fall

How joyous and hideously sad it was to recognize himself. To recognize sentience, thought disguised in apathetic lethargy. Had he known he was alive in the months-years earlier? Had he recognized life itself?

'I'm waiting,' he settled upon. He closed his eyes, shielding himself and waiting for the drift of the sun and the rise of darkness. It soothed him, a balm to a burnt sour patch somewhere in his heart. The moon was small, a fraction of it's true capacity. It would cycle, although Grian could not name how he knew that. It would wax and wane, would shine its beauty upon his hideous body in false mockery of a friend. 

It was nighttime, at its darkest, and Grian knew he had to move. He had to crawl, to drag himself further and tumble across ravines where he would flutter and break upon the stone. He had to move forward, to endure and continue. 

'I know how to fall,' Grian thought to himself in human's stolen words. 'I know how to get up again.'

Something had been bothering Ren. 

Ren wasn't the smartest dog around, but his momma-dog had raised him well and he knew better than to trust a gift bone when given to him. Too many things weren't lining up, it was making him nervous.

He had seen Scout in person a scant number of times, each memory left him nervous and twitchy. It made him a little too anxious, chewing on his claws until Doc had gotten him the remnants of a skeleton to play with. 

Ren wasn't an admin, he wasn't a big scary monster like a void walker or whatever Etho was. Ren was just a hound-dog, but he had a good nose on him and he could sniff out problems. 

Scout never once made him feel that warm friendly thing that others talked about. Scout was a stinky thing full of fleas, and Ren hated fleas.

Sometimes Doc was too curious about major aspects of a project, he was blind to the smaller details. 

The most recent event with Scout didn't do much to make him feel better. When he heard about it, he just about snarled at Etho's bland expression. They had the audacity to sedate Scout? Shooting him with poisoned arrows? They were lucky the insane thing hadn't attacked them all outright!

Rendog wasn't scared of some weird big bird, but he had some doubts. He knew he wasn't the only one. Joehills had been quieter, careful with where he traveled. Joe was a good hermit, a dang helpful one too. Joe was a rather timid Admin in Rendog's eyes, but that didn't mean the man didn't know anything.

Tracking down Joe was easier than most would expect. Ren had a nose made for sniffing out suspicious things, and a keener sense than any tamed wolf. He could spot a creeper a mile away, and had gotten used to Doc's shenanigans at the Octogon to ever let his senses dull.

"Joe!" Ren shouted, crowing delightedly in something near a howl. "My old friend! How's it shaking, my dude?"

Joe startled leaping a little as he dropped the shulker he had been pawing through- spilling bee hives across the ground. Thankfully, they were empty, but the delicious smell of honey made Ren's tail wave a little quicker.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I hadn't seen you there," Joe apologized, nervously wringing his sticky hands together. Honey spilled onto the grass, slow golden molasses filling ant hills with the most glorious death. Ren almost wanted to watch.

"Man," Ren said wistfully. "What a sweet way to die."

"I mean, I guess?" Joe said, voice squeaking into high pitch territory. The two men stood there, watching the gentle ooze for a concerning length of time.

"How can I help ya'?" Joe asked, wiping his hands clean on a rag in his right pocket. The man smiled softly, somehow a lump of honeycomb was trapped in his scruff.

Ren grinned, wide enough to show his admirable fangs. Joe's gentle warmth did not diminish, nor did it lessen in any way. 

"Joe, my dude," Ren said, puffing his chest as wide as he could. "I don't believe any of this Scout nonsense!"

"Uh," Joe said wisely.

"I mean, a weird feathery monstrosity arriving out of nowhere?" Ren barked, tossing his head backward with the ferocity of his words. "It's outrageous! Do they take us for fools? Because I'mma tell you this- this dog ain't gullible!" 

Joe very slowly looked at his honeycomb, wearing an expression similar to despair. The man sighed, recognizing the appearance of Rendog for what it was. Woefully, Joe asked: "I'm not going to be able to clean this up, am I?"

"It's organic, dude," Ren said, grabbing the man's upper arm with his clawed grip. "Nature is healing, or something. Come on, we got priorities!"

"I had priorities," Joe mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled along.

Ren did not halt his frantic speed. At one point, Ren was sprinting with Joe hastily enabling his elytra to soar over a ten foot gap like a large terrified kite. Ren had found this hilarious, unable to restrain his hideous cackling yips. It took some amount of time before Joe felt the prickling nervous energy begin to flutter in his chest, gathering in a tight anxious ball.

"Ren- Ren where are we going?" 

Ren grinned with a bright manic light. Through his sunglasses, Joe could spot telltale pinprick pupils of someone high on danger and adrenaline. He knew suddenly that they were undoubtedly up to no good.

"Oh don't worry, my dude!" Ren cackled, finally releasing Joe's abused arm from his tight grip. The man's tail wagged quickly, battering against Joe's flank with a heavy blow. " I've been thinkin', scheming if you prefer that terminology…and I thought, hmm, who else would be insane enough to go against Doc! And I mean, I live with that madman!"

Joe very worriedly thought: oh no.

Ren waved both arms about, claws dark and flashing as he gestured wildly. "And you know what I thought? I thought, man, Rendog, there's only one dude around that crazy!"

Rendog's ears perked, a twitch of his lip pulled him into a toothy grin. Joe felt panic once more at the sudden depth of what he had been literally dragged into. Not that he was going to walk away- Ren had presented some open problems that Joe also had been wondering.

With a small shudder of wind through the clearing, the leaves rustled and their expectant guest landed gracefully with elytra outstretched. In some ways, Cubfan was a natural at flying. Where Scar had never quite adjusted to using elytra for flying, Cubfan had embraced and practiced the art of the equipment to soar quite literally heads above Scar. 

"Well well," Cub said, voice level in the monotone inflection he always had although one eyebrow quirked upwards in open amusement. Joe knew how to read Cleo's face (who on occasion had some facial paralysis kick in from decay), he could adjust to reading Cub's expressions.

"Cub! The one and the only! The legend himself!" Ren shouted, throwing both arms into the air with a cut off howl. "How are you doin' my brother?"

"We're brother's now?" Cub asked, cocking one head with an intensity to his gaze. It felt almost alien, uncomfortable to look at.

"Well, we may be from a different litter, but you're family to me!" Ren defended with another toothy grin. "How is life treating ya'. Do anything wild recently?"

"Mm, nothing too crazy," Cub deflected. Joe noticed how the man hadn't actually answered the question. He had heard rumors that Cub couldn't actually lie, which felt ridiculous but maybe there was some merit to it.

"How would you feel if I offered you an opportunity then?"

Cub's piercing gaze shifted, fixating on Joe for a moment longer than necessary. There was something primal in his gaze, a predatory gleam that made Joe think of freezing potions and the acrid smell of dragon's breath. Cub's smile didn't seem so friendly, now it felt almost razor sharp and edging on the cusp of cruelty. 

"Oh?" Cub asked, casually glancing at Ren who didn't seem to care at the odd expressions. "What sort of opportunity?"

"How would you feel starting some chaos?"

"Mm, well. I do enjoy some chaos."

Joe shivered, trying to ignore the sharp gaze which flickered to him for a short period. They seemed to see through him, recognizing or assessing the situation quicker than he would have liked. Cub hummed flatly, his elytra ruffling with a small insectoid shift. He asked: "I take it the chaos aspect is why Joe is here, and not Xisuma?"

"Got it in one," Ren laughed. He reached out, smacking Cub affectionately on the shoulder of his lab coat, dangerously close to clawing the pristine material. "What do you know about this Scout hooligan?"

"Just what Xisuma has mentioned over the communicators," Cub said dismissively. Joe did not think Cub actually thought as little of the situation as he portrayed.

"Well, I don't like it one bit," Ren growled. "First X runs off, and now Doc too! That idiot won't even come home now, too busy thinking about theories and- and…and myths!"

"I heard Scout was a Watcher," Cub said with his apathetic tone, distant and curious all at once. "I wondered about that."

"Have you ever run across a Watcher?" Joe asked, hating how squeaky his voice was all the sudden.

Cub smiled. His smile, to Joe's eyes, reminded him of a mouth full of thin needle like teeth. Cub laughed a short genuine guttural chuckle, eyes bright with a brutal clarity. 

Cub said, "I don't think so. I'd love for a Watcher to meet me."

Ren barked a noise of amusement. "Hah! That's probably why X wanted you to stay away! You'd terrify the thing!"

"I can't help it, I'm just cool like that."

Yeah, or terrifying, Joe thought.

"So I was thinking, I ain't biting all that Watcher nonsense," Ren explained, waving his arms around as his tail continued its slow wagging. "I mean, I can believe maybe X stumbling over something in his server hopping, but why this one?"

Joe felt both men look at him, clearly waiting for his input. Finally, something he could comment on.

"Oh, well…uh," Joe stuttered, trying to recall what drew him and Xisuma to this precise server. "We normally check the origin spawn area, as well as the different biomes within a specific distance. We do it for every server, we had multiple options and this one was just…the best?"

"The best objectively?" Cub asked casually, "or the best in your personal opinion?"

"Well, best is pretty subjective," Joe said awkwardly. "I don't know, it's hard to explain. Xisuma and I just…have a certain taste when it comes to new servers. It was probably just chance."

Ren growled, his tail freezing in place. He asked very slowly, "what if it wasn't chance?"

"That's not possible," Joe argued. "There's millions of potential worlds out there. We had dozens in our selection pool, the likelihood of something being able to predict us is impossible."

Cub clearly thought otherwise. The man drew a stick from his inventory, the bark stripped away and end fashioned thin in preparation of being affixed to some sort of tool. He ignored his previous work, instead using the stick to sweep away the leaves and detritus on the floor. With intentional heavy strokes, the man carved lines into the forest floor and peeled back the moss.

"Alright, let's look at it then," Cub said with mock disinterest. "Way back, to when the community was founded. Who did that?"

"Biffa2001," Joe stated. Cub drew a mark in the ground, below it Biffa. 

Shifting to the right, Cub cleared a space and asked, "and when you left that server, who decided where to go?"

"Biffa decided where to go when he was our Admin," Joe explained hastily. "That was…oh man, since the very start, until Xisuma started taking over the duties and Biffa retired."

"You and I joined later on, Cub," Rendog said, contemplating the list of names and different worlds Cub scratched into the dirt. "How is any of this important?"

"Did you help at all with selecting new servers?" Cub asked Joe directly.

"Sure?" Joe squeaked, using his shoe to anxiously stamp at the ground at various worlds. "I uh, I helped these ones…"

"The third, fourth, fifth, sixth…" Cub muttered, trying to find any sort of similarities across each world. "Each server was pretty unique…beyond some standard things…"

"Yeah, like…we have parameters," Joe stated hastily. "Specific things Xisuma and Biffa looked for- resources within a certain distance, a variety of biomes. Plenty of ocean monuments and so on."

Rendog snuffled, ears twitching as he thought. He couldn't see any sort of familiarity across the maps, but there had to be something.

Cub tilted his head, unblinking as he stared at each world written in the dirt. Cub tapped his stick, trying to find anything. He asked, lost in thought: "This world…how perfect is it?"

Joe floundered, caught off guard. He stuttered, nearly choking on his spit before he registered and found his confidence once more. Cub watched him, not helping his stress levels.

"I mean, it's a good one? If we hadn't come to it, we probably would have eventually. Why?"

"Scout had been underground," Cub said softly to himself, staring at the various worlds below them. Slowly, with his stick, he scratched out each individual world, leaving only the names: Xisuma, Biffa, Joe below each. "How long had it been waiting?"

"Eh? You think it was waiting for something?" Ren asked, hackles bristling.

Cub tapped his stick, deep in thought. His smile was not friendly, merely contemplative. He asked: "how long do you think Watcher's can go without eating?"

"Uh, a pretty long time I imagine?" Joe guessed.

"Years?" Cub guessed, eyebrows lifting on his face. "Decades? Long enough for us to eventually hop over and land on this pretty server?"

Ren caught on quicker, his ears laying flat. His voice turned steely, a low growl radiating through each word. "You think it had been waiting here? Like- like a trap?"

"No, that's not possible," Joe argued. "Xisuma and I are super secret about what we look for. The only way that it could possibly know, would be by looking at our previous homes. But even then, it would just have a guess!"

"A guess based off of previous worlds," Cub said.

"We have a traitor then," Ren stated boldly. 

"Maybe," Cub stated, sliding the stick back into his inventory. He stretched, elytra moving in a way impossible (as if the man himself had wings-) before it settled inanimate as it should be. For the smallest flicker, Cub's eyes were nearly glowing. "How would you two feel about spreading a little chaos?"

"What do you have in mind?" Joe asked anxiously.

"Well, if it's a trap…why not spring it?"

The problem with living with Doc was Cub was intimately familiar with the man's redstone. Cub himself was rather talented with the binary system, but usually hadn't the patience to create the complex mechanism. Joe rarely used redstone personally, but he had enough resources and overarching awareness of the community schedule to know exactly when to strike.

"Oh baby," Cub said, whistling affectionately as he eyed something Doc had made. Ren had a sneaking suspicion the man was going to replicate the fine intricacies into something much more diabolical. 

"I can smell Etho all over this thing," Ren rumbled. He gave another heavy sniff, before snorting and sneezing twice. "Oh, gross! It smells like chickens everywhere! And not in a good way!"

"Here's the important wire," Cub informed the man, waving towards a thin unassuming stretch of red powder. With a careless scuff of his shoe, he broke the connection without any fanfare. Cub smirked cheekily, saying teasingly: "oh, oops."

"You're a devil," Ren chuckled, tail thwacking the delicate machinery and sending bits of fur floating away. 

Joe of course felt much worse about the situation. He was able to monitor the location of everyone- it was far too easy to convince Keralis to take a shift off and let Joe cover it. Joe felt pretty bad about it, but Cub did have a point. Cub had also said if anyone asked, he manhandled and blackmailed Joe into letting him continue his evil ploy.

"Okay, we're all good down here!" Ren shouted up from where he had clawed up the panels and vanished into the belly of the redstone concoction. Joe exhaled nervously, drumming his fingers along the control panel without pressing down on any of them. 

"Yep, Joe you can press the button now."

Joe whined miserably, calling into the pit: "I know but I really don't want to!"

"Push the freakin' button, man!" 

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this!" Joe shouted back.

The box rumbled. Scout, who had been dormant or sleeping, startled awake in a jolt. Cub and Ren appeared from below the floor, scrambling up to peer through the one way glass. Slowly, the wall of sea-lanterns withdrew on the furthest wall. Scout shifted away from it, dragging claws and loud scratching feathers that had Ren wincing and rubbing his ears. The monstrosity of feathers piqued Cub's interest whilst simultaneously making him hesitant to stare at it so openly. Something about… looking at Scout was bothering him, pressing achingly on his eyes. It itched inside his body, touching his nerves with little zaps of discomfort.

Scout shuffled away, scrambling with lethargic weak movements. A red woolen blanket slid off of it, revealing broken tarnished hind-legs barely spotted below a bastardized set of wings resembling tailfeathers. An emaciated ribcage peeked below feathers, little spine ridges of vertebra caught Joe's eyes with a lurching sort of horror.

Normally, the wall was made to rise suddenly and create the box. Rerouting the redstone and reversing the signal slowly withdrew the single wall- effectively freeing the creature from it's rudimentary varmint trap. Joe was sure he had seen Scar capture feral cats with a similar design, only much smaller.

The open maw of FiFi's cave beckoned Scout forth. The creature sluggishly moved, struggling to orient and coordinate it's many limbs. It looked a bit like a gangly feathered spider at times, then like a prehistoric flying animal grounded to the land.

"Isn't that a sight," Cub marveled. The man itched to touch the feathers, to stroke the broken vanes and trace the areas where the worst of the damage had been cut free. Cub suddenly had a fairly good idea of what Stress had been up to, spotting patches of hasty trimmed quills and a bandage on it's exposed back.

"That's…horrible," Joe whispered. The man wore an unhealthy flush, conflicting with a ghastly pale shade of his skin. He looked queasy, whereas Ren just looked perplexed.

"Dude, I don't know if I want to chase that thing or kill it with fire," Ren admitted. He shuddered, grimacing.

"Well boys," Cub said, clapping them on the back heartily. "Congrats on releasing an abomination to the server!"

"Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick," Joe said weakly.

"I'll say. That thing had fleas, man."

Cub snickered. "I have a feeling this will be very interesting."

Grian recognized the sudden open darkness. He looked at it and thought: freedom.

The cave was familiar in a sluggish way- yet faster than his mind had been. Things were coming to him, visions and ideas. Little whispers of thoughts that accompanied each movement and action in a way they hadn't before. In the times before, it would take ages for idea to turn to concept, and transform into action. Now, he felt a gentle narrator in awe of each movement as it occurred.

The wall was gone, the darkness open. An ache in him grew, return to the dark. Out of sight. They cannot watch you there.

They could not watch him in the dark, and he began to move.

The cave was not cold but it was not warm either. It felt like all caves had before, but Grian had never the capacity to so openly recognize the difference. There was no lichen here, no dampness. No soft grass or fluffy fabric. He had not taken the red-blanket with him, he had not thought of it and as such, it was not a potential.

Grian simply was. He moved, clawing and shifting. His body did not hurt as much as it had before. The aches were not bright, did not steal his thoughts. His mind felt lighter, the fog thinning. There was something painful- he had been seen, but it was better now in the dark.

How had he been trapped? He was careful to not walk above the caves where the light would perceive him, where They would see him. (This confused him, why was he so worried? He had been in the light and They were not there-). He had to stay in the shadows, in the crevices and caves for…for a reason.

Why? He wondered thickly. Why am I hiding?

He had to hide, he knew this better than he knew himself. It was important, he forced it into his existence, his identity. More important than a name (I am Grian ) was the urge to hide. 

He climbed, clawing with the hurting bits on the ends of his limbs. He could feel the stone hurt where before he had forgotten how hurting was painful. He dragged himself, limbs were not moving as they once did. He was clean, and now he was dirty (why was he thinking of this?)

Scout, they called him Scout. He was not Scout, he was Grian (perhaps he was Scout and not Grian? Was he Scout now?) He was Grian.

It hurt to think too deeply. Shallow thoughts, simple awareness. He needed to hide, this cave was not safe. There were no holes here to burrow inside and sleep away the fear. There was no crevice, not like the cave before- (the void called to him, it sang it's song and the Universe cried-).

He would return there. It was a dumb idea to come to this cave where he had been captured. There was something new here as well, something large with strange colours. Red and orange, he was quite fond of red, but it grew in a carving created by the humans. Humanoid, with one eye in its rock skull.

Oh, how had he forgotten? They had told him to Watch, and some old thoughts and instincts forced him to do so. That old fear had controlled him, They said to Watch and he was a fool to ever dare to defy it. They were not here, but it had hurt to defy and it hurt to do so. They forced him to look, and now he was too afraid to look again.

He knew better. He could be better. He had to hide- to stay in the dark where they would not see him. He could wait longer (why? Why was he waiting?) and he would do so where the ground was deeper and darker. He could nestle somewhere safe, waiting until he remembered why he had to wait.

Grian crawled. His wings (they were wings, he remembered they were called wings) dragged and caught. The woman had done something to them, had clipped them and torn them where they hurt the most and now they did not. It was an old ache, something he had been unaware of until its absence translated itself to his thoughts. They had helped him but then they had hurt him. They had fixed him, but he was too broken (wasn't he?)

He remembered what they said in hideous whispers, in places he wasn't listening but saw their lips move. He did not remember language but knew their tongue. Why is a bird underground? Cave Chicken. Weird monstrosity.

Why did he have wings? He couldn't fly- he couldn't imagine it. He knew to glide. He knew how to throw himself forward, to scrape limbs and bury rocks in his soft squishy skin. He knew how to tumble off cliffs- he knew how to fall.

He did not know how to fly, but he knew to survive. He knew how to sleep, to rest and wait for something-.

'What am I waiting for?' Grian thought, tucking himself as small as possible in a crevice of stone and andesite. He knew the name, could see the binary figures composing its name. He hadn't seen andesite before, but knew its touch and coldness. 'Why was I waiting?'

How joyous and hideously sad it was to recognize himself. To recognize sentience, thought disguised in apathetic lethargy. Had he known he was alive in the months-years earlier? Had he recognized life itself?

'I'm waiting,' he settled upon. He closed his eyes, shielding himself and waiting for the drift of the sun and the rise of darkness. It soothed him, a balm to a burnt sour patch somewhere in his heart. The moon was small, a fraction of it's true capacity. It would cycle, although Grian could not name how he knew that. It would wax and wane, would shine its beauty upon his hideous body in false mockery of a friend. 

It was nighttime, at its darkest, and Grian knew he had to move. He had to crawl, to drag himself further and tumble across ravines where he would flutter and break upon the stone. He had to move forward, to endure and continue. 

'I know how to fall,' Grian thought to himself in human's stolen words. 'I know how to get up again.'

"Well, what would you know," Cub remarked. In a rare display of open awe, the man spun around and peered around the vast expanse of FiFi's lair. "That giant monster actually managed to drag itself out of here unseen."

"I can smell the mangy mutt," Ren huffed, his nose wrinkling wildly in the cave. "Ugh, really rancid, my dudes."

"But it left a trail," Joe stated. He touched the ground, tracing a small tangible feather that had caught itself in gravel. He held the little feather, spinning it to catch the dawn's light and shine a small iridescent sheen. "It dragged itself out of here."

"It's smart, it waited until night to do so."

"Wasn't smart enough to fly," Ren growled. The man pushed down his sunglasses, squinting with slit eyes into the darkness of the cave. "Hey, how long do you think we have before the others realize we let the big chicken out?"

"Eh, maybe a few hours?" Cub guessed. The man didn't seem that concerned by the idea, eying the empty box with a careless shrug to both shoulders. "If Scout really is some sort of sleeper agent, it's better we know what to prepare for."

"I mean, I get what you're saying," Joe muttered. "But I don't exactly agree with it. We just let loose a wild, terrifying monster on this server. Who knows what it'll do!"

"Oh it'll find a nice cozy cave to hunker down in and lick its wounds," Ren scoffed. His hackles lifted temporarily, lips curling back to flash his impressive sharp eyeteeth. With a wink, partially disguised behind his dark sunglasses, Ren reassured the other Admin: "Don't worry. It's still feral, it'll just go hide for a bit."

"Yep," Cub agreed, popping his words. He stretched both arms, shoulders popping quietly with the movement. The man hummed, cracking other joints that Joe was certain weren't exactly supposed to crack. "Well, boys. I'm off, I have things to do. Stuff to make. The grind never stops."

"See ya later, my dude," Ren yipped. Joe waved silently as Cub spread his elytra, conjured rockets and escaped high into the morning sun. 

"I'm not gonna lie, Ren," Joe said belatedly. "Cub scares me."

"He scares all of us," Ren soothed, not actually doing anything to comfort Joe in any way. 

Cub had expected Xisuma earlier. 

He knew of course, that that admin would swoop in with all the fury of a man finding something precious taken from him. Cub wasn't exactly new to the scene, he had joined the community on the fourth server hop, inducted into the strange little world alongside Rendog, Iskall, and Scar. He had been around a while now, but not as long as some of the others.

That being said, he was well accustomed to Xisuma's rare rage and more frequent irritation. He knew that Doc would similarly be spiteful for the next few days, and to watch his back in case any occasional redstone machinery were to suspiciously malfunction around him.

When Xisuma stormed into his home, likely tracking his player data ping-point, Cub had just finished setting out the tea and sliced bread and cookies. Cub took a seat, gestured to the chair across from him silently, and began to sip.

"I am…beyond words with you," Xisuma seethed. The man vibrated, his armor containing the majority of the movements but Cub knew how to read the admin. "You cheeky little man."

"I guess you found my card?"

"You left a literal calling card," Xisuma spat, slapping the piece of paper in question onto the table. Cub had to make sure Xisuma knew exactly had jailbroken the little bird. Why not claim the act himself.

"Well, glad to see it worked?"

"You set it free," Xisuma stormed. He was too angry, too fired up to take the proffered seat. Instead, Xisuma paced, gauntleted hands scrabbling on his visor and fisting the small organic tendrils of his Axolotl skin. "Do you have any idea of what you have done?"

"I have a pretty good guess," Cub admitted. He plucked at his bread, pulling it apart between his fingers with a violent sort of glee. "I knew you wouldn't let it out, so I took some emergency measures."

"I had it under control!" Xisuma roared, spinning on his heels. There was something dangerous in his eyes- a threat that Cub understood implicitly. Xisuma thundered: "You had no right to let it out. This is bigger than you, it's bigger than this server."

Cub, for the first time, felt the smallest bits of guilt stir up. He defended himself quietly, "you weren't going to let it spring the trap-."

"Because I'm not sure it's a trap at all!" Xisuma shouted.

Cub stared. He swallowed, then jerkily fished for his tea to take a large gulp. He asked quietly, "what do you mean it isn't a trap? What else could it be?"

"I…I don't know," Xisuma said. Finally, the man wilted. He collapsed into the proffered chair, exhaustedly looking skywards at the wooden roof of Cub's little meeting spot. "At times, I think its a simple mob but other times…I don't know."

Cub had already come to his own conclusion. More often than not, he was right- which meant he had a bit of an ego. He knew this, but trusted his instincts more than he trusted rumors and halfhearted messages sent out by others. He knew Scout was on the server, had seen the thing and knew it was too strange to be intentional. If both Doc and Etho were stumped, then clearly it was made for a purpose- and what purpose was there beyond sneaking into one of the most reclusive protected servers in existence?

"I was talking with Joe and Ren earlier today," Cub reluctantly shared. "We were thinking about how Scout got into the server."

"I still can't figure it out," Xisuma confessed tiredly. "I've looked over the code and firewalls so much, I still see it when I'm sleeping. I had Iskall take a look as well, and he's got an eye for traps."

Cub felt the same sort of dread sit heavy in his stomach. He asked: "have you considered maybe…maybe it didn't sneak in, but it was waiting for us to come here."

Xisuma immediately shook his head, dismissing the thought. "Impossible, that would be a ridiculously small chance. Nothing would hold out or gamble on such a tiny probability."

"Well, it isn't a random guess if it was able to look and find the trends across all previous servers, and make a good prediction on where we'd eventually go."

Xisuma settled. He contemplated the words, thinking them through carefully. When he spoke, it was gentle and dangerously calm: "that implies that someone close to us has been leaking Hermitcraft secrets."

"Perhaps," Cub agreed with a pointed look. "Or, maybe someone has gone missing."

Xisuma exhaled heavily, wilting under the tired weight of it all. "I've reached out to everyone from the previous servers- Biffa has contacted the rest. Nobody is unaccounted for, and Biffa hasn't been included in selecting new worlds for some time. The only person who helps is Joe."

"Which means someone here on this server presently has been spreading secrets, or sharing information."

Xisuma aged at that moment, looking both devastated and weary. The man fished for the bread, tearing it apart for something to do with his nervous energy. He said very quietly: "I know."

Mumbo Jumbo had been having a good morning, thank you very much. He had just about finished the front of his mega-build, finally mastering the tripwire connections necessary to activate an enormous door behind a waterfall façade. It had been his greatest stress, besides that of a current cryptid on the server.

Admittedly, he had been trying to distance himself a little bit from the big feathery thing. Something about the shared moment they had- with it's uncanny parroting of Mumbo's voice and the raw desperation bleeding into Mumbo's heart…well. Mumbo was a coward, and a darn good one thank you very much.

He had assumed the situation was under control quite nicely, since Scar on occasion gave him updates and Pearl was sulking around quite terrifyingly. Mumbo would much rather attend to his builds and complicated redstone then try and comfort Pearl, who was much more likely to attack him with a pointy stick.

He was fine with it. It was a good arrangement, he would wave to Impulse in the morning, exchange food with Scar or talk about the recent issues in the server. Sometimes Mumbo would take a break and go for a nice stroll all the way towards the outer reaches of the server still untouched by others. It was a nice life!

Except, it wasn't. When Mumbo woke up, stretching in his bed, he felt a very familiar very unsettling sensation of being watched.

He knew this sensation well, because for a good portion of his time before he dedicated himself to building his megabase, he had actually sought out this feeling. He had wanted to find the creature. And now, apparently, the creature had gone out of its way to find him.

"Oh, no no," Mumbo moaned, climbing out of bed hastily. He hurried out of the small nook tucked away inside the mountain, scurrying out into his sorting room to peer between each chest anxiously. Fretting, he mumbled: "oh, you aren't supposed to be here! You're supposed to be in that big box. Oh, of course you'd come back. I don't reckon you're a homing pigeon after all this? Oh, I'm an absolute spoon!"

Above him, echoed in his voice came a quiet timid: "Spoon."

Mumbo squeaked, spluttering on his words. He pinwheeled his arms, collapsing backwards on his rear. Jaw slack, he stared upwards in startled surprise at the enormous shape of something feathered tucked into a crude rocky shelf. Purple feathers vibrated, ruffling anxiously under his gaze.

"Erm," Mumbo said, blinking baffled at the sight. "Er, hello…Scout?"

Scout flinched back, tucking himself further into the tiny shelf. Mumbo could have sworn he had a torch placed there previously, lest it become a Creeper nest.

Mumbo scrambled to his feet, craning his neck to stare directly upwards. Scout clearly did not like the attention, but made no movement to actually attack or express his distress. In fact, he was a bit like a pet clam.

"Okay then," Mumbo said, feeling very off kilter. "You can uh…just…stay there?"

And Scout did.

Mumbo was loathe to admit it, but he had never been so productive before.

It was nice in a strange way to have such an attentive audience. Scout did not always stay hidden in his little crevice. In fact, when it stretched into dusk or when Mumbo willingly turned off the redstone lamps, Scout would slowly venture further out. Twice now, Mumbo had shrieked himself silly when he found the large creature perched on top of his towering stack of chests. The menace was actively preventing him from accessing his materials!

Not to mention the bird had an eye for stealing anything remotely red. Not that Mumbo was building with much red to begin with, and thankfully Scout hadn't the taste for taking redstone itself, but the monstrosity was purposefully hoarding any scraps of red cloth or bricks it could find. Mumbo had conceded that if he was hiding a fugitive inside his base, he may as well treat his little gremlin friend well.

Scout hadn't taken too well to Mumbo slowly climbing his way up to the small perch. The creature had hissed at him, spluttering through an assortment of sounds and noises resembling a skeleton experiencing an identity crisis. He heard something which sounded very similar to Cub's recognizable (and terrifying) cackling, crossed with a creeper's hiss. Mumbo felt each hair on his arms stand on end, even his moustache felt a bit more prickly then.

"I'm just- just making it bigger!" Mumbo squeaked, trying to defend his actions. A few well timed strikes of a pickaxe against the wall, as well as hastily thrown down stone and andesite made Scout apparently recognize what he was doing. The beast settled, holding itself stiff and shielded with ratty wings and scavenged bits of red fabric. Mumbo really needed to invest in getting some larger swaths, he wondered if anyone would buy his excuse of venturing into making banners.

"I did not make this," Mumbo muttered, tapping his chin. He squinted, considered getting his spyglass just for a better look. "Mm, nope. I certainly did not make that."

The little alcove that Mumbo had hastily expanded had simply…evolved. Like an ugly worm transforming into a graceful butterfly, it was difficult to even see where the alcove was before. The ledge simply…did not exist. But Mumbo knew better, because the roof (which admittedly looked quite good) did not exist earlier either.

"Alright mate," Mumbo warned the ceiling. "I'm coming up! You better be decent with all those…feathers!"

Feeling a bit silly, he threw down scaffolding. He towered slowly, taking time to listen for any angry cat noises as he ascended. Once against the roof, he was able to see the smaller discrepancies in the design. 

"My word, when did you learn to texturize?" Mumbo spluttered, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Even Scar would be proud of such detail- there was gravel somehow incorporated even!

The hole in the ceiling now resembled an artful crack, a little gap to wriggle inside. Mumbo felt a bit like a bat, hiding out in his own attic. This of course was much darker and much colder than any attic he would want to live in. Apparently to his new feathery mute neighbor, it was perfect.

Scout rumbled from the back corner, alerting Mumbo to where the creature was hidden. Instead of hiding in a little gap in the wall, Scout had… made a new home for himself. And apparently had taken it upon himself to fix Mumbo's sloppy work.

"Hi," Mumbo said, still feeling almost dizzy with the revelation. Scout could place materials down. Scout could build. "I uh, I like your work, mate. Very…clean."

Scout ruffled, something preening without actually moving. Mumbo sat down very suddenly.

He could feel the impression of the creature looking at him, but couldn't see it. Mumbo didn't feel that unsettled by it.

Mumbo knew of course, that Scout was sentient to some degree. He had the ability to problem solve, to understand. They asked him for diamonds and he returned with everything similar. They asked him for preferences, and Scout showed them time and time again that he had taste.

"Hey," Mumbo greeted him. Mumbo wondered, at what point would the others look at Scout and think: there's a person in there.

"So uh, I was thinking of trying to texturize the front of my base with some leafage," Mumbo explained. He rambled, barely able to see his hand in front of his face. It was dark, which Mumbo understood was Scout's preference. Or, maybe, he simply didn't want to be seen.

"I uh, I love what you did with the stone," Mumbo admitted fondly. "Do you uh…know how vines work?"

Scout stared at him, watching him. Mumbo did not wilt, because Scout could have left him and ignored him at any point. Yet he didn't.

'He's listening to me,' Mumbo thought fondly. 'He's listening.'

"Is there anything I can get for you?" Mumbo asked gently. He didn't press himself, didn't force himself onto the timid creature. "Can I help you in any way?"

Scout shuffled, wings curling around him. Very softly, timid and scared in a way that hurt Mumbo's heart, the winged beast echoed Mumbo's voice: "Spoon."

"I am a spoon, yes," Mumbo chuckled, grinning despite it all. "My name is actually Mumbo, mate. Mumbo Jumbo, Redstone extraordinaire. You've found yourself in Hermitcraft, what a good accident you managed, eh?"

Scout shuffled. He said nothing else, but that was fine. 

Mumbo woke to the sounds of songbirds in his window. He stretched, pulled on his trousers and buttoned his shirt gazing at the bright sunshine and sparkling dew. The gentle rush of his waterfall lulled him into a comfortable level of alertness. A loud mighty clicking whistle of wild parrots greeted his sleepy yawn.

Mumbo paused, scratched his neck and thought sluggishly: 'I didn't think I had any parrots?'

The walk outside across his swinging rope bridges was one he truly enjoyed. The humidity was not so insufferable he choked on his words, but no so faint it was not refreshing. As he stopped and surveyed his build, he spotted a snaking green vine trapped between stone outcroppings. There, upon the top of the green vine, sat an unassuming light blue parrot. It eyed him, clicking its beak before it took to the air with mighty wings and long trailing tailfeathers.

Mumbo felt much more awake. He certainly had not found parrots, let alone brought them back to his base. It was not only the single cyan bird, but many exotic avians speckled his synthetic sanctuary. Little songbirds roosted on bits of rope and twine, preening one another with affectionate nuzzles. Larger scarlet macaws bobbed their heads back and forth, squawking with open mouths and flared wings. 

Greenery settled on his rocks, vines and moss compacted between boulders. Different foliage caught the mist of the rolling water, glowing brighter and greener than anywhere else. 

Mumbo thought: this is beautiful. Mumbo thought: I didn't do that?

He didn't do any of this. It wasn't near complete, only one tiny section had sudden vines and topiary incorporated into the boring grey andesite wall. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for Mumbo to envision how to continue and where to leave his marks.

It was…helpful. Really really helpful. 

Grinning, Mumbo spun on his heels. He ran across the floor of his base, cupping his hands to shout skywards to his attic: "oh you're a true pesky bird, aren't you!"

Mimicry, with a chattering parrot influence that Mumbo could almost imagine was laughter, Scout said: "Pesky bird."