Chapter Text
Hello, my name’s Xisuma. I pronounce it “Uh-soo-mah”, but the end raiders we get here in the Deep End don’t always say it right. Nobody has any nicknames for me except my older brother, Exano. He called me his “little Xi”. I called him “Ex”, like the letter. Called. He’s dead now. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure the elders set us up. You can’t get as old as they are without realising what causes code-scars. Then again, everybody derps sometimes.
Everyone seems so relieved now that Exano’s gone. I won’t pretend to understand. He just got a different set of code; nothing about him was a “curse”. He was just different, and that difference made him a scapegoat, taboo, and dangerous. I lived with him my whole life, though – as much as we could, with his exploration job. He taught me so much code, including cadences he made up himself. He taught me how to do that, too, and English so I could chat with the end raiders who stumbled across our settlement.
I miss him. It’s only been four hours since the ritual the elders performed to lift the “curse”. In fact, I’m doing one of the things he used to do all the time: sitting and dangling my feet into the Void. I told the elders I needed space to “snap out of it” and that “it’s hard to finally be free”. I’ve never felt the need to lie to people like that. I guess that’s what grief does.
Anyway, that’s enough. I’m just waffling to the Void. I know Exano sometimes said he could hear responses from its depths, but I’m not there yet.
===
The house was awfully quiet. Xisuma was still shaking off the cold of the Void as he shut the door behind him, blocking the view of prying neighbours and nosy townspeople. He ran his fingers through his hair, working through the knots and tangles that had developed in the medium-length locks. He hissed as a claw snagged a larger tangle, slowly working through it until it was separated and smoothed down. He sighed. He needed to clean himself up anyway. Might as well get it over with.
He took off his long-sleeved shirt in a hurry once he arrived in his bedroom, looking at the dark grey fabric sadly. No, he wasn’t crying; there was dust in his eyes. His claws scraped along the endstone tiles as he tossed the shirt in the hamper, grabbing a light green t-shirt from the drawer. Sure, it was going to be colder, but he couldn’t bear seeing that shade of grey. It was the colour Exano had been wearing this afternoon. Honestly, he’d be fine not wearing the colour grey again for the rest of his life.
Xisuma peeled off the bandages over his code-scar, exposing the navy tear crossing his face. He touched the inflamed skin around the stitches, wincing at the irritation. Sighing, he grabbed a bottle of modified water from the bag the healers had given him, dampening a cloth and using it to clean the edges of the wound. He hissed as it burnt the sensitive areas of his skin despite the reduced effects of the liquid.
At least natural End bugs or glitches wouldn’t corrupt his code. He’s unprepared to deal with infections; he should learn that at some point. However, he has more pressing things to deal with. His internal clock ticks steadily toward “nightfall”, so he replaced the bandages, running a hand through his greasy hair. He sighed, rubbing purified endstone dust through it and turning it four shades lighter. The next few minutes were spent shaking it out, along with the grime the dust snatched up.
A knock on the front door. He pulled the t-shirt over his head, giving his medium-length hair another shake before going to answer it. The middle elder stood outside with a parcel in hand, standing stiffly a few metres away from the door. He opened the door fully, gesturing respectfully to the interior.
The elder shook her head, extending the hand with the parcel in it toward him. “A gift for you. I hope your recovery is swift. The healers suggested that you take the rest of today off, along with tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Xisuma replied, accepting the package. The elder spun on her heel and walked out as he unwrapped it with shaking hands. At the first glimpse of obsidian, he pulled the cloth back around the “gift”, turning his back to the retreating elder. He whispered a few words, trying to cover the tearing pain with a cough. He needed this.
The elder paused at the edge of the street. Without turning back, she stated, “My condolences for your loss.”
Xisuma nodded numbly, closing the door and setting the obsidian knife on the table. He took the cloth and pressed it to his face as he spoke words of healing to it. He felt it stop bleeding, stemming the violet stream on his face and leaving him free to wipe it away. He barely glanced at himself in the mirror when he grabbed the antiseptic from the counter, dabbing it over the fresh wound that cut through his right cheek.
Probably not worth it , he thought sullenly, covering the crossing code-scars with a hand. He collapsed backwards onto his bed. Definitely not worth it .
Stupid mortal tendencies to be selfish , the little voice in his head whispered. Exano wouldn’t be proud. You had to go and scar yourself again, just to receive some form of false sympathy. Some Voidwalker you are .
He hauled himself upright again, whispering with the code through green and black light. The wounds closed deeper down but remained a jarring navy on the surface. He sighed, grabbing the familiar backpack from Exano’s room, pausing in the doorway as he took in the slightly rumpled sheets. He moved to smooth them, then stopped, choosing to leave the painful, but endearing, reminder of his existence.
Xisuma folded a few sets of clothes into the pack, taking a protected map from the shelf and putting it in the side pocket. He knew his brother’s maps by heart. This one would lead him directly to an end portal if he followed it correctly. He grabbed a stack of enderpearls, tucking them into the first pocket on the utility belt he buckled on. A few more stacks went into the pack.
Finally, his hand closed upon the obsidian knife on the table. He took several deep breaths, slowly picking it up and sliding it into the empty scabbard at his left hip. It was a standard knife, the hilt studded with emeralds, so it fit perfectly. Its heavy blade felt traitorous and burdensome by his side; he resolved to get rid of it at the first chance.
Midnight , his internal clock chimed. He left the backpack by the back door, clipping his first aid kit into its place in front of his right hip. He pushed open the front door and slipped out, locking it behind him before journeying to the square. The blood pooled around the altar was mostly dry, although a few spots still shone in the dim starlight. Xisuma picked his way through the mess, tenderly laying a shaking, warm hand on his brother’s stony, ice-cold cheek.
He exhaled heavily, drawing the knife and using it to cut through the restraints binding Exano to the slab. He hefted his brother’s limp body into his arms, alarmed at the lack of weight. Then again, he realised grimly, that the weight of the blood was being left behind. That thought made him hug the body closer to his chest as he returned to the house.
They stopped in the backyard, standing in the same space they had played, trained, and laughed in. Tenderly, Xisuma laid his brother down, hands refusing to leave his body as he knelt on the rough ground. Cautiously, he reached for the code…
And pulled back sharply as his third code-scar tore itself across his chest. His vision beat in and out, alternating between shades of grey and a world of colour. He whispered to the wound, closing it until the bleeding slowed to a trickle. A dark stain now rested above his heart, turning that part of his light green t-shirt black. Tears began to flow in earnest as he begrudgingly moved away so he could speak to the code and invite it to move the endstone over the corpse.
“I’m sorry, Ex,” he whispered as he stood shakily, still processing what had happened and wiping his shirt clean with a wave to the code. “I should have done more. I could have done more… I was stupid. I hope you’ll forgive me, wherever you are.”
He returned to the house a final time, grabbing the backpack and making sure that all the doors and windows were locked. He looked back once as he strode to the edge of the island, looking at the building that had been his home for his whole life. It was just a house now. It could never be his home again. He unfurled his map as he turned his back on the village.
Twenty metres from the edge, he paused, looking toward the distant island. He glanced at the map, then back at the floating landmass. Tucking the map away again, he sprinted off the cliff into the freezing chill of the Void. He cast an enderpearl through the air with a slight distance and speed alteration, watching it arch toward the endstone as the Void began to dig its claws into his chest.
Vwomp .
He landed in a crouch on the edge of the island he’d been aiming for, breathing heavily to dispel the cold in his lungs. The air was thicker now, as his first throw had already taken him several hundred blocks toward the New End. He’d never been able to explain to the end raiders how they were able to travel that deeply into Void. Voidwalker perks. His heart gave an awkward twist as he remembered the end raider he’d been forced to interrogate.
“Hey!” He spun around sharply, drawing the knife from his belt.
“Oh, sorry!” the end raider said, brushing her hair out of her face to join her unravelling braid. “Didn’t mean ta scare ya.”
“You’re alright,” Xisuma replied, forcing himself to relax. He glared at the blade, wishing he could turn back time before it was coated with innocent blood. “I thought I’d killed you.”
“Dude, from the way you were bleeding, I thought I had killed you .”
“It’ll take more than that, I guess.” He tossed the knife into the Void, watching it shrink until it was devoured by the black abyss.
“You’re the brother, right?”
Xisuma stiffened, nodding sharply. He caught himself, forcing his muscles to relax again. “Yeah. The younger brother.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said sincerely. “They let me go right after whatever it was happened. I hope I never have to see something like that again… I’m sorry, was that too much?”
“No! No,” Xisuma said quickly, bowing his head. “I hope that never happens again, too.”
She nodded quietly, watching him fidget with his claws before he shrugged the backpack off and pulled a pair of gloves from it. “Slight change of topic,” she said quickly. “Do you know where a gateway is?”
Xisuma nodded, snapping out of his thoughts. “I was just on my way to one. It’s about fifteen hundred blocks to the northeast.”
“So… that way?” the end raider asked, gesturing vaguely in the correct direction.
“Yep. Uhm, I don’t want to be alone, so can you come with me? I mean- We can travel together if you’d like. I’ll meet you on the next island,” he finished hurriedly, trying to repair the awkwardness that permeated their conversation.
“Sure,” she replied, taking out a stack of rockets and jumping into the sky with a burst of sparks. He watched her go, then took off in a run over the stone, leaping into the Void and casting his pearl like he had before. He arrived before her again, waiting patiently in the centre of the island until she showed up.
“You’re fast,” she commented. “I thought Voidwalker teleportation was a myth!”
“It is,” he replied with a hint of a chuckle. “It’s just enderpearls.”
“You’re really good with them.”
“Thanks. My brother taught me, along with a lot of other things, like English.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Let’s keep going, okay?”
“Sure,” she replied with a shrug.
They travelled together for a few hours before arriving at the portal. Xisuma handed her a pearl when they arrived, gesturing for her to go through.
“You aren’t coming through?”
“I will, just not to the same place. I’m going to edit the code for the portal to put me somewhere different.”
“So it’s goodbye, then.”
“Yeah.”
“It was nice going with you.”
“Same here.”
“Good luck out there,” she said, tossing her pearl into the swirling portal.
“You too,” Xisuma replied to the empty air.
He sighed, then reached into the code, redirecting the portal to the Overworld. He tossed a pearl in and fell through, steeling himself for the inevitable suffocating air. It landed in his lungs like an ender dragon slamming into his chest, forcing him to take rapid, shallow breaths. He placed a hand in the coarse dirt and used it to ground himself as he whispered to the code.
The air lifted from his lungs as the atmosphere thinned, allowing him to breathe freely. He didn’t see the Admin coming until it was too late.
===
Xisuma jerked up, bashing his head against the rough pillar he was sitting against. The burning set into his skin rapidly as the water soaked into his clothing and puddled on the floor. He tried to throw himself out of the pool of agony but was kept firmly in place by the coils of rope over his chest binding him to the pillar.
His eyes were wide open as he took in the spreading red burns on his skin, smoking slightly from the arcane section of his code that caused the reaction. He tried to tear himself away again as the liquid dripped down his face toward his eyes. Xisuma shook his head aggressively, spraying water out of his hair as he tried to keep it out of his eyes. His hands were tied tightly behind the post, making him unable to swipe it away.
A cloth was thrown over him as another seemed to be clearing out the water from around him. The sudden darkness was calming, and Xisuma stilled despite the burning pain from the water searing through his body. Finally, he was able to hone his focus to assess his situation somewhat calmly.
A thick rope was wrapped over his torso and upper arms, keeping him in place with his back pinned to the post. His hands were bound uncomfortably tight behind the post, cutting off the circulation to his fingers. He tried to move them feebly, with only a small response. Thankfully, his legs were unrestricted, although his current position rendered him completely defenceless. A breathing apparatus fit snugly over his mouth and nose, diluting the thick, suffocating Overworld air that had nearly killed him earlier.
Hands ruffled his hair with the cloth, removing the water from his hair and face. The rest of his body was still blistering from the burns, although whoever it was helping him had managed to get a decent amount of the water out. He released a shuddering breath as the burning quieted and the cloth was removed from his head.
“-irritates their skin, Keralis!” a Southern voice was arguing, upset with another person in the room. “You can’t just dump water on him!”
“He needed to wake up, yes,” a different voice said, cutting off another man, “and I know you didn’t mean to hurt him, but you should have checked at the very least.”
“Sorry,” the third voice said with a thick Polish accent. It’d been a long time since Xisuma had interacted with someone with that accent, but he was able to make out the words slightly easier as his brain came around.
“How’d you know about the blanket thing, Generik?” the Southerner asked, changing the topic.
“I figured he might calm down if some stimulus was removed. Vision was the easiest.”
“It worked,” Xisuma managed to choke out, blinking away the last of the fog. “How long has it been?”
The voice belonging to Generik sighed in relief. “Glad you can understand us.” Xisuma gave a small huff of laughter. “A few hours now. I had to use some strong code to knock you out, so that was to be expected. It would have been a little bit longer if someone hadn’t decided to nearly drown you.” Xisuma could feel more than see the pointed glance Generik gave Karalis – that was his name, right?
He chose his next question carefully. Figuring it would make the most sense while giving him a clue about the world, he asked, “Where am I?” As he asked, he scanned the trio in front of him. The voice with the Southern accent matched with the man in a cyan t-shirt on the left. Generik was a grey-haired man in the centre, his leather jacket unzipped, showing his plain shirt underneath. That left the wide-eyed man on the right in the red flannel to be Keralis.
“My house on our server,” the Southerner answered. “My name’s Joe. This was the closest place we could move you to.”
Xisuma nodded, shifting against the rope. He pushed away the fresh memory of his brother in a similar position, shoving down his tears as he tried to move his hands again. “What’s all this for?” he asked bluntly, unable to avoid the question any longer.
“Safety precautions,” Generik replied. “Hard-coded to make sure you can’t access code. It’s not every day someone shows up with several code-scars. Fresh, too, from the look of things.”
To check if he was bluffing, Xisuma whispered a simple cadence to the code. He was rewarded with a sharp pain between his eyes as the code rejected his words, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut again as he waited for the spell to pass.
“Knew you’d test that out,” Generik grumbled, crouching in front of him and grabbing his chin lightly. “How’d you get those scars? You don’t look older than twenty. Pretty hard to get that many this early in your life.”
“Actually, I’m twelve,” Xisuma mumbled under his breath, still in shock.
“Oh Notch,” Generik groaned. “What’s a kid like you doing messing with the code like that?”
“The first one was forced by the elders and the second was for sympathy,” Xisuma explained. “It was selfish, I know. Besides, I’m technically an adult in our culture.”
“And the third?” Generik prompted. Xisuma frowned at his words, confused at how the scar crossing his chest was visible. “It wasn’t hard to notice from the way you reacted, even though you were unconscious.”
“Trying to bring someone back,” he admitted, averting his eyes from the Admin’s searching gaze.
“Were they a good person?”
Xisuma barely managed to nod before he choked on a sob, pulling against the restraints. “The best. I… wish I’d done more.”
Generik hesitated before reaching over to undo the rope and allow him to slump forward before moving away from the cords. He breathed shakily, his breaths loud in his ears with the added reverb from the mask. He buried his head in his hands, recoiling sharply when some of the blisters split open from the pressure.
“I’ll get cream for that,” Keralis said, excusing himself from the room.
“What’s your name, kid?” Generik asked, respectfully keeping his distance and allowing Xisuma to calm down in his own time.
“Xisuma.”
“Well, Xisuma, you won’t be going anywhere in the near future, given your current condition. Are you open to staying with Joe?”
Xisuma agreed slowly, accepting his pack from Joe and wincing as the burns came into contact with the new material. He stood shakily, accepting the hand from Joe as he found his feet. The Southerner led him to a side room, closing the door and allowing him to get out of his wet clothes in private. Keralis was waiting with the first aid supplies when he returned.
Gradually, Xisuma began to trust these new people, accepting their lessons in life as a player. They trusted him back, it seemed, as he became part of their small, close-knit group.
===
His thoughts were getting loud again. They were screaming and yelling in his head, vying for attention. He shook his head aggressively, trying to refocus on building. It worked for a few seconds before the thoughts returned, piling on louder and messier than before. Regrets, memories, and admonishments leapt on top of each other as they turned his mind into a storm.
Xisuma sat on the edge of the wall he was building, dangling his legs off the edge. He fidgeted with his hands as he tried to calm his mind, to no avail. His head was turning into a mess, a pandemonium, of pleas for mercy, of endless tears, and of replayed failures. His suit – which repelled water when it spontaneously began to rain – was suffocating and thick, halving his physical connection to the world.
He tugged off his gloves, freeing his claws to work open the latches on the top part of his helmet. He pulled that off, too, leaving only the mask over his mouth and nose that kept him breathing. The voices abated slightly as he removed the claustrophobic gear, allowing him to run his hand through his hair.
A glint of red sparked in the distance, and Xisuma straightened, narrowing his eyes at it. It reappeared barely ten blocks away, manifesting as a person – a Voidwalker – several years older than him. Xisuma’s breath caught in his throat as the red armour rendered in, exactly like his own. The eyes beneath the visor were hauntingly familiar and anguished as they met his.
“Ex…” he whispered, reaching for the figure with a shaking hand. He took a slow step forward, approaching as carefully as he dared, despite how his heart screamed for him to run to Exano. He’d never managed to get close enough to wrap his brother in his arms, but this time could be different.
“X!” A new voice cut through the air. Exano disappeared, as if he’d thrown an enderpearl into the distance and followed it in mere milliseconds.
Xisuma collapsed dejectedly on the ground, plucking a blade of grass and shredding it in his claws, his helmet and gloves in the dirt next to him. Footsteps thumped in the dirt as another person approached him from behind. He hunched his shoulders forward, his head sinking to his chest.
“… X?” the new voice asked. “Are you alright?”
“Ex…” he whispered again, his voice almost lost to his mask. The person must have heard him, though, because they sat beside him, offering him their grey-green hand.
“X, talk to me,” Cleo said gently. “What ‘s going on?”
Xisuma shook his head, burying his face in his hands and repeating the syllable over and over. His shoulders shook as he struggled to hold back his tears, fingers itching for that familiar, loving touch.
“Do you not like the nickname?”
Xisuma hesitated, then shook his head. Cleo sighed, slowly wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Neither were big on touch, but it seemed like the right thing to do. “Does it have something to do with… your life before?”
A barely perceptible nod.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“… He’s really gone, isn’t he?”
“Oh, X…”
Xisuma sniffed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He fit the helmet back over his head and pulled his gloves back on, returning to the mask of an Admin.
===
“Onward to Season Eight!” Xisuma announced, sweeping his arm toward the portal. He followed the last hermit through, whispering “Thank you” to the code as it closed behind him. The hermits were gathered around a small sinkhole in the centre of the village they had spawned in, looking down on two new players.
Xisuma’s breath caught in his throat as he recognised the girl with the mousy brown hair and black hoodie. As the hermits puzzled over the pair’s sudden appearance, Xisuma whispered to the code, asking it to show him if the players were safe. It replied positively, causing a grin to break through his facade.
“It’s okay,” he said, calming the hermits with a simple gesture. “What are your names?”
“Geminitay,” the redhead answered, nervously running her hand over her budding antlers. “Most people call me Gem.”
“PearlescentMoon,” the end raider contributed. “I go by Pearl.”
“I’m Xisuma. You can call me X if you want.” His breath hitched slightly as he resisted calling himself ‘Xi’ for the thousandth time. “How did you get here?”
Gem had been caving. When she returned to the surface, she found herself on a completely different server, with no way to contact her friends. Later, the news on her communicator announced the complete destruction of her old world, Empires. She just wanted to turn over a new leaf, no matter how short her stay was.
Pearl had been travelling in the End for years, surviving off chorus fruit as she searched for a portal out of the End. She barely said anything else beyond that, besides a faint hope that she would see a certain Voidwalker again, just to make sure he was okay. Xisuma merely nodded in response, accepting the two additions to their group.
“Mumbo, will you kick off the season?” he asked, turning to the lanky redstoner. “I need to run a few checks on the world.”
“Oh- uhm- sure!” Mumbo replied, his voice rising an octave with anxiety as Xisuma put him on the spot.
Xisuma tuned out after that, walking to an empty house in the tiny village and closing the door behind him. He whispered delicately to the code, conversing with it as he checked its lines and rhythms. As he got deeper, the lines began to twist together into confused, unfamiliar cadences.
His breath caught in his throat as he found the source of the spontaneous appearances blocking access to standard portal coding. Exano, I need you, he pleaded to the cold, ignorant universe.
===
Focus. Focus. Focus. You can do it. You worked for months on this song. You know it’ll work. Focus. Focus. Focus.
Xisuma whispered his song under his breath, feeling it take hold of the spiralling world. He felt the corrupted chunk Doc and Ren reported grind to a stop, the twisting amethyst vines slowing their growth. Through his lyrical conversation with the code, he could listen to the slowing effects of the conglomerate of code at the centre of the world, hearing it slow its movement.
He kept whispering and murmuring under his breath, straightening out more lines, untangling more knots, and dispelling more pandemonium. Time is relative, and always subject to fluctuation. Xisuma was immersed in the code, unaware of the racing seconds turning into days of constant work.
Footsteps, followed by a hand on his shoulder, startled him out of his harmonious existence in the code. “X, you need rest,” Cleo stated, somehow making eye contact through his visor. “It’s been two weeks.”
Xisuma opened and closed his mouth, confused about how so much time had passed in his fleeting conversation with the code. He settled on shaking his head in response. “The server is more bugged than any I’ve ever encountered,” he commented quietly, redirecting his gaze to the window and the light rain pattering on his pathways and window panes. “It’s dangerous, and I can’t reach the code that will allow me to move to a new world.”
“X, I’ve seen you. You’ve worked every day and night since we started six months ago,” Cleo admonished. “You hardly take breaks. You’re going to burn out.”
“I need to keep you all safe,” Xisuma refuted, crossing his arms as he continued to stare out the window. He paused for a bit, then amended, “ I need you all to be safe.”
“Why’s that? Talk to me.”
“I can’t lose anyone else,” he said hurriedly, then changed the topic. “You’ve felt the lag, the disturbance in the air. You’ve seen the odd things that pop up on the server frequently. It’s something I need to fix so everyone stays safe.”
“And we will be,” Cleo said, turning him back toward her to meet her eyes. “Just… sleep, please. Just like you need us to be safe, we need you to take care of yourself. We care about you, X.”
Xisuma gave a short laugh. “Did Joe put you up to this?”
“Maybe. It’s something I’d still do even if he hadn’t asked me. Please, X, just sleep for a few hours at least.”
“Alright.”
He went to his bedroom and lay down, tossing his communicator on the table and waiting for sleep to claim him. Cleo was moving about outside his room as his eyelids drifted shut before he could think about taking off his armour. The familiar stars and constellations of the End returned as he slipped into the realm of dreams, becoming sharply familiar before fading beyond recognition again.
Exano’s last words echoed through his head.
Be brave, little Xi. Be brave, little Xi. Be brave, little Xi.
Red eyes surrounded by pure white, beautiful skin shone brightly in the night, gazing directly at Xisuma. He couldn’t break the connection, even if he wanted to. He savoured it, trying to find a glimmer of the love and safety he had once experienced. The eyes faded, their lights dimming ever so slowly as he cried out after them, begging for them to come back. His cries turned into screams as the whole dream went black, only to start again, repeating itself in endless loops.
He was being shaken awake. He wanted to wake up, but he couldn’t open his eyes. He twitched his fingers, slowly bringing life back to his body. He sat up with an audible gasp, nearly running into Cleo as she dodged his sudden movement. He glanced around frantically as he slowed his breathing, trying to reach a space where he could process things safely.
“X, the world,” Cleo said urgently.
He wasted no time, diving into the code with acute murmuring, scanning the corruption that exploded outwards throughout the Overworld. He leapt back out of the code, picking up his communicator and skimming over the panicked messages about the approaching moon and spreading glitches.
An idea occurred to him. A wild, outlandish idea that had the potential to kill him if he managed to pull it off. He could create a Wrinkle In Time. He could bring two points in the universe together like two points in a cloth, allowing him to pass through, hopefully bringing the rest of the hermits with him.
He sent a message in chat, asking each hermit to do their best to stay in the same location. Gem and Pearl were fully hermits now, having been accepted by the whole group barely two hours into their journey together. Becoming hermits had put them fully under his protection – although he would have done the same no matter what. Tangents aside, each player responded that they would stay rooted as long as they could.
Except Tango. Bdubs brought the worrying news that Tango had shot off on a rocket to stop the moon. Xisuma’s heart hammered with worry as he constructed a new song in his mind. Quietly, he began to sing, first taking his and Cleo’s location and attaching it to a familiar island; the one where he’d met his first friend.
Xisuma felt his stomach threaten to turn inside out as he warped to the Deep End. He threw off his helmet so he could breathe freely, holding up a hand to forestall Cleo’s questions about his plan, his past, and his actions. Inhaling as much as he dared, he latched onto several hermits, bringing their points to meet him on the island, folding multiple creases in the fabric of the universe to deposit them in the centre of his island.
Doc, Ren, False, Stress, and Zedaph appeared, all in various stages of nausea as he turned back to the rest of the server. He was far enough away from the corruption that he was able to manipulate the code, smoothing it out to make the next wrinkles fold neater. Beef, xB, Hypno, Keralis, and Bdubs came next. Boatem were easy to teleport as they huddled together with TFC in Impulse’s factory.
He found Joe next, gathering him in with Iskall and Etho in tow. Cub was comforting Gem from the second they warped in, the deer hybrid panicked as her second home was destroyed. Jevin and Wels arrived together, immediately splitting off to gather the hermits closer and attend to their needs.
Xisuma fell to his knees from exertion, eyes closed as he communed with the code, searching for Tango. He finally found him, over a thousand blocks away from the world. It was the largest wrinkle yet, but with a short, slightly louder cadence, he brought the points together, allowing Tango to tumble out onto the endstone.
His astronaut suit was glitching out, switching between his regular outfit and the life-sustaining equipment. Regardless, burns littered his skin, ranging from second to third-degree injuries. A piece of shrapnel was buried in his stomach as Xisuma stabilised his code so his suit disappeared, replaced by his usual clothing.
Sound faded into the world as he came out of the code. First, he was aware of Cleo talking to him, making sure he was aware of his surroundings. Next, he noticed Pearl’s shocked expression as he removed his armour, leaving himself in a pair of tan trousers and a light green t-shirt. Finally, he heard the discourse and panic that filled the island he had truly met Pearl on for the first time.
Doc was shouting at Grian, accusing him of ruining his projects, his contraptions, his farms, and his home. He blamed the shorter hermit for the state of their corrupted world, uncaring for the way the red-sweatered hermit wilted at his words.
Gem was still hyperventilating, the weight of her home collapsing around her unrelenting on her mind. It was her second true home, a place where she belonged and fit, like a perfect piece in a complex puzzle.
Tango was nearly dead, his face ghostly white from the blood loss, his lips and fingertips tinted blue from the cold of space, and his clothes deep crimson from his flowing lifeblood. Impulse and Zedaph were at his side, trying to stop the bleeding.
Xisuma saw himself in all of them. Doc was seeking justice. Gem sought after peace and stability. Tango, Impulse, and Zedaph chased after a life that they could not save. Xisuma had felt all of that. He knew the desire. He knew the panic. He knew the hopelessness. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t try.
He began with Doc, whispering to the code and ignoring the searing pain tearing from the shoulder to the wrist of his right arm as he extended it toward the irate man. He built love from scratch, creating a fatherly affection for the younger hermit as Grian retreated further into his shell.
“I’m sorry, Grian.” Doc sighed, the shift in his mood abrupt as the code took hold. “I may be upset, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Let’s work something out together.”
Gem came next as he stretched his left hand toward her, a laceration scoring down his forearm. He soothed her, taking her panic and dispersing it across the universe. She broke down in Cub’s arms, sobbing into his coat. He couldn’t take it all away, as they were still her emotions, but he could make them bearable.
“It’s okay,” Cub and Gem whispered to each other. “Everything will be okay. You’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. We’ll all be okay.”
Finally, he turned to Tango, Impulse, and Zedaph, watching the latter two sob over their friend’s dead, broken body. He felt the deep wrenching pain wrap around his ribcage and under his shoulder, crossing his back to his hip as he knit Tango’s wound back together, removing the slice of metal with a flick of his wrist. He was barely whispering to the code now, breathing short Galactic sentences to it, breathing life back into Tango’s body.
“Everything hurts…” Tango moaned, cracking his eyes open with a slight smile. “But I’m glad to see your faces again.”
Xisuma could feel his lifeblood running down his body and pooling on the ground from the code-scars. He could vaguely hear the panic and distress of his hermits as they called for him and helped him lay on the cold, rough endstone. He could see the blurry outline of Pearl’s face as she mouthed incoherent words at him.
“Hello, old friend,” he managed with a wet cough, spitting up some of the blood infiltrating his lungs from the deepest code-scar wrapped around his torso.
He grits his teeth as he grows colder and more distant, calling a portal into existence and securing it, rapidly checking the code to ensure the new world is safe. A pair of arms hooked under his, supporting his head against their chest. The lower part of his helmet was placed back over his face as two more sets of arms picked him up, one supporting his abdomen, the other his legs.
Xisuma felt the portal close behind them as all twenty-six hermits spawned into the new world, the dawning sun shining across massive snowy peaks and glinting off the water. He blearily looked around at the grandeur as darkness crept into his vision, pulsing at the edges with each fresh wave of agony as he was moved.
Suddenly, the world was bright again as a pure white angel came down from the clouds, clean, pure white hair brushing his shoulders.
“Exano?” (“No, X! Stay with us!” the hermits cried as they realised he was leaving them.)
“Yes, little Xi,” the angel whispered, extending a hand.
“Was I good?” (“Yes, you are! We can’t lose you!” they called, fainter and farther away.)
“The best.”
Xisuma smiled, his eyes roving over the hermits gathered around him. Even Tango had managed to sit up so he could be there. Xisuma was smiling a genuine smile, just like his brother had been. He was covered in his own blood, just like his brother had been. He was with the people who loved him more than anything, just like his brother had been.
“Mask…” he barely whispered. It was lifted from his face, letting his tearful smile brighten their shadowed world more than the rising sun. “Be brave, my friends.”
Xisuma fell back into the light his brother was shining, pinning his eyes on the smiling, reaching figure. His spirit reached up and clasped his brother’s hand, and the two ascended into the heavens, leaving a smiling, lifeless body behind.