The clear blue sky and the soothing chirping of birds greet Grian as he leaves the confines of the suffocating silence of the pitch-black environment of the End, bringing home his trophy of defeating the ender dragon herself, that is the huge dragon egg. He leaves his bed in glee as he runs towards his stuff cluttered in one place near his Nether portal, feeling his cheeks hurt from too much smiling.

  "Back from the End already, Grian?"

  Before he can reach his destination, he hears a Boatem member's voice greeting him from behind, making him jump a little in surprise and making him stop in his tracks. He knows that voice. It's obvious, especially the fact that five of them are literally living in the same village they created together. But why can't he recognise and pinpoint the person's voice? Doesn't matter. It will be easier if he just turns around and sees the owner themselves.

  With that in mind, he plans to greet them with the same glee he experienced earlier once he sees their face and flexes about his cool dragon egg, and he begins to turn around with a smile plastered back to his face. Instead of the warm and/or mischievous smile that he would always see whenever he encounters a Hermit, he can see the all-too-familiar white bunny ears sticking out of the dark chocolate hair, a pair of void-like eyes filled with manic and bloodlust, and a smile stretching from ear-to-ear looming right by his face, too close for comfort.

  "What's up, Gree-on? Did you miss me?" Sam greets with his signature casual demeanour.

  Grian jumps violently yet his cold body stays stiff in place as dread prevents him from run run run run run—

  "What's the matter? Are you so excited to see me that you're speechless?" Sam raises a brow as he huffs. "Gosh. I'm flattered to hear that, Gree-on. It made me almost not want to kill you."

  What?

  "I can't help it. If you hadn't taken Taurtis away from me when you did, I wouldn't have to do this. You understand, right?" Sam takes out a knife and twists the handle around as he tilts his head to the side.

  Grian should run away. He should or he'd die right here but his body refuses to listen to him and remains in place.

  Oh, gosh. He already escaped and survived that hell a long time ago.

  Not again!

  What should he do? He's going to kill him, he's going to kill him, he's going to kill him!

  It's high school all over again!

  Before he realises, his body jumps to the side and falls to the grass with his elbow, feeling a sting by his cheek. As he brings a shaking hand over it, he can feel the familiar sticky liquid dripping down from a drawn line. He turns to see Sam standing where Grian used to be with the hand holding the knife outstretched as if he just cut something, in which he did.

  It was Grian. Again. And he's going to fear for his life, only to die this time.

  Grian tries to stand, but his legs feel like lead and even if he can manage to crawl with the help of his arms, he still couldn't escape fast enough to evade certain death. So, he can only wheeze and tremble like being frozen in cold winter as his teary eyes stare at Sam, who's gradually making his way towards him with the same grin he wears whenever he hunts his prey without remorse of taking a life.

  "You shouldn't have stolen Taurtis from me, Gree-on. We were doing just fine living happily together but you just had to ruin it for me." Sam looms over Grian as he stands next to him, raising the knife over his head.

  Grian can only watch the knife glint from the light bouncing off it as Sam swings the weapon down towards his face in a blur.

  "No!" Grian screams as he wheezes, feeling his heart pound like a drum against his chest.

  His eyes dart left to right, only to see his cluttered items in proximity, large farms stretching far and wide, and unique houses that you won't get to see typically in towns or cities from a distance. He can finally feel air entering his lungs as his heart begins to calm down, sensing the adrenaline leaving his body as he lies back to the comforts of his bed.

  Why is Grian dreaming about him now after all these years? He should've moved on from that hell when he came to Hermitcraft. He should've healed after being reassured for years that the dangers of his past won't come back to hurt him.

  Yet, why is he still shaking like a leaf in fear for his life? Why is the lump gradually clogging in his throat as he stops the threatening tears from falling?

  Why is he still like this?

  The images of every Hermit's face flash before his eyes alongside all the fun times they had together since he joined them a few years ago. The heaviness in his chest lightens in an instant as he releases a huff and cracks a smirk. They won't let him stay dejected for long, huh?

  There are still many things he has to do now that he and his friends formed Boatem. He doesn't have any time to dwell on the past and lie down all day. With that in mind, Grian rises again and begins to gather the tools he needs for this day.

  The dragon egg won't retrieve itself, after all.

  ─── ? ??☆: *.? .* :☆?. ───

  It’s been a long, hot day since Grian has started gathering more materials in order for him to finally get started on making his own shop. Since it’s pretty early from when they all settled in this clear and tranquil land, it’s more difficult to set up everything one needs to stock up the sales, causing the prices to skyrocket with the labour and everything. Fortunately, he has his wheat farm to help him trade with the villagers to at least aid him despite the prices being a total rip-off in his opinion.

  But beggars can’t be choosers, so he really needs to do something or he’ll get behind by the other Boatem members.

  Well, he already is, to be honest.

  He’s the only one who doesn’t have a house yet. He’s like a very rich hobo where he only has his baby chest monster to his name.

  Before increasing more of the junk pile, Grian spots a man with a tiny hat in the distance, looking more and more like a headless chicken considering how he’s walking in circles right by his wagon—boat, thing? With a chuckle, he flaps his wings and flies to his neighbour, plans for the rest of the day already forgotten.

  He realises just how huge Scar’s starting base is now that he’s standing right beside it. He lands gracefully with little to no sound as he has to crane his neck upwards to barely see the tip of the copper roof. He looks back down to see Scar standing still as he seems to be in deep thought, most probably about what to add or change in his base and with a grin, Grian walks forward with silent steps and stops right behind the scarred man.

  “Hello, Scar!” Grian chirps.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Scar jolts violently as he exclaims, turning back in an instant as he stares at Grian’s direction with emerald eyes as wide as saucers. “Oh! Oh, jeez. You scared the life out of me, Grian.” He exhales as he holds a hand to his chest.

  “That’s what I do.” Grian shrugs nonchalantly despite his grin still plasters on his face.

  “Are you here to check on my newly-built Lanbo?” Scar asks after he sobers.

  “Yeah.” What’s a Lanbo? “Your base is beautiful from my area, by the way.” Grian compliments as he smiles softly.

  “Thank you!” Scar beams.

  “How do you get in, though?”

  Scar becomes silent for awfully a few seconds before opening his mouth again.

  “Since I got so used to using the elytra last time, you have to, uh, use the most inefficient way and scaffold your way up.” Scar chuckles and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

  “There’s no way up?” Grian furrows his brows.

  “Nope.”

  “Why don’t you make a ladder?” Grian asks as he explores the space beneath the huge wagon with Scar following suit.

  “I might make a water stream because it's kind of steam punky so it could have like—”

  “Okay.”

  “—like a little water stream or something.” Scar explains from behind him.

  “Ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous.” Grian comes back out as he deadpans, moving his gaze from the towering build in front of him to Scar who’s now smirking beside him.

  Scar chuckles, “It is ridiculous. Well, dude. I-It just goes with the, uh, with the tycoon costume. You, know...” He shrugs. “I'm just an eccentric fella.”

  “And a tiny hat.” Grian smirks as he moves his gaze at the small version of a red top hat on Scar’s head.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Oh!” Scar yells before snickering. “Jeez.” He walks away from Grian with a slouch but chuckles. “Get out of here. I'm gonna ro- I'm gonna run you over.” He walks back to where he came from as he declares an empty threat with a raised fist.

  Grian huffs as he continues to look at his friend’s shenanigans. Before he’s about to walk away, he now notices how dark the bags are beneath Scar’s eyes, feeling a pang in his chest for a second for not noticing it sooner.

  “Scar, have you not been sleeping lately?” Grian asks as he keeps his tone as casual as possible.

  "I've just, you know, been building here and there as you can see." Scar points a thumb to the wagon as emphasis. "Nothing new." He shrugs a bit too casually than he naturally acted earlier.

  Grian can see how Scar's eyes look everywhere apart from his direction as his fingers twitch from behind his back. Is there something Scar doesn't want him to know?

  "Ah. Been awake all night planning on your projects left and right, eh?" Grian smiles with a nod as he pushes the earlier thought aside.

  It's probably nothing and he's overthinking it. Scar's not the only one who needs more sleep, if he's being honest.

  "You can already see by my red outfit. A great tycoon such as myself will never succumb to rest until his businesses become successful in the end." Scar plants his fists to his hips as he confidently explains. "Well, those materials aren't gonna collect themselves, so this is where I must leave you for today. Have a nice day, Gree-on!" He bows and slowly steps back as he waves goodbye.

  "See you later, Scar!" Grian mirrors the action and turns back to prepare his wings for flight, but he stops in his tracks as he senses something really off about the conversation. "Wait. What did you just say?" He turns back to confirm with furrowed brows.

  Scar stops walking as Grian successfully catches his attention and turns back.

  "Hm? What was that?" Scar questions innocently with a smile.

  "What did you just say?" Grian repeats.

  "I said 'have a nice day, Grian'."

  "Oh." Grian's brows raise. "Okay. See you then!" He waves once again but this time, he doesn't hesitate to turn back, bends his knees, and propels himself with a huge flap of his vibrant wings.

  "Goodbye!" Scar's voice fades away from behind as Grian is getting farther in every flap.

  ─── ? ??☆: *.? .* :☆?. ───

  Red.

  So much red.

  Red as an apple falling off an oak tree.

  Red as the roses that will prick you with their deadly thorns.

  His hand continues to hold onto the knife's handle even if the blade has already hit its target on a teen with headphones and a short-sleeved azure sweater.

  His gaze darts from the blood oozing where the weapon is, painting the blue red to the unfamiliar face of a brunet who's eventually turning pale.

  He knows that he should be worried about this. He knows that he should lament and apologize for what he did. Yet for the first time in a long time, the itch that had been constant at the back of his mind and inside his throat finally stopped.

  He finally lets go of the handle, letting the weapon stay in place as he slowly steps back, ignoring how the boy wobbles as he places his hands in front of him. They're soaked in red.

  Just like the color of the crayon he used to color his drawings back when he was younger.

  Just like the familiar feathers of a certain person.

  Just like the sweater of that same owner of the vibrant wings that he longed to rip off feather by feather until nothing is left.

  In a blink of an eye, the brunet turns into someone with blonde hair. Familiar strawberry blonde hair yet he is somehow unable to recognize the owner's face despite the familiarity.

  The same blonde with a smirk on his face when he did something mischievous.

  The same blonde who instigated a war through harmless pranks despite only joining them for a few months.

  The same blonde who he first thought was a bad kid back when they were young many years ago.

  The same blonde who started a war over mycelium with a smug grin on his face.

  The same blonde he pointed a knife at whenever he didn't listen to his requests, ignoring how he shook like a leaf and cowering in fear.

  The same blonde he shoved his fist with by the mouth to force-feed the plastic to the fellow teen, despite his vigorous coughing to try not to choke as the tears soaked his pale cheeks.

  He screams at the horrid sight as he jolts forward, heaving for air as Scar clutched his shirt by his drumming chest. Despite his effort to perspire to receive oxygen, he somehow can't breathe no matter what as his body trembles like a newborn fawn trying to walk for the first time.

  Why does he keep having these dreams about the terrifying things he knows he never did in his life yet still eerily feels like he's the culprit of them all?

  Scar doesn't want to hurt anyone yet the itch at the back of his mind tells him otherwise, not the same inner voice that usually tells him to annoy his friends. His eyes move from one decoration to another and realizes he’s inside the bedroom of his newly built Lanbo.

  It looks so perfect if you ask many people, like how Grian did earlier. But for him, it’s far from perfect. It's never perfect no matter how intricate or how rare the materials he used since those don’t matter for him. Tears fall from his eyes as he brings his legs to his chest and embraces them to try and replicate the comfort she would always bring him, but it's never the same.

  Scar just wants his Jellie back.

  ─── ? ??☆: *.? .* :☆?. ───

  Apart from the gentle rustle of the dancing leaves and the humming of the llama outside the wagon, Scar hates how it’s eerily quiet in his new house—how he feels lonely without her. He really should add finding Jellie at the top of his list, so he wouldn’t have to forget it with all the possible distractions. He’s relieved to discover that despite moving worlds taking a huge toll on an animal, Jellie can somehow world hop with him. Unfortunately, he has to find her like how you find a normal wild cat.

  It's a small price to pay, he convinces himself.

  With a sigh, Scar pours the steaming coffee from the pot to his orange mug with Jellie’s face printed on it. He brings the cup towards his lips and drinks the liquid but jerks it away immediately as it burns his tongue.

  Oops.

  He finally gets to drink the whole thing after blowing it for who knows how long. He walks down the ladder towards the bright blue sky, covering his face with an arm in reflex to shield his eyes from the light. Despite all the caffeine he intakes, his eyelids are still as heavy as anvils. He’s aware that it’s not healthy to stay awake at night but he can’t help but do so when his nightmares will always haunt him every night. He doesn’t know what triggered him to have those recently, but he’ll just have to endure it until it passes.

  “Scar!”

  He jumps at the call of his name, snapping him out of his thoughts as he turns to see a gleaming Grian waving his hand overhead in the distance.

  What’s this man plotting now?

  With a huff and a smile, Scar makes his way towards Grian’s area that’s starting to become a future chest monster.

  “Well, well, well. Someone has been up early today.” Scar opens a few chests to see a compilation of various materials.

  Steal some coal.

  “Considering everyone’s progressing here and there but me, I have to up my game so I won’t be left behind.” Grian places his fists to his hips as he huffs. “I mean, look at your ridiculous wagon. And you call that a starter base.” He adds as he throws a hand towards the direction where Scar’s Lanbo is located.

  "What can I say?" Scar shrugs. “I’m the best tycoon there is.”

  Scar takes a glance at Grian’s appearance and averts it to the nearest distraction that is the van a few distance away to the left, reminiscing about the nightmare he had yesterday regarding a strawberry blonde person wearing a blue sweater and headphones. That couldn’t have been him, right? It’s probably just his brain making up things that ended up with him misunderstanding the situation.

  “What’s he doing over there?” Scar asks, distracting himself from pondering about a thought that’s over his head. “Mumbo, I mean.”

  “Well, so... Mumbo has to replant every…” Grian turns to see what Scar is looking at and begins to explain, but his words blur in Scar’s ears as he looks around the tranquil surroundings, until he stumbles upon a dragon egg that’s sitting on top of an anvil to his right and gasps.

  Touch the egg.

  Scar doesn’t hesitate to walk away from Grian and beelines to the magnificent purple egg.

  “What?” Scar whispers under his breath in disbelief, barely keeping himself together from exploding in excitement.

  He looks back and forth between a ranting Grian and the egg, deciding whether to wait for Grian to notice before he messes with it or he’ll do it right now.

  “...replant them in the same spot.” Grian stops for a moment as he gazes in Scar’s direction. Well, that’s faster than he expected. “Uh, you read that- you read that sign, right?” He points his index finger beside Scar as he asks.

  Scar turns around to see what his friend is pointing at and true to his word, there’s a birch sign with glowing words that he can barely read as “Grian's super special egg, do not touch!!”

  “What one? This one?” Scar turns to face Grian and points a thumb behind him as he confirms.

  Touch it. Touch the egg.

  “'Grian's super special egg, do not touch'?” Grian recites the words on the sign as his eyes dart between Scar and the egg with intense focus.

  This is why it’s so fun to mess with his fellow Hermits.

  “I know, but- but what if I touched it really quick?”

  “Don't—don't touch the egg.” Grian insists as his eyes narrow.

  “But what if I did it really nicely, like softly?” Scar smirks as he hovers his hand over the egg and pretends to continuously rub it gently.

  “It specifically says 'do not touch'.” Grian deadpans.

  “Can I rub it?”

  Touch it.

  “No. Don't touch the egg.” Scar ignores Grian’s words and pats his hand on the egg without hesitation before it disappears and turns into purple particles. “That- Scar!” Grian’s eyes blow wide in surprise.

  “Oh, no!” Scar nervously laughs as he looks around to find the huge purple egg, only to find it on the ground behind him and quickly switches into glee.

  “Dang flabbit.” Grian’s shoulders slump in defeat as he comments.

  Throw the egg into the void.

  Grian turns to his side, making Scar’s gaze to follow and see Mumbo standing outside his van, and he hears the blonde declaring in confidence before he runs to the mustached man. He doesn’t waste time in breaking the great news to his other friend with a smile like a kid bragging about their new toy, inviting him to do the same. The two of them hurried back to Grian’s side and it only takes Mumbo a moment but he, too, joins in on the fun.

  The raven-haired man suggests tapping the egg until it teleports, making it a combined game of tag and hide-and-seek. It’s all fun and games when Grian has to run back and forth to try and get ahead of Scar and Mumbo but failing miserably.

  Well, until Mumbo lost the egg, that is.

  Scar looks around Grian’s area while Mumbo nervously chuckles, trying to lighten up the mood by distracting the blonde but fails miserably. When he spots the large black oblong sitting on the grass a few distance ahead of him, he sprints towards it as he declares that he’s found it with a grin. He stops beside it to wait for Grian to notice as well and once he does, Grian doesn’t hesitate to use a piston and a redstone block to help him pick it up safely.

  Throw it.

  He cheers at the accomplishment while Mumbo continues to nervously chuckle but this time, his tense shoulders and furrowed brows finally relax.

  “This is why we can't have nice things.” Grian walks away from Scar towards an anvil and lets it sit there once more.

  “Genuinely, my heart actually sank when we couldn't find it then. I was like 'I thought we had totally ruined your thing’.” Mumbo narrates and chuckles midway, making his voice wobble at the last part. “All right. Well, I'm gonna get back to my VW bus listening to Wonderwall. Uh...” He begins to walk backwards as he begins to bid his farewell while Grian huffs from Scar’s left. “I guess I'll see you all soon?”

  “Are you familiar with Wonderwall?” Scar turns to face Grian as he asks with an eyebrow raised.

  Throw the egg into the hole.

  “I'll see you real soon, don't worry about it.” Grian smiles as he waves a hand towards Mumbo.

  “Yeah, Scar never heard Wonderwall.” Scar turns to the right as he hears Mumbo comments with brows furrowed in disbelief.

  “He's got a tiny hat.” Grian smirks from Scar’s left as he stares on top of his head, most probably the same tiny hat he keeps making fun of since the start.

  “Jeez!” Scar snorts and looks to the ground as he walks away from his friends in feign disappointment. “Dang it! That's it.”

  Throw it into the void.

  He runs to where the egg is and taps it when he passes by, seeing it land on the floor where it exactly was earlier. “I touched your egg again!” He yells with a grin as he can hear Mumbo’s boisterous laughter starting to fade away.

  “Scar!” Grian’s voice squawks from behind.

  Scar wipes the tear in his eye as he continues to run away from the mess he made, the earlier predicament long forgotten.