way to describe how the very thought of one on Hermitcraft chilled her to the core. 

Xisuma's reassurance… it had helped, to some extent. Players and Watchers were so fundamentally different. The idea that one had become the other? It broke her brain a little. 

Benevolence meant nothing. She'd seen what “blessings” from a Watcher could do to someone. When it came to Watchers, their kindness was worse than apathy; kindness from a Watcher meant they'd noticed you. 

But a Watcher that could actually understand how players worked? It gave her the slightest sliver of hope. Maybe this one's form of benevolence was staying uninvolved. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't end in a shattered server and broken friends. 

Still, being a player once upon an infinity ago didn't make this Xelqua character safe. As she'd told the hermits, simply being around a Watcher was dangerous. She only hoped her warning-slash-trauma-dump had been enough to scare the hermits out of their curiosity. 

A wry smile crossed her face as she remembered her parting words before running off. At least her exit had been a dramatic one. 

The crunching of leaves behind her alerted her to another hermit’s presence. She didn't move from her position, already fairly sure of the other's identity. 

Her suspicions were confirmed when the armored form of her admin settled on the ground beside her. He didn't speak, waiting until she was ready. 

Pearl took a deep, controlled breath, then let it out all at once. She never talked about Evo. She could barely say the name of the server out loud, and she wasn't the only one. Even with Grian, they never addressed it directly, always speaking around the issue. 

But Xisuma was her admin. He had a duty of care, like all admins did, but he went beyond simple admin duties. He dedicated himself to caring for the players on his server with more heart and care than any other admin Pearl had met. If he knew their history… he would know just how suspicious Grian being missing was. He would do something. Or at least try. 

Xisuma had met a Watcher; been altered by one. 

If anyone outside of the Evo survivors could understand, it would be him. 

“It was a long time ago,” she started. Her voice was distant. “Before Grian joined Hermitcraft. You knew we were on a server together, right?” 

Xisuma nodded, the motion just visible in her peripheral. 

“He mentioned it when recommending you as a new hermit, yes. It's also in both of your player data.” Xisuma paused for a moment. “The server name was redacted.” 

Pearl pulled her knees a tiny bit tighter. It wasn't unheard of for a server to be redacted. It happened with quite a few glitches, and sometimes if a crime requiring dev intervention was committed.

In their case, the server redaction was partially to protect their privacy. It was the given reason when questions came up. The server was also redacted to protect them in general. It would do nothing against the real danger, should They show up again, but it kept them safe from the average malicious player. 

“Have you heard of Evo SMP?” 

By the sharp inhale, Xisuma had more than heard of it. Unsurprising. Everyone with even a passing knowledge of Watchers knew about Evo. An entire server held hostage by Watchers, and the admin vanishing for years afterwards. Evo SMP had become the canary in the coal mine. The cautionary tale against getting too experimental with servers and their code lest you draw the wrong sort of attention. 

“It was exciting at first. None of us had ever heard of the Watchers, let alone how they… we didn't know.” 

She swallowed, tugging on a strand of hair. 

“We didn't know,” she repeated. “And by the time any of us noticed just how… bad it was getting, the server was locked down and we were stuck.” 

Pearl dared not look at Xisuma. She could practically feel his eyes boring into her; she knew if she saw anything on his face - horror, sympathy, anything - she wouldn't be able to finish. 

“Grian was the admin, you know. The server was his idea, his passion project…” bitterness leaked into her voice, “and it was him the Watchers took the most interest in.” 

“Void…” Xisuma murmured. 

“He just - you know how Grian is. The rest of us kept our heads down once it got dangerous, but Grian just kept pushing. I think he was trying to take the attention off the rest of us. When he didn't show back up after the dragon fight we…” Pearl gathers herself. “We honestly thought they got angry enough to destroy him, or force a permadeath.” 

Here, Pearl's breath hitched. She tried to speak around the lump in her throat, but couldn't. Blessedly, Xisuma filled the silence, gently. “He came back.” 

“He came back,” echoed Pearl eventually. “And we didn't talk about it. He was alive, he was sane, and Evo was… it was too hard to talk about. Nobody knows what happened to him while he was… gone. And it was over. It was supposed to be over.” 

She chuckled darkly. 

“What you need to know about Grian, X, is that he's like void-damned catnip to Watchers,” she said, voice as sharp and fragile as broken glass. “Gods know why, but even when he's pressing every button he can find, they can't stay away from him.” 

Pearl forced herself to take a breath before she started yelling at Xisuma for something he had nothing to do with. Eventually, she got her emotions back under control. 

“I don't think you understand just how terrified I was when I woke up feeling a Watcher and Grian's coms being deactivated. I was so sure they'd taken him, again…” 

Finally, Pearl turned to look at Xisuma. Every line of his body was rigid with tension. They locked eyes, and she could see the same fear in his eyes that was in her own. 

“I'm still not convinced they haven't.” 

***

Chapter Text

Far too many times, in those first years-centuries-eons of being a Watcher, Xelqua had mourned the loss of the things that made him a player. Things he never thought he could miss left an aching hole where they'd once been. 

Were he still Grian, it would seem preposterous that he could miss being hungry, tired, in pain. He would have scoffed to hear that one day, he would miss feeling a sudden snap of anger, or mood swings in general. 

Yet, as Xelqua, he found himself missing food, sleep, and yes, even pain. He found emotions came much more slowly, and often less intensely than before. He knew that even his deep grief at the loss of his playerhood was far more manageable with a Watcher mind. 

But there was one thing that he kept in full; one trait that no true Watcher had, that not even his transformation had dulled. And, as unpleasant as it could be, he clung to it just as much as he fought it. 

Boredom. 

Granted, he got bored far less quickly than before; however, as his experience of time itself had shifted, that was only natural. The boredom itself had not lessened at all in intensity from when he was a player. If anything, the lack of anything to do as a Watcher - aside from Watch - made the feeling more intense. 

Now, as a Watcher once more on the hermitcraft server, Xelqua was feeling the return of that itching boredom. 

He couldn't move from this single spot. He couldn't talk to anyone but Xisuma without risking their sanity. He couldn't even watch the Hermitcraft meeting without terrifying Pearl.

For a while, Xelqua had entertained himself by Watching the handful of hermits not present at the meeting; however, most of them were absent due to being AFK. Case in point: the one and only Mumbo Jumbo. He might have some of the most entertaining AFK dreams Xelqua had ever seen, but there were only so many variations of weird redstone contraptions or accidents that could be dreamt about before it became repetitive. 

Eventually, Xelqua gave up on entertaining himself through Watching players. Instead, he turned his attention to the server's code itself. 

Would Xisuma be annoyed at him for poking around? Perhaps, but only if he noticed. Xelqua knew what he was doing; he had no plans to change anything, or snoop beyond the surface level. He just wanted to take a peek. 

Inevitably, he came across the player data. This was the code Xelqua risked a serious invasion of privacy if he wasn't careful. He avoided looking at Pearl's data altogether; there should be no way for a player to notice their data itself being looked at, but Pearl was tricky. Xelqua didn't want to cause more panic, even if it was incredibly unlikely.

There were few surprises in the data. Xelqua had already seen Xisuma in person, and noticed the code-deep alterations. Mumbo, despite his claims that he was just a human player, was a vampiric hybrid of some kind. But of course, Xelqua had already known that. 

The “code vision,” as his player self called it, made sure of that. 

The only true surprise was JoeHills, whose age data… did not have a beginning? Well. Xelqua had seen stranger. Considering Xelqua's own personal timeline meandered to various eras, including before Grian's birth, he really had no room to judge an impossible age. 

Overall, while most of it was knowledge he already possessed, the player data held Xelqua's attention for a time. He idly glanced through it until- 

<Player: Grian>

<Status: AL[TERED]IVE DOŖ̷̺̖͚͓͒̅̑́̂̾̔͊͐̑̍̈[̷̼̰͚͍͎̠̞̰̒͋͗̾̽̕͠È̴̘̭͍̮̲̌͒͗̏̌̽̍Ḑ̵̩͙͉͇͓̰̪͇͚͎̙̞͐̎͋̓͜A̵̟͙̞̣̓͂̆̚ͅC̸̭̞͙̤͚͚̏͌͝T̴̡͖̗͎̹͗̇͑̅́͠͠E̷̝̻͈͉̪̭͈̯͙̻̞͓͈̻͕͐̓̈̋̎̈͑̉̚̕̚̕͘͜͜D̷͚̩͇͓͚̹̱̫̥̹̣̺̟̰̍̃̀̋͗͐̉̊̐̉̏͘ͅ]MANT>

He was still connected to the server's database? Xelqua had assumed that the destruction of his player body would destroy the tie between code and server. Apparently not. 

It was strangely refreshing to be incorrect as a Watcher. A rare thing indeed for Beings like Them to be wrong. 

Xelqua wondered how strong the data link was. The server hadn't been able to fully connect with him, or the name would have changed to Xelqua. That it could tell that ‘Grian’ was in a limbo of sorts meant there was still a link. 

Hesitantly, and ready to abort if there was even the slightest chance of corruption to the rest of the data, Xelqua reached out to his own dormant player code. He changed a single character in a single line of code. 

One of Xelqua's feathers changed colors. Instinctively, several pairs of his Eyes opened to examine the change. 

Xelqua felt true surprise, the feeling beyond rare in this form. If he could change his code from the player data, then perhaps… 

All thoughts of experimentation screeched to a halt as a player, one he hadn't noticed approaching in his distraction - re-learning omnipercipience was a work in progress, far harder than he expected - got close enough to see him. 

Close enough to be in danger. 

Xelqua refocused, most of his Eyes shifting to observe the hermit. 

Tango swallowed nervously as he looked up at The Watcher. The one Zedaph had been nearly driven insane just by seeing. 

There stood TangoTek, the blaze hybrid looking back at him in shock. Xelqua immediately shut all but a handful of his Eyes, knowing by experience how uncomfortable so many of them Watching could be. 

The vast majority of these Eyes had closed as soon as Tango approached; a fact Tango was incredibly relieved by. Their Gaze fell heavy on him, like the pressure before a storm, the scent of ozone in the air.

Tango, said Xelqua, exasperated and worried in equal measures. Had Xisuma's plans to warn the hermits away from him been forgotten or had they just not worked? What are you doing here? It's dangerous. 

Luckily for Tango, he was not as susceptible to Watcher Presence as Zedaph. He was clear-eyed and stable, at least for now. He would need to leave soon, but as long as he didn't linger, he could leave without any side-effects. 

His voice was inside Tango's brain, more powerful than his own thoughts.

Unfortunately, based on the way Xelqua could feel him psyching himself up for a conversation, Tango didn't seem to have plans on leaving right away. 

The blaze hybrid swallowed, looking up at him with nervous determination. Worryingly, guilt was radiating off the man in palpable waves. 

“Xelqua,” Tango began, only the barest quiver in his voice. So Xisuma had shared his Name with the hermits. 

He waited as Tango gathered his thoughts and gathered his courage. The player knew what he was doing was reckless. So what was important enough to risk his sanity?

A tiny spark of hope bloomed in Tango's chest.

“You… Watchers see… everything, right?” 

If We are Watching, yes, We can, confirmed Xelqua. 

“I need to know what happened to Grian.” 

***

Chapter Text

The Entity known as JoeHills (from Nashville, Tennessee!) had been walking in the general direction of its base when it felt a tug on its arm that caused it to veer off course. Joe's Good Friend Cleo had grabbed its wrist and was tugging it off to the side. 

Once they were in a more private area, not so private as to give the title Hermit too much accuracy, but far enough that any uninvited listeners would have to eavesdrop, Cleo tugged it down to sit on the grass with her. 

At first, Joe was distracted by watching the other Hermits stream out of the meeting room, some in groups and some alone. Doc had grabbed the collars of Zedaph and Tango’s shirts, and was pulling them along, which Joe-Hills-From-Nashville-Tennessee was fascinated by. It wondered if this counted as traveling as a group, or if Doc was kidnapping the other two. 

It focused back on the present reality and away from such hypotheticals when Cleo waved at it to regain its attention. 

“Alright, Joe, spill,” its Good Friend Cleo said. 

Joe Hills perked up. Rarely was it given such a vague opening into a conversation. It opened its mouth, ready to talk about how all poetry could be traced back to stars, or how to dismantle a dictatorship, or how building things at impossibly large scales may allow one to experience a similar magnitude of awe that interacting with the Divine did. 

Unfortunately for the Entity-known-as-JoeHills, Cleo was well-versed in its ways, and gave an addendum to their statement before it could speak. 

“About the Watchers, Joe, not whatever else is going on in your head.” 

Joe Hills deflated slightly, but did not remain disappointed for too long. While free rein discussion was much more fun, Watchers were still one of its Interests, and it loved to talk about the things that caught its attention. 

“Well, Cleo, it all starts when I became tired of attempting to read every book on the Library of Alexandria server in reverse alphabetical order- The ‘T’ section was far larger than anticipated- and decided instead to pursue a higher education,” it started. “...Again.” 

As a functionally immortal being who had been around a good long while, Joe Hills had done quite a number of things in the name of sating its boredom. All immortals eventually succumbed to the inevitable feeling of “I should go back to college” no matter how miserable the first or second or third time was. 

Good Friend Cleo nodded along. “Yeah, your university days. Was this boredom-degree four?” 

“Yes, number four. The degree after Law but before Psychology. In this particular instance, I decided to learn outside the box. I enrolled in the Esoterics branch of study, and double-majored in Entities and Prophetic Mutterings.”

“That sounds incredibly fake, but it's exactly the sort of thing you’d do,” said Cleo. Joe beamed at her. Ah, Cleo understood it so well. 

“As every good doctorate requires, there were many papers and many topics of research. The area of interest I focused on in my studies were Watchers and Watcher interactions. During my research, I stayed a year with one of the sects that worshipped the Watchers, learning as much from them as they would allow. 

“As Xisuma said, the religion is closed, so it was only through respectful persistence and a great many trials to earn the trust of the people that I learned as much as I did. During this sabbatical, I also believe I encountered the sect that Xisuma belonged to, one that holds a special reverence for the Player-Born Watcher; the Watcher we now know to be Named Xelqua.” 

“So…” Cleo steepled their fingers together, “you needed Watcher research for your thesis paper and decided the best way to get it was to live in a Watcher cult for a year?” 

“That I did!” it cheered. “In all honesty, had I known about his particular experiences, I would have loved to interview Xisuma. Though whether he was there during my research opportunity is hard to say. Perhaps he had already left, or perhaps he had yet to exist. The years blur a bit at that point…” 

“Yeah, I’d bet being immortal does that,” Cleo sympathized.

“Oh, no, I was referring to college.” 

“Of course you were.” She shook her head. 

As the conversation lulled, Joe’s attention was pulled away by a passing Hermit. Such a thing was not irregular, but it had seen Tango be led away from the meeting under Doc’s dubious custody. Now, the blaze hybrid was on his own, and with the energy of someone lost within his own thoughts and emotions. Joe Hills watched him wander for a moment, curious. What could be the cause of such wandering? 

“Where is he going?” Cleo muttered, having noticed what caught its attention. 

Aha! Now, Cleo was asking all the right questions. Where instead of why, specifics instead of the abstract. How fortunate it was to have a Good Friend who could see the details while it was stuck within the big picture.

“Thanks Joe,” said Cleo absently, confirming that it had spoken its thought process aloud. 

Cleo leaped to their feet, and gestured for it to follow, which it did amiably. They began to follow TangoTek to wherever he might be heading. Cleo was one for action, while Joe Hills enjoyed simply sitting back and thinking of all the possibilities. 

“Is that you saying I should think my actions through more, Joe?” 

“Not at all, Cleo,” it replied. “Simply thinking about your active nature versus my passive one.” 

“I wouldn’t exactly call you passive, Joe. You know when it comes to bigots you don’t take any bull-”

“Oh, Tango’s on the move again,” it said, gesturing to where Tango had picked up speed. 

“He is heading towards the implosion site,” Cleo hissed out through gritted teeth. “And the Watcher!”

“...That’s not good,” Joe Hills said with a faint sense of alarm. It couldn’t imagine what possessed Tango to put himself in danger like that. Luckily Cleo and Joe were on the case. This had gone from simple espionage to a potential rescue mission quite swiftly. 

“I think ‘not good’ might be kind of an understatement,” Cleo said as they walked after Tango, JoeHills trailing behind. “Weren’t we explicitly warned away from the Watchers? Because of how dangerous They are?” 

“Firmly, and with many unpleasant details,” agreed Joe. 

“After a warning like that, why would anyone go towards the terrifying Eldritch Being?” She lamented. 

“Well, we are also currently going towards the terrifying Eldritch Being,” said Joe Hills. 

“Joe…”

“So I suppose a rescue mission is a perfectly valid reason. Perhaps Tango is in a similar situation? He saw someone go towards the danger, and headed that way for a rescue mission of his own.”

“Joe.” 

“Thereby making this not just a rescue mission, but a rescue mission-rescue mission.”

“Joe, it was a rhetorical question, love.” 

“If we need a rescue, it will become a rescue mission-rescue mission-rescue mission,” it theorized. 

Joe could tell Cleo was side-eyeing it, though it couldn’t possibly imagine why. 

“And if that rescue mission needs a rescue mission, it would be a-” 

“Nope, no, that’s enough,” she cut it off. It tilted its head, then acquiesced. 

“Probably for the best. Much more, and we might get into Matryoshka territory.” 

***

Chapter Text

The sound of armored boots against the floor echoed. The sound only drove the admin’s anxiety higher, but he couldn't stop moving. 

Xisuma had tried not to pace while waiting for Zedaph… for about two minutes. He was far too restless right now to hold still. 

What Pearl had told him was circling in his head like a vulture. The lingering belief that Xelqua of all Watchers understood the plight of the player too much to do something like that to Grian warred with the sinking feeling of dread. 

Xisuma had already been dissatisfied with Xelqua's explanation for where Grian was. Now, the need to know for sure his player was alright was itching at him; it was only his concern for another of his players that kept from immediately storming over and demanding an explanation. 

Eternity was an awful long time, and Watchers weren't linear. The legends of Xelqua were older than Xisuma by a century or two, but He might have existed for far longer. Immortality could make people strange in many ways. And Xelqua would have had nobody but other Watchers for company. 

How sure was Xisuma that Xelqua still understood players just as well? Was he sure enough to risk the Hermits? The players he had sworn to protect? 

Xisuma took a deep breath before his anxiety caused him to do something rash. Xelqua had saved his players from a code implosion. He had recognized when He was hurting players, and He was willingly remaining trapped on the server to avoid hurting any of them. 

Xelqua's actions seemed genuine. Xisuma wanted to trust Him. 

But he wouldn't trust blindly. If it was all some sort of… convoluted trap to gain access to Grian, Xisuma would find out. 

The admin took another deep breath, his pacing slowing to a less frantic speed. 

Now that his heart wasn't beating out of his chest, it seemed much more likely that if Xelqua had stolen Grian away, that it wasn't out of maliciousness. 

Xelqua wasn't like the other Watchers. He could be reasoned with, He could understand. Xisuma would talk to Him. 

And if, for whatever reason, he couldn't convince Him? Xisuma would do whatever it took to get Grian back, even if he had to take his player's place. 

The door slammed open, and Xisuma almost jumped out of his armor. 

Standing in the doorway, foot still outstretched from where he'd kicked the door open, was Doc. Xisuma wasn't sure why he'd kicked the door when he had perfectly functional arms - now - until he noticed Zedaph being held in the air like Doc was about to throw him. 

Xisuma braced himself, just in case, but the creeper hybrid simply carried Zedaph inside and plopped him down on the nearest chair. Zed was pouting, but didn't try running off. Maybe he'd gotten all of his energy out trying to escape Doc? 

X hoped so. Zedaph had a hard time getting a code check-up on a good day, let alone the more in-depth one Xisuma would need to do today. He just wasn’t built to sit and do nothing for long stretches of time; his brain leaped from place to place too quickly for that. 

Regardless, Xisuma was glad Doc had brought him straight away. No matter how quickly he’d left Xelqua’s presence, there was still the chance that the experience had hurt Zedaph in ways that needed immediate intervention. And the quicker that Xisuma made sure Zedaph was safe, the quicker he could confront Xelqua to make sure Grian was safe. 

Xisuma suppressed a sigh, not wanting Doc or Zedaph to think he was annoyed with them. Being an admin was just… so exhausting. No, scratch that. Being a good admin was exhausting. Even on a relatively small server like Hermitcraft, it was a full time job making sure everything ran smoothly and everyone was safe. And then, if something went wrong, Xisuma had to start working overtime to take care of his players properly. 

In the case of a catastrophic event? Like… oh, X didn’t know… a simultaneous code implosion and Watcher appearance? Well. It wouldn’t be the first time Xisuma had to forgo sleep for a while. 

Xisuma shook off the self-pity. He had a player he needed to check over. 

***

While Doc was worried about Zedaph - and a bit about Xisuma, considering the stress radiating off the admin - he didn't stay very long after bringing Zedaph to his check-up. The only thing more boring than getting your code analyzed was watching someone get their code analyzed. 

Once Xisuma started, Doc ducked out of the door. He wondered where Tango had gone. He hadn’t noticed that the blaze hybrid hadn’t followed along until he was already halfway to Xisuma's. 

Doc debated whether he should track Tango down or not. 

On the one hand, Tango was an adult, and his own player. He didn't need a babysitter. On the other hand, he'd recently been through a traumatic event, which could lead to players acting in strange ways. And Doc was worried, alright? 

He'd resolved to at least check and see if Tango was still back at Zedaph's when something distracted him. 

At first, he wasn't sure why it caught his attention at all. It was just Joe and Cleo walking- speed-walking, really. Then it hit him. They were speed-walking in the direction of the void-damned Watcher. 

Doc blinked for a moment before hurrying after them. Did his friends have no sense of self preservation? Had they heard about Zedaph’s code check-up and just had to have one of their own? There was absolutely no valid reason to be going towards a Watcher! 

Well, technically, Doc was going towards one right now, but that was different! It was a rescue mission! Unless Cleo and Joe were up to something similar, they had no excuse. 

If that were the case, Doc supposed this would be a rescue mission within another. Then if someone came after him, it would be a- no. 

Doc shook his head. That way lies madness. And matryoshka. 

Before he could catch up further with Joe and Cleo, he felt a tug on his arm. He glanced over and was surprised to find Pearl there, disbelief on her face. 

“Tell me you're not going towards the Watcher,” she said flatly. He winced. 

“I have a good reason, I swear,” he said. She raised an eyebrow.

“Joe and Cleo are also going in that direction.” 

“...If your friends jumped off a-” 

“The plan is to stop them before they reach the Watcher,” Doc interrupted. 

Pearl sighed. Doc could see indecision warring on her face. The scent of fear that had been present since before the meeting begun still lingered. He wondered what she and Xisuma had discussed for her anxiety to spread to X as well. 

“Fine,” she said eventually, dropping her hold on his arm and turning towards the distant implosion site. She muttered under her breath, probably not meaning for Doc to hear, “this is such a bad idea.” 

“You're coming with me?” He checked. He continued walking, and she fell into step beside him. “I can't just let you, Cleo and Joe all walk towards a Watcher and not do anything. I'm not getting close enough to see it though.” 

Doc had the feeling that what Pearl wanted was to be far enough away that the Watcher couldn't See her. …That, however, was an exercise in futility. 

“I talked to Him briefly, and had no signs of psychic damage,” Doc said. “I'm not going to push it, but it should give me enough time to run in and grab them if they're already at the Watcher.” 

Pearl looked very uncomfortable at the idea, but didn't protest. There was no point in a rescue mission if they couldn't rescue, after all. 

As they crested a hill, Doc realized Joe and Cleo had been traveling much more quickly than he'd expected. They were already over the next hill, quickly dropping out of sight, and ever closer to danger. 

He and Pearl exchanged a worried glance and then picked up speed. 

“Can't believe I'm running towards a Watcher,” grumbled Pearl. 

Doc had to agree. 

***

Chapter Text

Stupid, stupid. Ohhh this might be the stupidest thing Tango had ever done. Second stupidest if he was still counting the code implosion. 

It didn't stop Tango from wishing to go back in time and slap himself silly, but maybe, just maybe there was a slim chance Doc was right. From a purely logical standpoint, there was no way of knowing what specifically caused the code implosion. The machine had been a chimera of his and Zedaph's crazy ideas, so to blame himself was to blame Zedaph. And Tango didn't blame Zedaph, not at all. 

So, hypothetically… he shouldn't be blaming himself. 

At least, not for the code implosion. 

“I'm just glad you're both ok,” Doc had said. The words echoed endlessly in Tango's brain. Yeah, he and Zedaph were both fine. 

Grian wasn't. 

Sure he hadn't been wiped from existence in the implosion. But there was quite a gap between “still existing” and “ok.” Void, there was a pretty big gap between even being alive and ok. 

Tango had no idea where his friend currently fell on that scale. 

All he did know is that Grian wouldn't have been put in that situation in the first place had he not been invited. And whose idea was it to bring Grian in? Tango’s. His shady code-work. His suggestion that they needed another set of eyes. His idea that Grian could help since Doc was busy. 

Sure, Zedaph sent the actual invitation. But Tango was the one at fault. 

How that had led him here… 

Tango swallowed nervously as he looked up at The Watcher. The one Zedaph had been nearly driven insane just by seeing. 

A migraine had already started to form, and he studiously ignored the pounding of his head. Trying to make sense of the Watcher’s appearance made him feel sick; Xelqua broke the known laws of physics simply by existing. 

His body was almost player-adjacent… if you discounted His immense size and the way He stretched through far too many planes and dimensions to ever pass as Player. 

To Tango's eyes, it was as if His form was ever-shifting. Like every possible motion He could make was happening all at once, superimposed onto themselves. How Xelqua was actually moving was difficult to see, too covered by the flickering of the possibilities. Xelqua's body and arms were disorienting enough, but His Wings… Tango could feel his migraine spiking to unbearable levels, so he changed his focus. 

Uncountable eyes- Eyes- floated in the space that Was Xelqua. A tight ring surrounded the Watcher like a halo, spinning at dizzying speeds. 

The vast majority of these Eyes had closed as soon as Tango approached; a fact Tango was incredibly relieved by. Their Gaze fell heavy on him, like the pressure before a storm, the scent of ozone in the air. The fewer Eyes on him, the less pressure he felt. 

Barely seconds after laying eyes on Xelqua, Tango had understood. He knew immediately how exposure to such a sight had affected Zedaph so badly, he understood why Pearl was so clearly terrified by the very concept of Watchers. 

Tango, Xelqua said. His voice was inside Tango's brain, more powerful than his own thoughts. Tango could feel the backlash of the Watcher's gentle exasperation and concern - recognizable as such, yet somehow completely alien from the emotions of a player. 

Tango had no questions about how the Being knew his name. His Gaze pierced, right to the heart of Tango. He knew instinctively that every part of his code was as easy to see as the ground beneath his feet. Of course Xelqua knew his name; He probably knew what Tango had for breakfast. 

What are you doing here? It's dangerous, scolded the Watcher. 

Tango took a deep breath. 

“Xelqua,” he said shakily. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Another deep breath. “You… Watchers see… everything, right?” 

If We are Watching, yes, We can. Tango fought back a shudder at the way he could hear the capital letters in that sentence. 

One of the Eyes winked into existence for a moment before vanishing again. A tiny spark of hope bloomed in Tango's chest. 

“I need to know what happened to Grian,” he pleaded, the words falling from his lips in a rush. 

A short silence in which Tango's anxiety spiked. Then, a small sigh. 

I thought your admin had plans to tell you this? He said, almost absently. I didn't actually Watch the meeting.

Tango wondered why. Maybe since it was a private Hermit meeting? That was polite of Him. Dread was starting to pool in Tango's stomach from the lack of answers about Grian, though. 

Grian is safe, Xelqua said, cutting off Tango's internal panic spiral. What happened to him is complicated, and it will be a little while before he can return, but he is safe.

“Thank you,” Tango breathed. Relief crashed into him like a wave, and just a little of the guilt was washed away with it. Safe was a good start. He continued to press, needing to know as much as he could before his fears could truly settle. 

“What did happen? Where did he go?” 

It's not so much a location as a state of being, said the Watcher. He is dormant, for lack of a better term. I can bring him back once I'm not trapped on this server.

Dormant? That… was a strange term to use for a player. One that had new anxieties twisting his insides into knots. Tango had a hard time picturing what that actually meant for Grian. He knew what the word itself meant, of course, but…

“How does a player go dormant?” he wondered aloud. 

Through a very complicated process I like to call Watcher Shenanigans. 

Tango almost couldn’t believe Xelqua had been the one to say that. Yet the Voice had been within his mind, unmistakably of Watcher origin. 

The cognitive dissonance of such a silly word said by such an overwhelming Being plucked at something in his brain. The strangeness resonated, until a smile cracked Tango's face. 

“Shenanigans?” He echoed, his voice squeaking a little from the sheer delight the word was bringing him. He started giggling, then realized he couldn’t stop. The hilarity quickly turned to blinding terror, then just as quickly, a confusion so thick he wasn’t sure for a moment where he was. 

You've been here too long. It's time to leave before you get hurt, said Xelqua. A foreign concern traveled with the words, and Tango felt his mind latch onto the emotion, pulling it to himself until it felt like his own. 

Tango was so very concerned. What… what exactly was he concerned about? Was he concerned about Xelqua? That… that must be it. Something must be wrong… right? 

Tango. You need to leave.

The part of Tango that was still capable of rational thought and not wildly swinging between emotions agreed. Except his legs kind of felt like jelly. Electrified jelly, to be specific. Buzzing with a foreign energy, yet with the stability of a slime. 

And then there was a warm hand on his shoulder, tugging him backwards. He stumbled a little, trying to remember how to use his legs, but the other player slipped under his arm to support him. Another pair of hands steadied him from the other side, and he managed to start walking away. Almost instinctually, he tried to look back towards Xelqua, but a firm hand turned his face the other way. 

It wasn’t until they were far enough away that the storm-like pressure of the Watcher’s presence began to fade that Tango realized just who had come to his rescue. Joe Hills and Cleo stood on either side of him, watchi- looking at him like he might bolt or pass out and they weren’t sure which was better. 

“Tango?” Cleo said, her voice wavering a little. 

“I’m- I’m ok,” he managed. He forced his voice to remain steady, his hands not to shake. 

A beat as the other two Hermits took that in. Joe said simply, “No, you’re not. But you will be.” 

Tango’s composure broke, and he sagged against Cleo, who easily kept him upright. 

“That was so, so stupid,” Cleo told him. They sounded angry, but also like they might cry. “I can’t decide whether to hug you or strangle you. Never do that again.” 

“Yeah, not planning on it,” he replied weakly.

“You don’t have any blood leaks, but that was still an extremely concerning reaction,” Joe said. His voice was so matter-of-fact, Tango didn’t even register he was being inspected for damage until Joe started checking his eye dilation. 

“What were you even doing out here?” Cleo asked. 

“Grian is… still missing, and I thought He might know something.” 

Inexplicably, Joe perked up. He turned to Cleo with a strange light in his eyes, and received a long sigh in return. 

“It was a rescue mission-rescue mission after all!”

***

Chapter Text

With every step she took, Pearl cursed herself more and more. Why was she like this?

Pearl would do just about anything for her friends. However, she hadn't realized “anything” included running headlong towards a Watcher for void's sake! Had you asked her even a day ago whether she would brave one of Them again, even for friends, she would have said no. 

And yet. Here she was, practically sprinting directly towards one for the sake of her fellow Hermits. The Hermits were the closest thing she had to family, and she would not lose even a single one. (She carefully avoided thoughts of Grian.) 

When they neared the Watcher, Pearl knew immediately, because she felt the air pressure drop and her hair stand on its end. Her steps stuttered for a moment, but she ignored the squirming discomfort in her gut and pressed on. It was only once she felt the itching of Eyes on her that her courage started to falter. 

“We’re close,” she said, her pace automatically slowing. Doc turned to her, his brow furrowed a little. 

“I was about to say that,” he said. “Can you sense Them? Watchers?” 

Pearl was silent for a moment. She wasn’t exactly being subtle; it wasn’t that big a shock that Doc had figured something out. She nodded, and he seemed unsurprised by her confirmation. 

“I’ve suspected since the meeting,” he told her. “For someone with such strong feelings towards Them, you didn’t seem too surprised. And with what you said about ‘gaining things…’”

“I just had a heart to heart with X,” she said, half complaint, half explanation. “But… yeah. I can sense them. Mostly the Watching itself, but them too when I’m close enough.” 

Doc nodded, and didn’t press further. Pearl appreciated it. She wasn’t quite ready to spill her guts again so soon after baring her soul to Xisuma. Especially not with one of them Watching. 

They continued on in silence, the weight of this mysterious Xelqua’s gaze growing ever heavier. Just when Pearl was about to call it, saying she couldn’t go much closer, she spotted three figures coming the other way. She squinted a little to make them out; it was Tango, supported on either side by Cleo and Joe. 

“Damn, so it was a matryoshka rescue mission,” Doc muttered, to Pearl’s confusion. 

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” 

Pearl was wondering how nesting dolls could possibly factor into their current situation, but there were more pressing things. The other three Hermits had noticed them. 

She was a little reluctant to get closer, as they were still far too near to the Watcher for her to feel comfortable. However, considering Tango was having trouble standing, let alone walking, she was willing to compromise. 

She and Doc met the three halfway, and Pearl’s eyes immediately darted through the familiar eyes-nose-mouth-ears check for blood leaking on pure muscle memory. It made her a little sick how quickly it came back to her. 

“No blood leaks, but he was having some very intense emotional swings before we extracted him.” Joe had clearly noticed her examination and listed out Tango’s symptoms. Pearl wasn’t quite sure about being deferred to, but really, she had the most experience when it came to Watcher damage. 

“Extracted me,” Tango grumbled. “Makes me sound like a bad tooth.” 

He was still a little pale, but him making snarky comments was a good sign. 

“Congrats, Tango, you’re one of the rare players whose emotions start going first,” she told him dryly. BigB had been the same way. His first symptom had never been bloody tears. Instead, he was struck by intense and disorienting mood swings that could take hours to wear off at their worst. 

“That sounds… unpleasant,” he hedged. 

“Too much exposure, and the emotional instability can become permanent,” she said, a false cheer in her voice. BigB hadn’t been paranoid at the start of Evo. A bit mischievous, sure, but the paranoia had crept in over time. Now, it was a part of him. 

Pearl sometimes wondered just how much she had changed. 

“Well, that’s terrifying,” said Tango, even paler. Pearl didn’t apologize; she’d rather he be scared than hurt. 

“Did you want a code-check of your own that badly?” Doc asked him. 

For several seconds, Tango was silent. Then: “I wanted- needed to know what happened to Grian.”

“And throwing yourself at the Watcher was the best way to accomplish that? You saw what happened to Zed!” 

“Hold on, what the hell happened to Zedaph?” Cleo interjected.

Pearl wasn't really listening. She felt the blood draining out of her face. She'd thought about it; confronting the Watcher about Grian herself. She'd thought about demanding his return; pleading, bargaining. But tactics like that didn't work on Watchers. If Xisuma were wrong, if Xelqua was just like the others, all she would accomplish was making herself a target. An annoyance. 

But void did it burn at her to do nothing. And by the gods, she had never felt more like a coward than when it came to the Watchers. How could she entertain the thought of bargaining for Grian's safety when she couldn't even approach a Watcher? When she couldn't even feel one’s presence without nearing a breakdown? 

Doc darted his eyes towards her. She tried to rein in her self-loathing a bit; Doc was a little too good at sniffing out emotions sometimes, pun intended. And blunt enough that he’d bring them up, regardless of his claims of being bad at feelings. She didn't need an intervention right on the doorstep of a void-damned Watcher. 

“Pearl-”

“Can we get away from here first? Please?” Her voice came out sharper than she meant it to. 

Tango glanced between her and Doc, brows furrowed. “Am I missing something here?” 

“Nothing,” Doc shook his head. Pearl relaxed the tiniest bit. “Pearl is right, we should go somewhere more secure.” 

And private, she added silently. Not that keeping her thoughts to herself would actually keep them private when a Watcher was around… but if she thought about that particular fact too much, she'd start spiraling again. 

Cleo and Joe exchanged a look, reading each other as easily as a book.  

“We can head to my base,” Cleo offered. The silent communication had apparently been them agreeing on a location. Pearl shook her head. 

“Mine is closer,” she said, a humorless smile on her face. How ironic that her base was the closest to the Watcher. Or perhaps it was fitting. The universe had a sense of humor. 

“Am I seriously going to be put through two interventions in one day?” Tango asked as the group started to make their way to Pearl's base. The farther away they got, the more the prickling along her spine started to fade. 

“Think of it as an interrogation,” said Doc, patting his shoulder. A flurry of sparks danced in the air as Tango spluttered. 

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?!” 

***

Chapter Text

Xelqua very valiantly held back the groan of exasperation until Tango, Cleo and Joe were out of earshot. Their little group was on a collision course with Doc and Pearl, who Xelqua had been shocked to sense approaching. 

Five players running headlong towards a Watcher was a little ridiculous; the only reason he hadn't given up completely on the Hermits' self-preservation was that only Tango had come to talk to Xelqua. The rest were on a strange chain of rescue missions, and not eager to actually interact with a Watcher. 

Tango on the other hand… Xelqua regretted letting him stay as long as he had. 

The danger had come far more quickly than he’d expected. Tango had been completely fine… until he wasn't. It was like something had switched a flip and he’d started to deteriorate even more quickly than Zedaph had. Xelqua had been worried enough that, even without any of the usual signs, he would have forcibly respawned Tango had he not noticed Cleo and Joe running in to help. 

Really, he shouldn’t have engaged with Tango at all. He’d been lulled into a false sense of security with the player’s lack of an initial reaction. Xelqua knew the Rules of the Universe well enough that he should have known better; it was never that easy. Of course the eventual backlash had been severe. 

Still, even if he had stayed completely silent, he doubted Tango would’ve left without answers about Grian. Hermits were just far too stubborn a bunch. 

The next one of his friends to approach him and risk their sanity was getting immediately tossed to respawn, for their own safety. 

Xelqua slowly let his area of awareness expand so he didn't have another player sneak up on him. It was all too easy to become Aware of his surroundings, knowing every block, pixel, line of code intimately and instinctively. The amount of information that coursed through his mind would instantly kill a player, no matter how protected their mind. 

To Xelqua, it was easier than breathing. 

Every block, from build height to bedrock, and even the space beyond, he Knew. This was something he could not hold onto as Grian; only the vague knowledge that he could do it remained. 

If he tried, Xelqua could Watch this space, not only in the present, but its past, future, and even adjacent timelines. It was the closest thing any being or Being could get to true omniscience. It was relative to the space he was in, and still filtered through his own perspective, but omniscience of a kind nonetheless. 

Xelqua… did not do that. He could do it, the skilp came easily enough that it barely had to be taught when he first Became. But he disliked how Other it made him feel. It was so starkly beyond a player's ability to even comprehend, and Xelqua had always hated reminders of his new species. It stung, especially while he was on Hermitcraft, and so close to the reminders of the player life he'd lived. 

No, for now, he would stay in the present. He didn't need to know the past-present-future of every block and its code. What he needed to know was if any other Hermits approached. 

It was all too easy to let his sense of time slip like this. Hours, seconds, minutes, they all felt tiny to a Watcher. But as long as Xelqua kept himself carefully locked into linear time, he would not falter. 

Xelqua would protect his friends. And if he needed to let himself act more like the Watcher he was to do so, then so be it. 

***

Xelqua had not spoken to many people since becoming a Watcher. He hadn't spoken to any players at all, knowing all too well how much that would hurt them. Instead, He had only the company of One and Two - who had not given their Names, and thus were stuck with the nicknames He gave Them. 

Time did not work the same, now, and Xelqua had not figured out how to turn it off. He existed at all points at once, and things did not always happen in set orders. But He had existed like this, speaking to nobody but Them, for what felt like a long time. And despite His anger at One and Two, Xelqua was not confident enough in His control to go off on His own. 

Occasionally, under the guidance of Them, He would Watch. When He Watched, He kept His Gaze far from anywhere - no, anywhen - He'd ever known. Evo especially. It hurt too much to see players He'd once been friends with. It hurt too much to be reminded of what He lost. 

So He ignored the future, and kept His Eyes on the past. Not that ‘future’ or ‘past’ were anything more than descriptive terms for a Watcher. Despite being outside of time, He still kept track of what His present would have been were He still Grian. 

The first time he met another Watcher outside of the Two-That-Changed-Him had been… interesting. They had heard of Him, been curious about the first Watcher that could be described as new. 

Hello, Player-Born, They greeted. Xelqua had become familiar with the way Watcher minds brushed together to communicate. 

Hello, He returned, hesitating a bit on how to address Them. A title stood out in Their mind, and after a moment He used it. …Star-Seeker.

Why You do not call Us by title, said One, yet call Them, who is unfamiliar to You, is beyond My Understanding. 

Xelqua did the Watcher equivalent of an eye-roll, something He had had to invent Himself. His mentors-slash-kidnappers had yet to earn the titles of One-With-Wisdom and Voidless in His Eyes. Voidless made no sense, and One most certainly was not With Wisdom. 

Besides, They both knew His Name, He didn't see why He shouldn't learn Theirs. 

I am Called Xelqua. Blatantly ignoring Watcher customs, He introduced Himself, much to the exasperation of One, and the amusement of Two and Star-Seeker. 

Xelqua the Player-Born, said Star-Seeker. Watchers didn't laugh, but They were pressing echoes of Their humor into Xelqua's mind. You are quite strange. 

Xelqua didn't take offense. In fact, it was actually a relief, in a way, to not fit in with the Watchers. A reminder that, despite His identity having shifted and changed along with His Being, He was still Himself. 

Star-Seeker is here for a reason, Two said. 

Yes, They agreed. Xelqua, You wish to learn - or perhaps to relearn - how to experience time in a linear way, like the players. 

Xelqua snapped to attention, every Eye locking onto Star-Seeker. While One and Two were good teachers, not that He wished to admit it, They had trouble explaining a few concepts, and this was one. It was not often that Watchers chose to be time-locked, so They did not know how to teach Xelqua what He wished to know. 

Yes, that is My wish, He said, knowing that Star-Seeker was picking up the threads of excitement that ran through His mind. 

Then I shall teach You, said They. Let Us begin. 

***