Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mumbo stared at the white walls. 

White wool, as far as the eye could see. A padded cube, ten by ten by ten, with ample room to spread his hypothetical wings. Along one wall stood the only furnishings- his bed, (on which he sat), an ender chest, and BdoubleO. 

Who was at that very moment snapping the second of Mumbo’s silver handcuffs in place around his wrist. 

“Okay, now,” Bdubs said, “Grian told me, to tell you, to not hurt yourself, okay? ‘Cause it’ll be a real pain for Skizz to fix if you rip your wrists to ribbons.”

Mumbo chuckled. 

“Yeah, no promises, mate. You know how it goes with these things.” 

“Cool, close enough.” 

Bdubs handed Mumbo the key to his manacles, and Mumbo opened the ender chest and dutifully dropped it inside. 

Bdubs sat on the chest, and he sighed. 

“You okay, mate?” Mumbo asked, and Bdubs shrugged. 

“Yeah, fine. I kinda wish I could have seen Doc off, but…Ah, well. Can’t win ‘em all.” 

Mumbo nodded. 

“Yeah. Thanks, Bdubs. Grian and I really appreciate you doing this. You didn’t have to.”

“Course I did!” Bdubs said emphatically, “You guys are my friends, of course I’m gonna help you! Not anyone’s fault Grian hates being underground, and not your fault that’s the best place for ya to ride this all out. You know who’s not afraid of underground? Ol’ Bdubs, that’s who!”

Mumbo smiled, showing his fangs a little as Bdubs thumped his chest proudly.

“Anyway, uh, yeah. Shreep tight, don’t let the silverfish bite, thump them creepers if they give ya a fright. All that good stuff.” Bdubs said. 

Mumbo nodded. 

Bdubs wiped some of the accumulated spit from around his mouth, and fished a bunch of water-filled capsules out of his pocket, popping a few in his mouth and swallowing them.

“Is it getting bad again, Bdubs?” Mumbo asked, a frown pulling at his lips.

“Yeah. I mean- yeah. It is.” Bdubs shrugged, “Water’s a little- I don’t like it.”

“Have you talked to Skizz lately?” Mumbo asked, “He can probably beat it back for you, at least a little. So you can drink water again.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll go talk to him after I’m done here,” Bdubs said, “Stupid rabies. I don’t even mind it so much, but like, the fear of water thing? Kinda gets old after awhile. Ugh.”

Mumbo nodded sympathetically. 

“I TOTALLY get where you’re coming from, dude.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You and me, we’re the only guys around here who, like, GET IT, you know?” Bdubs ate another water capsule, and waved a hand. 

“Anyway! I’m wasting time. I gotta…uh…get up top.” 

Bdubs punctuated his statement with a muffled yawn, and slapped himself in the face a few times. 

“C’mon, no getting tired. It’s not even sundown yet!” 

Mumbo chuckled, and he looked away. 

“I know the answer is no,” Mumbo said softly, “but…Bdubs. Can’t you do your ritual? You know? Bring us the sun? Let us skip all this?” 

Bdubs’ face fell. 

“Mumbo…that’s what I’m gonna go do.” Bdubs said, shoulders slumping, “I’m gonna get up there and get to my bed and spend the whole damn night trying to bring the sun back. That’s what I do….EVERY bloodmoon.” 

Mumbo nodded. 

“Thanks, Bdubs. I really- I appreciate you trying. Even if-” 

“Even if the moon don’t want to listen to me,” Bdubs said, shoulders sagging. He adjusted his moss cloak, and shrugged, “It’s the best I got. It’s…well, it’s all I got.” 

Mumbo nodded. 

“Anyway. Take care, don’t hurt yourself, see you in the morning!” Bdubs said brightly. 

He left through the two-block hole in the wall, plugging it after himself with wool and obsidian. 

Leaving Mumbo all alone with his thoughts in a barren, empty white cube. 

“So, any plans for the evenin’?” Stress said fondly, as Iskall carefully snapped the second iron chain tight around her wrist. 

“Oh, you know,” Iskall said with a big grin, “Go back to my base. Drink a lot of of coffee. Stand on my monolith. Throw rocks at stupid mobs and laugh. The usual.” 

Stress snickered. 

“Rocks, huh?” 

“Well, maybe a few flaming arrows. Whatever.” Iskall waved his organic hand dismissively. His metal hand ran carefully over the iron cuff, checking the edges of it had been filed down properly. That it wouldn’t slash Stress’ wrists open when she started thrashing against it. 

The brush of Iskall’s metal fingertips against Stress’ skin and bark prickled faintly. Like rubbing up against rough wood, like it was going to splinter. But she smiled, and ignored the sensation- because he didn’t want to hurt her, of course. 

Intent mattered with these sorts of things. 

That, and it was always a good idea to keep iron on the outside of her body. Embedded iron would sap her strength, and not in a fun way. 

“And you, Stress? Any plans for tonight?” 

“Hmm. Well, I reckon I’m gonna fall asleep, an’ then get moonstruck, lose me marbles till sunrise, an’ then pass out for realsies.” Stress said with a wry smile, “you’ll make me breakfast, yeah?” 

“You know I will.” Iskall chuckled. He reached into his inventory, eyes glazing over as his organic hand pawed at thin air, and from the ether he plucked- 

-a can of energy drink. 

“Here! To keep your strength up.” He snickered. 

Stress’ glowing eyes bugged out, and across her body, her patches of bark started to puff up with spikes. 

“Iskall, no, I ain’t lettin’ that swill inside my stomach. That’ll kill me bees!” 

Iskall snorted, and cracked the can.  Iskall smiled, and traded the can from fleshy fingers to metal ones with a clank. 

“Oh well. More for me.” He snickered, and took a sip. 

Stress wrinkled her nose.

“Just ‘cause you got a heart made of metal, doesn’t mean you should overtax it like that,” Stress sighed, and he shrugged. 

“Well, not like I got a whole lot of choice. I’m gonna be up all night, you know. Besides,” Iskall said, suppressing a yawn, “I’m kind of tired.” 

“You are?” Stress frowned. 

“Yeah, but it’s probably nothing.” Iskall waved his hand, “Like, I didn’t sleep too well last night, probably. Something like that.”  

“Yeah,” Stress sighed. 

And from under her chest, a furious buzz indicated that her bees didn’t approve either.

Iskall sat down on the bed next to her, the mattress dipping, and the two of them stared at the door. Stress leaned over, letting her head (and horns) rest on his shoulder. 

“I hate this.” she said softly, “I really do.” 

“I’m sorry, Stress.” Iskall said, “If there was a safer way to do this, without the chains, we totally-” 

“It’s not the chains. It’s just- it’s all of this. I don’t like- losing meself. Knowing I just- I black out, an’ I could go and do who knows what. I don’t...” Stress shuddered. 

Iskall put an arm around her shoulder. 

“Yeah. I…I get it.” he said quietly, and Stress nodded. 

“I wish we could just remove these moons, you know? But…” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry Stress.” 

Iskall suppressed half a yawn, and then took another hearty swig from his can of energy drink. And then, impulsively, he turned and planted a quick peck on her forehead. 

“You should go if you’re already gettin’ tired. I’ll be here.” Stress sighed, giving Iskall a fond pat. 

He stood up, then, nodding at her. 

“Sleep tight, Stress. I’ll come let you out as soon as the sun rises.” 

“I will. And you look after yourself, yeah! And- your cats! No lettin’ them get killed by skeletons, you hear?” Stress folded her arms, and her bees buzzed aggressively. 

Iskall put a hand over his chest, his one eye wide and innocent. 

“Oh, of course. I’ll…totally look after my cats,” he nodded, “One hundred percent. That’s a promise. Yep.” 

Stress smiled. 

“‘Cause if your cats die, you’ll be heartbroken! An’ I’ll have to get you lots an’ lots of new cats to replace ‘em!” She said cheerfully, followed by an accompanying buzz from the hive under her shirt. 

Iskall’s eyes bugged out, and Stress laughed, the flowers growing out of her wooden horns shaking as she did. 

“I. Uh. I gotta. Go. And. Take care of something. Yeah!” He said, “Look, Stress, I’ll come get you in the morning, okay?” 

Stress snickered, and waved at Iskall. 

He sealed the obsidian box up behind him, and she sighed and tucked herself into bed. Her enderchest hummed ominously at the foot of the bed, and Stress smiled. 

She closed her eyes and waited for the tiredness to take her. 

Though…it was kind of odd. She should have been yawning during that conversation with Iskall, and yet…

…why did she feel so wide-awake?

<Docm77> Ren is in lockup over the ocean. I will be retiring to my base. Do not bother me until daybreak if you value your life. 

<iJevin> Ditto and ditto. 

<Tango> Same on all counts. You don’t wanna get roasted, don’t talk to me. 

<Zombiecleo> That makes five of us. Bother me and get bit, you know the drill by now. 

<Xisuma> Cub, Scar?

<Cubfan135> we’re in position, give us a sec. Don’t bother us till sunup.

<GoodtimewithScar> unless you want a really unpleasant surprise :J

The chain was made of gold. Heavy and soft, for any other hermit a gold chain would have been an impractical and annoying wrist obstruction until they found a way to bend their way free. 

For Impulse, though? 

As the gold chain snapped tight around his wrist, he felt the strength leach from his arms, felt his human disguise shift into something more…oppressive. Instead of being a comfy skin he wore like a beloved warm hoodie, he felt suffocating and cloying. Like that same comfortable hoodie, but worn in direct sunlight in the middle of a desert. 

He was cooking alive, in other words. 

Impulse fanned his wings and sighed, eyes looking up at Zed mournfully. 

“This really sucks.” he said, and Zed smiled and nodded. 

“Sorry, Impulse.” 

“Yeah, sorry dude,” Tango said as he carefully locked the chain around Impulse’s other wrist, “Like, I’m sure if he could, Bdubs would just love to bend time so we never have to see this, but-” 

“The all-consuming power of Bdubs pales in comparison to the power of a large orbiting rock wearing edgy makeup. Yeah, I know.” Impulse groused.  

“If it’s any consolation, I’m also gonna be a bit of a mess,” Tango said, a soft smile on his face, “I mean, raging around guarding my base burning anything in sight, but-”

“But you don’t go on the attack,” Impulse countered, “You just…you know. Hang around and guard your ‘fortress.’ I…I go off on a tear, and…”

“Okay, now both of you, stop it.” Zed said firmly, folding his arms, “It is what it is, alright? It’s not fair, but then life isn’t fair. So don’t blame yourselves. Alright?” 

“I wasn’t blaming myself,” Tango countered, “I was bitching. There’s a difference!”

Zed snorted. 

“Alright, well, as long as you two are just having a whinge, that’s alright then.” 

Zedaph suppressed a yawn, and blinked a few times. 

Impulse frowned. 

“Zed? You good?” 

“I’m just kinda…tired,” Zed said, “It’s been a long day, though. I’ve been staying up too late this week, I think.” 

Tango rolled his eyes. 

“Zed, you GOTTA start taking care of yourself!” 

“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Tango ‘wiring Decked Out ‘till 3AM’ Tek!” 

Impulse burst out laughing. 

“Man. Guys. I don’t even know what I’d do without you…” he said fondly. 

He looked into Zed’s eyes, his soft human eyes, and then over at Tango, deep into the blaze-red fires. 

And he shook his head. 

“Alright, key me, and you two get out of here.” 

Tango handed over the golden key, and Impulse dropped it in his ender chest. 

And with a wave from Zed and a smile from Tango, they left through the two block hole in the side of his prison cube, patching it up behind themselves. 

Impulse laid down on the bed on his front, flicking his tail with a sigh. 

Nothing for it but to wait. 

xB flicked his tail, watching as Cub laid out the last lines of the magic circle in salt. Scar’s legchair hopped from candle to candle as he lit the tall columns of wax, and xB twiddled one of the barbels in his beard. 

xB was a sturgeon hybrid, after all, so none of this was his concern. 

The underground cavern was cold, but as the magic circle came to life, the air grew several degrees warmer. Blue light charged with Vex magic illuminated the gloomy cave, and xB stared into the complex network of lines and sigils that Cub had painstakingly laid out on the ground. 

His Vex wings glowed blue, comically small and tattered things emerging from his back. Next to him, Scar’s own wings glowed too, and the two Hermits had maws full of sharp, scary teeth. 

“So, that’s done it?” xB said, and Cub nodded. 

“Yep. Now all we gotta do is get me and Scar in there, and I’ll turn it on. You leave, we pass out. Come get us at sunup, and if you don’t, well, the candles’ll burn down and let us go anyway.” Cub said with a shrug.

“Oh, I’ll come get you guys.” xB nodded, “No doubt about that. Not leaving you in suspended animation for any longer than it takes.” 

Cub smiled. 

He stepped through the circle, and Scar’s legchair delicately hopped through a second later. 

The blue light bent around them, and as soon as they were inside, xB crouched down by the final candle, connected to the ring with a thin tendril of magic. 

Cub picked up Scar, helping him out of his legchair, and carefully laid him on the ground of the sigil. The chair itself helpfully sat on the ground, patiently waiting for Scar to get back in it. 

The man himself smiled, folding his arms over his chest in an X shape, and closed his eyes. 

“Comfy?” xB asked, and Scar nodded. 

“Yep. Ready to drift off to my, uh, unnatural snooze.” He giggled.

“Bit of a shame we can’t just do this to everyone else,” xB said idly, playing with his lighter, “But-”

“But it’s extremely dangerous?” Cub said, “C’mon man, we’ve been over this. This sigil is super-precise to Vex-type stuff. We start sticking anyone else besides us two in here, they might never wake up. May as well just drug everyone if that’s what you’re after.” 

“Yeah, fair,” xB sighed, “Oh well.” 

Cub laid down next to Scar, his head pointing the other way. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. 

“Besides, this is actually pretty comfy,” Cub said cheerfully, “This is basically how Vex keep their Evokers when they aren’t needed. We just, uh-” 

“Stabbed our middleman a few times.” Scar said brightly. 

“Alright. So, nothing pinched, nothing uncomfortable?” xB asked, and Scar and Cub both nodded. 

“Hit it!” Cub said. 

xB lit the final candle, and Cub and Scar closed their eyes. 

The circle blazed with power, and the two of them fell silent as sleep claimed them. 

xB stood up, and walked away from the sigil. 

It always felt a bit scummy putting them under like that, which was why he’d drawn the short straw. But…well. 

Vex could phase through blocks. 

Zedaph sighed, leaning against the wall of his base. Beside him, Skizz, who looked a little uneasy. 

“Dude, I gotta wonder,” Skizz said, “Why…like, why. Why does this keep happening? Who even allowed bloodmoons to be a thing? Was it the devs? Because this is a seriously sick joke, if that’s the case.” 

Zed shrugged, and stretched his muscles, blinking a few times. 

“I dunno. It’s just sort of…a thing? A thing we gotta deal with. It’s not really fair, but at least Joe can predict it ahead of time, so. No big deal.” 

“I guess.” Skizz sighed, “I just…I don’t like the idea of my best friend being reduced to a mindless husk.” 

Zed shook his head. 

“They’re…not mindless,” He said softly, “They never are. I- you know, before we got the early warning system, before we all agreed that this’d be for the best…it was…” 

He waved a hand. 

“They’re not mindless. More…confused? I guess confused is the best way to put it. I mean, hybrids don’t go bonkers during a bloodmoon, they just get…aggressive.” 

“But monsters do go bonkers.” Skizz said miserably. The shine of his halo dimmed slightly, and he fluffed up his wings. 

There was a pause. 

“Zed, buddy. You want some help with that hangnail?” 

Zedaph burst out laughing, even as his eyes started to sag. 

“Yeah, sure. Heal me, Skizz. Go on, it’ll cheer you up!” Zed smiled, offering his hand.

Skizz took Zed’s hand. Zedaph could feel the artificial warmth- Skizz felt like a heating pad, and his hand was a little bit heavier than a hand should properly be. 

“Be Well.” Skizz commanded, the two words echoing through the air. Warm shivers rattled up Zed’s spine and resonated through his body, like he was a bell that had been struck. His fingernail went warm, and then cooled down- as Skizz’s power wiped away the hangnail and the lingering infection in Zed’s nail bed. 

“There we go. All better.” Skizz said with a smile. 

“And now my hand doesn’t hurt! Thanks mate, that’s brilliant.” Zed said brightly. 

Skizz shook his head. 

“You’re just lucky I don’t hurt you when I do that. Aren’t you borderline undead?”

Zed waved a hand. 

“Only when I decide to be. And only with a scythe in my hand. Otherwise, nope! Just as alive as the rest of us.”

Skizz sighed. 

“Yeah. You know, I tried to heal Bdubs yesterday…” 

Zed nodded sympathetically. 

“It didn’t work?” 

“Of course it didn’t!” Skizz groaned, “Like, dude, I don’t get it. Rabies isn’t SUPPOSED to be a long-term thing! It’s just in, symptoms, dead! But with Bdubs, he’s got rabies, and no matter what I do- I can’t cure it! How it hasn’t killed him yet is beyond me, seriously.” 

Zed shrugged. 

“Probably worth dropping it, then. I mean, you’ll just stress yourself out.” 

Skizz nodded. 

“Yeah. That…yeah. It sucks, but I guess…I guess I just have to…” 

“Give up?” Zed countered, “Skizz. Would you try and cure the zombie out of Cleo?” 

“No, that’d kill- ohhhhh. Oh, okay. Okay, Zeddy-bop. I’m picking up what you’re putting down.” Skizz tapped the side of his head, “Alright, I’ll give it a rest.” 

Zed nodded proudly. 

“See? Cutting your losses. Not a bad plan.” 

The sky overhead was growing darker, and Skizz looked up and sighed. 

“I guess I should…probably get going. Do we gotta worry about the mobs?” 

“Not really.” Zed said, “If you’re scared, dig down two blocks and play tetris on your comm until morning. I mean, even if the worst happens and Impulse gets out, I can take care of it.” 

Skizz smiled. 

“Thanks, Zed.” 

And he spread his wings, and flew out of Zed’s ravine. 

As soon as he was gone, Zed…yawned. 

And then he yawned again. 

“Mmmmfg…Why am I so tired?” he mumbled, stumbling his way down the ravine and into his cave.

Towards his bed. 

He flopped into it, shoes still on. 

“Maybe I just…rest m’eyes a few…” Zed mumbled, eyes sagging closed. 

They slammed shut, and Zed’s breathing evened out.  

And on Zedaph’s neglected comm, a message buzzed. 

<The Blood Moon is rising…>

Chapter Text

Impulse drummed his fingers against his chest, brow furrowed. 

Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong. 

His comm had buzzed the message, and he could still, uh, read said message? Like, in English, and everything. He could still use his comm. He could still comprehend his comm. 

Impulse checked his messages again. Yep, there it was, plain as day. 

<The Blood Moon is rising…>

Okay, so maybe it didn’t increase spawns in caves. But it still- it still should have got to him. He still should have been feeling it, those first effects of moonrise across the world. It hit Demons doubly hard, the bloodmoon erasing all memory of what they did under its hateful glare. 

And…

…he felt completely fine. 

Impulse swallowed. It had been at least ten minutes. There was no way…

…No way he was this fine.

But…he was still in his human guise? Normally by now he’d have been forcibly shunted into his true form and then blacked out, and come to in a destroyed obsidian box spattered with pus and bile. 

…and he was still able to reason his way through the situation at hand. 

Impulse sat up in bed nervously, giving his tail a flick. He everted a few of his spikes, and noisly reshuffled his wings. This wasn’t good. This…this didn’t feel right at all. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. 

But…if he tried to leave…if he tried to leave, and then the moon got to him…

…But why hadn’t it already? 

He swallowed, standing up and letting the chains around his wrists rattle as he paced back and forth. 

Finally, he sent a message. 

<ImpulseSV> uh is. Anyone else still awake?

A minute later, another message. 

<Stressmonster101> yeah I’m fine??? I dunno whats appenin 

<MumboJumbo> will confirm. Feeling fine. Not sure why. 

<Rendog> yeah I’m good too???

Impulse swallowed. 

<ImpulseSV> Skizz? Skizz, buddy, talk to me. You good? 

He tabbed over to the player list, and noticed something…odd. 

For a start, Skizz’s icon was greyed out- indicating he’d gone AFK. But going AFK during a bloodmoon was…suicidal? What was Skizz DOING? 

Impulse clutched at his head, and then he noticed the second thing. 

There was a little colour patch next to every Hermit’s name, showing their availability, or if they were up for talking that day. 

And Zed’s patch was a deep blood red. 

Impulse opened his mouth. His throat felt dry. 

Because that shade of red wasn’t a colour in the system. 

He scrolled down. 

False was red. Iskall was red. Grian was Red. Hypno was red. Keralis was red. Xisuma was red…

<ImpulseSV> guys I think. I think something’s wrong

<ImpulseSV> I think we need to leave 

<ImpulseSV> Doc. Cleo. Tango. Jev. say something? 

And he got no response. 

Impulse sat back, feeling something cold and frightful twisting in his stomach. If he- if he broke out, and the moon took him, he was- he was going to kill everyone and everything. He was going to- 

But that red patch next to Zed’s name was staring back at him hatefully. He hadn’t fallen yet, but-

-Diseases could incubate for a long time before they struck. 

Impulse started to pace, letting the chains rattle against the floor as his mind churned. 

Diseases needed time to incubate, that was true. But some, like Shingles, took decades to come out of the woodwork. Some took…decades…

…and Skizz was a hermit now. If he lost it, if he went on a rampage…Skizz could stop him. Skizz would stop him. 

He opened his private chat and sent a message. 

<ImpulseSV> Skizz. Buddy. I’m about to do something stupid. If I- if I lose control of myself, I need you to heal me until I stop. Okay?

He got no response. 

Skizz was still AFK. 

Impulse swallowed. 

Skizz was going to get seriously hurt if he stayed AFK…

And that rather made up his mind. He kicked open his ender chest, and pulled out the golden key in the bottom, lost between the shulkerboxes. One cuff fell away, and then the other, and Impulse tossed the key on the ground. He reached down for his gear shulker. Armour and weapons would be nice, after all. Impulse's hands grabbed the side of the shulker-

-it refused to move. He frowned, and tried to pry it open. That was no good, either. The shulkerbox was glued to the bottom of the chest, and it wouldn't open up.

He scowled. More of the moon's nonsense.

There were a few loose items he had in his enderchest, and thankfully one of them was an unenchanted diamond pickaxe.

Holding it in his hands, unconnected from the hotbar, was a strange feeling. The pick felt uncomfortable and heavy, as though it didn't want to do this either. Impulse got the strong impression he should probably toss the thing aside.

But for the moment, it was needed. He gripped the pick tight, and marched up to the nearest wall. 

The wool took some punching to break, and then the obsidian some more. And then a layer of gold blocks, which made his skin prickle. Always made running gold farms a bit of a dicey prospect and gave him hives, but there was nothing to be done.  

And then- 

He tore through a layer of copper (installed for its antiseptic properties), and through the final layer of obsidian- 

And through the wall, he could see an ocean beyond. 

And the cold red light of the moon bathing everything. 

Impulse’s wings trembled, and he took a nervous step forward. 

Out into the moonlight.

Stress screamed, and landed on the ground with a splash. She’d had a water bucket loose in her enderchest, and thankfully had managed to hit the MLG. Just barely, but all that practice in Vault Hunters was finally paying some dividends. 

She was drenched, standing on the grass, hands shaking and wrists covered in small sores from being in contact with the iron chains. 

Stress swallowed. 

On all sides, the trees rattled with the hisses and groans of moonstruck mobs, spawning in their hundreds. And here she was, under the moonlight, like a complete moron. Stress craned her neck up. This was it. This was the moment she went off on one and started hunting down her friends in cold blood for their crimes against nature. 

And the blood moon stared back at her like a giant red eye. Watching her. Judging her. 

But she-

-Hold on. She was loose, and bathed in its light, so-

“One plus one is- two.” Stress said aloud, “hold on, wait, I can still do maths? Wait, wait- uhhh— blocks stack to sixty-four…a greenhouse is made of glass- Hold on. I think the moon’s broken.” 

It should have been impossible for her to so much as count, let alone add two numbers together, in the direct light of the moon. Actually, Stress was in awe that she could even think at all, let alone staying conscious enough to have thoughts.

And the moon glared at her hatefully, as if it was fuming that she was able to defy its will. 

And Stress-

Her face split into a wide grin, and she did a little twirl, the shirt and pants she’d changed into fluttering in the breeze. Her bees all buzzed in delight, flowers glowing under the moonlight. 

“I think the moon’s BROKEN!” Stress said, “I’m okay! I reckon we’re all okay! It’s gonna be okay! I’m gonna go find Iskall, an’ tell ‘im I’m okay. God, that’ll be nice! No more being chained to a wall once every six months, eh?” 

Her bees buzzed in agreement. 

“Well of course you lot would agree,” Stress said, poking her torso, “Yes-men, the lot of ya! Well, Yes-Gals- well- You get what I mean!” 

She craned her neck up at the moon, and laughed. She didn’t look directly at it- Stress knew better than that. 

“An’ you can stuff it up yer craters, for one! Look at me, standin’ under your miserable light, an’ I’m thinkin’ an’ talkin’! How d’you like them apples, huh?” 

The moon seethed in silent fury. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Stress said smugly, and she snapped her fingers. A few of her bees crawled out from holes in the bark of her arm and took flight, going to scope the place out and find out if it was safe. 

And with her good fortune, she held up her comm, intending to send a message to the Hermits. To share the news that everyone was at last safe from the moon’s cruel tyranny, and they could all come out now. 

And she snarled in frustration.

“Oh, great.” Stress snapped, wheeling around and jabbing a wooden claw at the moon, “YOU BASTARD! THAT’S CHEATING! YOU’VE BROKEN ME BLOODY COMM!” 

She turned her attention back to the device strapped to her wrist and started tabbing up and down through the countless messages. Messages that had been reduced to so much inane gibberish: 

<Xisuma> bXkgaGVhZCBodXJ0cyA=

“Oh, well, that’s just great. The moon’s gave us all our minds back but taken our comms. Fine, whatever, that’s a fair trade, I guess.” Stress sighed. 

She lifted the hand holding up her pick, and went to stuff it into her inventory. Unfocused her eyes, stuck her arm forward- 

-and Stress’s arm just thrust forward against useless, empty air. She frowned, and waved her hand at the air again. Come on, where the hell was her inventory? She’d been able to get into her ender chest, and now there wasn’t an inventory to put things in?

The shulker boxes in her ender chest had been clammed shut too. And now this. Great.  

Stress scowled, glancing up in the moon’s direction hatefully. 

“Now that’s just not fair,” Stress muttered, glaring at the red corona and making very sure to not stare at the moon itself. 

She sighed, and looked at her pick, and then at the nearest tree. Stress sank it into the wood, and she started walking. 

No sense lugging it around. 

They’d built her containment cube over a forest near the Neighborhood- just south of False’s base. Which meant she was just a hop, skip, and a jump from being home. She’d probably just grab Iskall and keep working on her projects, or perhaps lighting the Neightborhood up a bit more. 

Oddly, the mobs were leaving her alone as she trekked- she watched a skeleton jump out of her path, and then a few zombies. Almost like they were afraid. 

Stress shrugged. Weird. 

And then a twig snapped. 

Behind her. She spun, eyes wide, already lengthening her claws, ready to fight off whatever mob had decided it was a good idea to tangle with her. 

And- 

What she saw instead were two glowing red eyes. 

A pinpoint of red light in the middle of the pupil, and two red triangles, glowing radioactively out of the whites of both eyes. Only the iris was totally unaffected, and Stress took a step back in fright. 

False stepped out of the gloom and stared at her, tilting her head. She frowned slightly, eyes narrowing and darting all over Stress’s- everything. Her face slowly shifted into a frown, and then dismay and Revulsion. False gripped the hilt of her sword tighter, holding it defensively. Every muscle was trembling as she looked Stress over from top to bottom. 

False took a step back. 

“Falsie?” Stress said nervously, taking a step back, “Falsie, you got somethin’ wrong with your eyes. Listen, I-” 

And then False spoke. She spoke, and she said- 

“∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ╎ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ? ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ↸╎↸ ||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹 ℸ ̣𝙹 ᓭℸ ̣∷ᒷᓭᓭ?!”

False’s mouth was moving, sure, and those definitely looked like the right sort of movements for English. But the second the words left her lips, they- twisted, transmuted into something they weren’t, and then Stress was just listening to the audio equivalent of static. 

It sounded like an iron knife being gently dragged across her cheek. 

“Moonstruck,” Stress whispered in cold, dawning horror, “the moon’s not supposed to-” 

“⍑ᒷꖎ!¡! ╎ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹∷ᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ ⎓ᔑᓵᒷ 𝙹⎓⎓!" False shouted- 

And all around her, shouting echoed through the forest, and Stress screamed as False pulled out a bow and fired an arrow straight at her.

She turned, and she RAN. 

Chapter Text

Impulse flew.

He flew as hard and as fast as he could, flapping his wings with heavy strokes. The wind ruffled through his hair, whistling off his horns, as his tail slashed to keep balance and steer.

The red light of the moon bathed his back, making his countless yellow pustules appear almost orange. He banked down- 

And landed at Tango’s base, folding them and taking a deep breath. 

“TANGO!” Impulse shouted, “TANGO, BUDDY, YOU THERE?!” 

Because, well. It stood to reason that Tango would still be fine, right? If he was fine, then Tango had to be fine. And if Tango was fine, then- well- 

-then Tango could probably help him fix his comm. 

The noise didn’t go unnoticed, and Impulse sighed as he saw Tango approaching. The man’s eyes were as red as ever, and Tango frowned as he got closer and closer. 

Impulse sighed. 

“Tango! Dude, okay, am I ever glad to see you. Do you know where Skizz is? I’ve been looking everywhere for him.” 

Tango blinked once. 

And again. 

He looked- 

-confused? 

And then Tango swallowed, and opened his mouth, and-

“Txafwdp? Zs, yz. Sl sl, cplwwj qfyyj. Nly hp awpldp mp dpctzfd?”

Impulse blinked. 

“Wha- is that- that’s not English,” He said slowly.

Tango frowned and waved his hands around frantically. 

“Nly jzf awpldp deza uzvtyr lczfyo? Dpctzfdwj! Xj nzxx’d mczvpy! Te zywj epwwd esp etxp lyo esle’d te!”

And they both stared at each other. 

Impulse ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. 

“Oooooookayyyyy,” he said slowly, “So, you can’t speak English right now? Is that what’s happening?” 

Tango buried his face in his asbestos gloves. 

“Lyo jzf’cp yze oztyr estd zy afcazdp, lcp jzf? Rcple.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry man. I have no idea what you’re saying.” Impulse said awkwardly. 

“D btj Stjh.” Tango muttered under his breath. 

Impulse swallowed, and looked around. There was a birch tree nearby, and inspiration struck. He gestured for Tango to follow, and immediately put claw to bark. 

Carefully, Impulse scratched a picture into the bark. His face, all cute with his fanged maw and horns, and a little speech bubble with the word “Hi” in it. And then he drew Tango, a circle with pointed ears and spikey hair, and drew a second speech bubble full of scribbles. 

Impulse pointed at his drawing, and Tango nodded once, slowly. 

Tango tapped on the scribble bubble, and then pointed at Impulse’s bubble. 

Impulse groaned into his palm. 

“So am I moonstruck,” he said flatly, “or are YOU moonstruck?”

“T ozy’e vyzh.” Tango said.

 They both stared at each other. 

“I really wish I knew what you were saying right now.”

“T htds jzf’o deza daplvtyr pynslyetyr elmwp.”

Impulse shook his head, and started to pace. Tango  immediately started to pace back and forth with him, copying Impulse’s pose. 

“Now, let’s think. If I’m sane enough to even stand here having this conversation…”

“Estd ozpdy’e xlvp dpydp. T nly estyv, lyo JZF nly estyv.”

“And that means neither of us are moonstruck, because we can think straight.”

“Dz szwo zy, tq hp nly mzes estyv, espy...td pgpcjzyp qtyp?”

“And that means…either nobody’s moonstruck, or…” 

Impulse stopped dead, and swallowed. Tango had also frozen in place. 

Impulse watched as his friend walked back over to the birch tree, picked up a rock off the ground, and scribbled a picture on the bark. He pointed, and Impulse nodded. 

Because Tango had drawn a picture of what was very likely Zed. 

Impulse flared his wings. 

“We need to check on Zed.” he said softly. 

Tango nodded. 

“Hp yppo ez qtyo Kpo. Hp yppo ez xlvp dfcp sp’d zvlj. Mpnlfdp sp nzfwo vtww lww zq fd tq sp’d rzyp xlo.”

Impulse nodded. 

“I don’t need a translator for that one. We’re in deep, deep trouble if Zed goes on a rampage.” Impulse said, “But that’s not how…that’s not how any of this works. That’s not how bloodmoons WORK. Humans are safe…humans…” 

A twig snapped behind them, and both Hermits shared a look. 

And they set off deeper into the woods. 

The first thing Mumbo saw on emerging from his cave was the moon. 

It wasn’t exactly his fault. The mouth of the cave was pointing directly at the moon, and it was huge, occupying a massive chunk of the sky. Almost like when the moon was big, but somehow even more oppressive. It was hard to avoid looking at the damn thing. 

And what a sight. 

Red as blood, staring down at him like a hateful eye. It made his mouth water, thinking of blood- it made his mind wander, too, and Mumbo gasped. 

He’d looked at the moon. Just for a second, but he’d still looked at it. 

He tore his eyes away, shielding them with a hand, and he smacked himself in the face. Idiot! Stupid! 

He was gonna pay for that screwup. 

Mumbo looked up at the sky, carefully keeping his eyes away from the moon. He needed to find the others, and that meant…well. 

That meant flying. 

Mumbo didn’t often use his wings. 

He had them, of course he did. But he usually preferred elytra, because elytra could be counted on to stay in one place. Elytra also didn’t spoil his carefully-crafted, carefully-maintained look. 

Unfortunately, Elytra were one of the many things that didn’t work during a bloodmoon. If you couldn’t fly naturally, you couldn’t take to the air until the sun finally rose again. 

And while he could naturally fly, Mumbo was a man of composure, and anything that messed up his three-piece suits or ruffled his moustache was…unwelcome. The other slight issue with his wings was that he had to force-grow them. 

He screamed as the wings tore out of his back, bursting into the moonlight as he knelt on the ground. It hurt- it physically hurt as his skeleton twisted, as his muscles rearranged themselves under his skin, as the flesh bent itself to his whim. 

Mumbo whimpered. This was completely spoiling the lines his tailor had worked so hard to perfect. 

He stood up, blinking the stars out of his eyes, and glanced over his shoulder, flexing one wing and then the other. 

Yep. Pale, flesh-toned fins of twisted skin, like a bat’s wing made from a warped human hand. The skin between his wing-fingers was snaked full of veins and blood vessels. They looked…

…well, he looked like a predator on the hunt. And when his wings grew, the vampire inside him perked up and took notice.

Mumbo folded his wings and wrapped his arms around himself. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said softly, closing his eyes, “It’s totally alright. See? I’m standing under the moonlight, and I’m fine. Totally, totally fine. So, I just- go and find- everyone. Tell them I’m okay. Tell them…and…” 

He shook his head, straightening up and spreading his wings. 

Mumbo crouched- 

And threw himself into the air. 

He flapped heavily, huge wings lifting his heavy body into the air. He wasn’t a natural in the sky like Grian or Impulse, say; so when he did take to the air, he tended to be quite clumsy. 

Mumbo flew, higher and higher, until he was soaring over the treetops, flying away from the cave entrance he’d clawed his way out of. His subterranean prison was meant to be hard to escape, with a mazelike cave system attatched; but fortunately, he had the presence of mind to follow the glow lichen to the surface. 

Mumbo flapped, and for a moment, he caught himself enjoying it. The rush of air over his wings, through his hair, through his suit. He was flying, really properly flying. 

But it would be gone by daybreak, of course. His wings would drip off his back like candle wax the second the sun found him, and then he’d be back to normal old Mumbo. 

But. For just a moment- 

-For just a moment, he was airborne, flying, feeling the wind under his own wings, buoyed up by their might. 

Doc had offered to make him a pair of cybernetic wings. Ones that would work in the sun. 

And on nights like this, Mumbo wondered, idly, if it was finally time to take Doc up on his offer. 

He shook the idle daydreams out of his head, and turned his attention to the ground, scanning the earth below. There had to be some hermits down there, somewhere. He banked left, heading towards his base. Maybe if he grabbed his tools…?

He didn’t have an inventory anymore, and shulkerboxes were a no go, but maybe if he had some loose tools lying around, they’d still work?

He saw movement far below, and Mumbo smiled and waved. That indistinct smear down there looked like X and Gem, if he had to guess. Both staring up at him. 

Gem jabbed a finger up at Mumbo and stumbled. Xisuma jumped back, in terror, staring at Mumbo. 

They both screamed. 

Mumbo frowned. He wasn’t THAT scary, was he? They’d seen his wings before…

Xisuma was holding something in his hands, which was a little odd. But surely- 

He swooped down low, towards Xisuma. Xisuma would help. Xisuma would-

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Mumbo screamed as buckshot tore through his left wing, leaving a gaping, bloody hole in the membrane. He barely had time to think, though, because X was clearly reloading for another round- 

He spun in the air, racking his brains frantically for all those flying lessons Impulse had given him- Grian’s flying tips never worked, their wings were too different- 

Mumbo somehow had the presence of mind to pivot, and he started flapping as hard as he could, flying away as hard as he could. Gunfire split the air behind him, falling short as he gained more and more altitude- 

And only then did the tears start to well up in his eyes. 

Xisuma had just shot him.

He needed to find- someone. Anyone. Mumbo opened his comm. Maybe he should just…leave? Maybe he should just leave, and never come back- 

And then he realized, with cold, coiling horror, that he couldn’t read any of the text on his comm. All of it was horrifically garbled- he couldn’t even find the button to quit the game. Not that it mattered- what little text was present gave him the idea that the ‘leave game’ button was greyed out. 

He was trapped. 

Mumbo snapped his head up, and barely avoided braining himself on Iskall’s monument. He’d flown so far he’d ended up in the Neighborhood. 

Mumbo flapped up, and landed on top of the monolith. He breathed out, and looked over at his wing. The membrane was torn and bleeding, but he’d live. It just made him unbalanced in the air, and hurt like all hell. But that…didn’t really matter. 

They’d be gone come daybreak. 

He swallowed, and took flight again. Because to the south of Iskall’s base was Stress’s containment cube, and hopefully- hopefully-

He flew, as hard as he could. Because Stress might be there, and she might know why Xisuma had shot him. 

Mumbo swooped low over the treetops, until he caught sight of movement in the woods. He landed on top of the nearest tree. 

“Stress!” Mumbo shouted. 

What stepped out of the forest was not Stress. 

It was Bdubs. 

He craned his neck up to stare at Mumbo. Deep in the depths of his pupils, two pinpricks of red light glowed out of nothing. 

Bdubs stared at him, his face the picture of shock. He stumbled a few steps back, shouting something incoherent and panicked, and tripping over his own feet in terror. 

Mumbo swallowed, his undead heart hammering up to ten beats a minute. 

Because Bdubs wasn’t alone. 

Light, so bright it burned at his eyes, floated up behind him. It looked like the sun had momentarily returned, in one localized area. 

Mumbo swallowed. 

Seven golden rings orbited a glowing gold-blue soul, nested inside those concentric wheels. From the wheels, dozens of soft white wings grew, flapping and spinning the wheels they were attatched to. And every ring was studded with hundreds of eyes, eyes that should have shone every colour of the rainbow. Eyes that were entirely red. 

Those hundreds of eyes locked onto him, and Mumbo quailed. 

“Skizz!” he shouted, “Skizz, buddy, it’s me! It’s me! Snap out of it!” 

Skizz blinked. A great, rolling wave across his hundreds of red eyes, and then- 

In a perfectly flat monotone, a voice that rang through the air like Skizz was striking a bell, the angel spoke. 

“You are sick. You will be well.” 

Mumbo screamed and leapt into the air, flying as hard and as fast as he could. 

Because, of course. 

Healing a vampire meant burning them alive. 

Chapter Text

An hour later, and Tango was pacing back and forth. He’d found a clearing, and by the grace of god (or maybe just Impulse) the others were making their way over. 

Mumbo flapped into a landing, bleeding from the wing, and Tango winced and rushed over. 

“You okay, dude?” he asked, and Mumbo-

“Zs, mctwwtlye. Jzf’cp elwvtyr yzydpydp ezz.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

Tango facepalmed. 

“Awesome. Well, I guess that means we’re gonna be drawing our way through this…” 

Tango continued pacing, as Impulse flapped into the clearing, landing on the ground with a heavy THUD. 

“Impy! Any luck? Wait, why am I asking, you can’t-”

“Detww elwvtyr yzydpydp, ofop.” Impulse shrugged. 

Tango sighed. 

As the last few Hermit trickled in, he did a quick headcount. Cleo and Jevin were bickering with each other, somehow, across a language barrier. A rather distraught Doc was wringing his hands and looking around. Ren had turned up, soaking wet. Impulse, obviously. Stress wandered her way out of the woods, looking frightened. So…

“...Scar and Cub are still out cold, aren’t they?” he scratched his head, “I don’t know if we should wake them up or not. It might be a bad idea…” 

Silence, and Tango sighed. 

“Okay! Well. I know nobody can understand me, but does anyone have any ideas?”

Yet more terribly awkward silence. Mumbo coughed into his fist. 

“T ozy’e slgp lyj rzzo topld, yz. Tq esle'd hsle jzf'cp ldvtyr."

The gathered hermits looked at each other.

Doc stepped forward. He pointed at the moon (As ever, very careful not to look at it) and dragged his arm down, gesturing that it should set. 

Tango nodded, as did Impulse. 

“Okay, Doc, but like…do you have a plan for that?”

Cleo stepped into the middle of the circle, and knelt down on the ground, waving her hand over her head. Short? Short person?

“Short person?” Tango wondered. 

“Dzxpzyp dszce...” Impulse muttered, stroking his chin. 

Doc’s eyes lit up, and he jabbed excited fingers at Cleo, who nodded eagerly.

Doc made a sleeping motion, laying his head down on his folded hands, and then drew a circle-

“BDUBS!” Tango shouted, “You mean Bdubs, right? We get-” 

Tango rushed over to a nearby birch tree, and peeled a chunk of bark off, careful not to set it alight. He quickly scratched a drawing of Bdubs into the bark, and held it up for them to see.

Doc nodded eagerly, and Cleo smiled in relief. 

Tango handed the bark over, and it was Doc’s turn to draw eagerly.

After a few minutes of scratching with a claw, Doc held up his diagram with pride. The gathered hermits peered in. 

It showed Bdubs, and then an arrow pointing to Bdubs kneeling with his clock, and then Bdubs in a bed. The moon was high, and then it set, and then the sun rose. 

“Bdubs’ ritual…” Tango muttered. Of course. If anyone would be able to get the sun to rise and bring an end to all of this, it had to be Bdubs. Except- Bdubs didn’t have the power to make the moon set. That wasn’t…This wasn’t going to work. It couldn’t. 

Jevin shoved his way forward, hands up, slime drawn into a scowl. 

“Mofmd nly’e xlvp esp dfy ctdp ofctyr l mwzzoxzzy!” Jevin protested. 

Tango scratched his chin. Whatever Jevin had said, it sounded angry. But then…

Doc pointed at the moon, and then tapped Tango’s drawing of Bdubs. 

“Qsjqh xh qtxcv puutrits qn iwt bddc wxbhtau. Wt’h jcstg wtg edltg. Xu iwtgt lph tktg p ixbt lwtgt iwxh ldjas ldgz, xi’s qt idspn. Egdqpqan. X...X iwxcz.” Doc said. 

Whatever that was, Tango got the distinct impression Doc was grasping at straws.

He swallowed, and started to pace back and forth. It felt strange, to be standing under the moon and still in full command of himself. He felt no urge to return to his “fortress” and keep watch over it; the fire in his blood simmered at a cheerful boil, not raging over and threatening to spill out. 

In other words, Tango felt perfectly calm. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and fiddled with his asbestos gloves. 

Think, Tango. Think. 

Bdubs couldn’t make the sun rise during a bloodmoon. But on the other hand, nobody else could make the sun rise at all. Bdubs was the one with the power to warp time like that. And none of them could sleep. 

They could maybe go and throw themselves into Scar and Cub’s magic circle, but that was just asking for trouble when the candles burned down.

They could hunt down Xisuma and poke at his comm, but…

Tango glanced at his own wrist. 

<Iskall85> Q2FuIGFueW9uZSBoZWFyIG1lPw==

…Tango sincerely doubted they’d be able to understand the messages on X’s comm, even if they could get them separated. And based on the bloody wound in Mumbo’s wing, separating X from his comm was bound to be borderline suicidal.

Tango ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. 

They really didn’t have any good options, besides tracking down Bdubs and praying to God the ritual would somehow work. 

“Okay, so…I guess…that’s a plan, then? We track them down, we find Bdubs, we drag him back here. He does his ritual, and then we all just wake up tomorrow and it’s all fine? And none of this ever happened?” 

Everyone blinked at him. 

Tango rolled his eyes, and pointed at Doc’s plan on the bark, and gave it a thumbs-up. 

This was met with a thumbs-up from Impulse, and Cleo, and a less-eager thumbs-up from Jevin. 

Until all of the gathered hermits had an upturned thumb of agreement. 

A twig snapped overhead, and Tango spun around to look. 

And something in his heart siezed. 

Grian was sitting on top of a tree, staring down at them. He tilted his head, red wings spread, eyes looking…empty. His posture was one of disgust? Discomfort? Wings slightly splayed out, ready to fly at a moment’s notice. 

Disquietingly, his eyes were as red as Tango’s own. But that didn’t matter. He’d been watching all of that, Tango was sure. 

And he smiled. 

“Because you didn’t get a word of any of that, did ya, G?” he laughed, “You didn’t catch hide nor hair of anything we just said!”

Grian just tilted his head. He flared his wings, and started to fly away. 

And then, something cold began to churn in Tango’s guts. Because if Grian was there, staring at them, then…?

“I don’t think we have a whole lot of time,” he said quietly, “If I know anything about being moonstruck, I’m thinking they’re gonna go off the rails sooner rather than later…” 

Stress extended a hand, and from the holes in her arm, several bees leapt into the air and flew in hot pursuit of Grian. 

Tango grinned, and offered Stress a fist-bump, which she gratefully took. 

Impulse spread his wings and leapt into the air to follow, and Tango shrugged. 

“Alright, come on. Let’s go get this over with…”

Impulse wasn’t as fast as Grian in the air. Well, normally he wasn’t. In his true form, he was a hell of a lot faster-

-well. But. But letting his true form out to play ran the risk of making the other hermits very, very sick. Fatally sick. So, two wings were enough.

Impulse felt a tickle on his back, and glanced over to see three bumblebees sitting on his shoulders. The three of them were clinging on for dear life, and the fourth was gripping with her front two feet and waving like a flag in the wind. 

He snorted, and flapped even harder..

Grian vanished, diving out of sight, and Impulse swallowed. He was getting close. Had to be. He flapped to a stop and landed on the ground, giving his tail a nervous flick. Under the bloodred light of the moon, the green leaves looked almost black. 

Impulse felt a tickle as the four bees who’d hitched a ride hopped off his back and flew away to keep an eye on things. Stress didn’t really have control over her bees, per se, but they were happy to help with “extracurriculars” like this. 

Impulse crept forwards, tucking his wings in as best as he could. He was a bulky guy with bulky wings and a bulky tail, and that generally precluded stealth- but, well, it had to be done. 

He crouched to make himself even harder to spot, and crept forwards as best he could. 

In a clearing just ahead, Hermits. Lots of them. And from what Impulse could see, they were…arguing?

He peered around the tree, and shivered. 

The clearing was glowing, that much was true. A bright, soft yellow light, bathing everyone in its healing glow. It wasn’t that the hermits had made a bonfire, no, no. Skizz, out of his shell and in his true form, was floating in the middle of the clearing. 

Hovering directly over Bdubs’s head. 

Impulse banged his forehead into the tree, trying not to make any noise. Of course. Of course this had to happen. The one Hermit they needed, more than anyone else, and he was being guarded over by- 

Impulse’s heart siezed. 

Because the more he looked at Skizz, the more the alarm bells started to ring. Skizz’s robot suit was nowhere to be found. He’d built that shell with his own two hands, with extensive help from Zed and Tango. Skizz would never, ever just…abandon it like this. Hell, Skizz didn’t like letting it out of his sight.

And Impulse couldn’t see the robotic shell anywhere in the clearing. 

The second thing was that Skizz’s eyes were all entirely red. One single colour. As unbroken and unblemished as Tango’s red eyes. Impulse shivered. Skizz’s eyes were supposed to shine in all the colours of the rainbow, not just one of them. Which meant…

…how much of his mind had the moon taken away?

Cold fear twisted in Impulse’s stomach at the thought. The thought that if he stepped into that clearing, his best friend might try to kill him. 

Permanently. 

He was a plague demon. Skizz was an angel of healing. 

If Skizz healed him, or hit him with holy fire…

…well. Game over. 

“So how are we gonna get you away from Bdubs?” Impulse muttered, eyes narrowing. 

Bdubs started to pace around the clearing, and Skizz followed after him, floating in the air like a balloon on a string. 

Impulse leaned in, eyes narrowing. He couldn’t make out much of the conversation, just snatches- 

“╎⎓ ∴ᒷ ⍑╎↸ᒷ, ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ|| ∴𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ⎓╎リ↸ ⚍ᓭ.” Xisuma said.

“∴ᒷ ᓵᔑリ ↸╎⊣ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷⊣∷𝙹⚍リ↸. ᓭℸ ̣ᔑ|| ╎リ ᔑ ᓵᔑ⍊ᒷ.” Iskall added, leaning against a tree, stroking his chin. 

xB stepped forward, flicking his armoured fish tail and stroking his fingers through his beard and whiskers. 

“ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ, ╎⎓ ∴ᒷ’∷ᒷ ᓭ⚍∷∷𝙹⚍リ↸ᒷ↸ ʖ|| ᒲ𝙹リᓭℸ ̣ ᒷ∷ᓭ, ∴ᒷ ᓵᔑリ ⍑╎↸ᒷ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ 𝙹ᓵᒷᔑリ. ᒲ𝙹ᓭℸ ̣  𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷᒲ ᓵᔑリ’ℸ ̣  ᓭ∴╎ᒲ, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ ? ᔑリ↸ ∴ᒷ’ꖎꖎ ʖᒷ 𝙹⚍ℸ ̣  𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リꖎ╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣.” 

This was met with some eyerolls, and Iskall jabbed a finger at his robotic arm a few times by way of a reply. 

Impulse snuck forward a little, eyes narrowing. 

So they were able to talk. To each other, if not anyone else. That was…a disturbing thought. The fact that anyone who was moonstruck was able to talk at all. The moon had always robbed him of communication, and left these guys with it? Talk about unfair. 

The human hermits had their heads down, and were avoiding looking at the moon. Good. At least that. At least they had a little bit of sense left. 

Impulse felt his skin crawl at the thought of looking at the moon. Gazing into the red light was the quickest path to insanity, moonstruck or not. Something about staring into the bloodred rock…did things, to the mind. 

Xisuma was clutching his shotgun, which explained Mumbo’s injury. Though X had the shotgun broken in half, chambers open and unloaded, and he had it slung in a safe carry over his arm. Impulse swallowed. That was…weird. 

The others were still talking. 

“↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||’∷ᒷ ⊣𝙹╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣𝙹 ʖᒷ 𝙹ꖌᔑ||?” Pearl asked, pulling on her hoodie strings. She looked…sad. Scared. 

“∴ᒷ ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ℸ ̣ᔑ ⍑𝙹!¡ᒷ ᓭ𝙹. ╎ ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ᔑ ⊣ꖎ╎ᒲ!¡ᓭᒷ 𝙹⎓ ᓭℸ ̣∷ᒷᓭᓭ, ᔑリ↸ ᓭ⍑ᒷ…╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ ⎓ꖎᔑℸ ̣-𝙹⚍ℸ ̣, ᒲᔑℸ ̣ᒷ. ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ᔑℸ ̣ ᓭ⚍リ∷╎ᓭᒷ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||’ꖎꖎ ʖᒷ 𝙹ꖌᔑ|| ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ?" False said, and at that, Iskall’s face fell. He looked really upset.

“ᓭℸ ̣∷ᒷᓭᓭ ╎ᓭ ᓭ╎ᓵꖌ? !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ ℸ ̣ᒷꖎꖎ ᒲᒷ ᓭ⍑ᒷ’ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ…𝙹⍑, リ𝙹. ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ∴ᒷ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ⍑╎↸ᒷ, ℸ ̣⍑ᒷリ. ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ∴ᒷ ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ⎓𝙹∷ ᔑ ᓵ⚍∷ᒷ?” Iskall’s voice was trembling a little, and he pulled out his sword, giving it a shake to accentuate his point. 

False shook her head, her face falling. 

"∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣ ╎ᓭ, ╎ℸ ̣'ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ᓭℸ ̣∷ᒷᓭᓭ. ╎ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ᓭ⍑ᒷ'ᓭ ↸ᒷᔑ↸. ╎ℸ ̣ !¡ᒷᒷꖎᒷ↸ 𝙹⎓⎓ ⍑ᒷ∷ ᓭꖌ╎リ ᔑリ↸ ╎ℸ ̣'ᓭ ∴ᒷᔑ∷╎リ⊣ ╎ℸ ̣ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ᔑ ᓵ𝙹ᓭℸ ̣⚍ᒲᒷ." She said, putting a hand on Iskall’s shoulder. 

Iskall’s face darkened, and he gripped his sword tightly. 

Keralis elbowed xB, who slapped his armoured tail into the ground loud enough to draw everyone’s attention, and then gestured at Keralis. 

Keralis put his hands up, and spoke, voice clear and calm. 

“ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ ᒲᔑꖌᒷᓭ ᒲ𝙹リᓭℸ ̣ᒷ∷ᓭ ᓭᓵᔑ∷╎ᒷ∷ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑリ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ|| ᔑ∷ᒷ, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣? ╎ℸ ̣ ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ʖᒷ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷ ꖌ╎リ↸ 𝙹⎓ ᔑ ℸ ̣∷╎ᓵꖌ. ∴ᒷ ↸𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ℸ ̣𝙹 ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᒲ ╎⎓ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣'ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᓵᔑᓭᒷ- ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||'∷ᒷ 𝙹⚍∷ ⎓∷╎ᒷリ↸ᓭ, ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ|| ∴𝙹リ'ℸ ̣ ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣ ⚍ᓭ!"  He said, and this was met with some hesitant nods.

Iskall’s face darkened and he spoke again: 

"ᔑリ↸ ╎⎓ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ|| ↸𝙹 ℸ ̣∷|| ℸ ̣𝙹 ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣ ⚍ᓭ?"

xB slapped his tail to the ground to get everyone’s attention again, his whiskers twitching in the cool night air. He gestured at Iskall. 

"∴ᒷꖎꖎ, ℸ ̣⍑ᒷリ ∴ᒷ ⊣𝙹 𝙹リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ∴ᔑ∷!¡ᔑℸ ̣⍑. ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ⎓𝙹∷ リ𝙹∴, ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷||𝙹リᒷ ⊣∷ᔑʖ ||𝙹⚍∷ ᓭℸ ̣⚍⎓⎓. ∴ᒷ ∴ᔑ╎ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ 𝙹⚍ℸ ̣ ᔑリ↸ ᓭᒷᒷ ╎⎓ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||'∷ᒷ ʖᒷℸ ̣ℸ ̣ᒷ∷ ᓵ𝙹ᒲᒷ ᓭ⚍リ∷╎ᓭᒷ."

He gestured as he spoke, and the gathered Hermits nodded in approval. Whatever point he was making was clearly well considered. 

Impulse swallowed. Whatever they were planning, there was no way it ended well. Red light gleamed in the depths of every pupil. If he was standing there under the moon, he’d be ready to start spreading plague to every person on the server….

It was at this point that a branch broke behind him, and Impulse rolled his shoulders. They just needed to grab Bdubs, and then they could put a stop to this nightmare. 

Branches started to creak and rustle all around him, and Impulse sighed. Had any of his friends heard of being sneaky?

“...ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣’ᓭ ᓵ𝙹ᒲ╎リ⊣,” Iskall said, and Xisuma slammed two shells into his gun and snapped it closed. 

Impulse narrowed his eyes as a bee landed on the branch in front of him. He sniffed at the air, eyes narrowing. The others had caught up, and followed the bees. But…well. How were they supposed to coordinate this if nobody could understand each other? 

The other hermits were getting agitated. Grian had his wings fluffed up, and was looking around nervously. Impulse really didn’t want to be the first to charge in there- 

-Which was the exact moment that Tango tripped over something and fell facefirst into the clearing. 

Well, there went the element of surprise. 

“NOW!” Impulse shouted, leaping out of the bushes and charging into the clearing. 

All around him, the forest erupted, his friends lunging out of cover. They just needed Bdubs. They just needed Bdubs. They’d grab Bdubs, and give him a bed, and this nightmare would be over before it had begun. He’d been hoping to just lure Bdubs away, but-

Screams burst out from all around them, and Impulse dove for Bdubs. Just grab him and run. Grab him and run-

He heard a hiss to the left, the whole scene illuminated by the flickering light of Skizzleman’s soul. A gunshot split the air, bees buzzed, and Impulse reached out his hands to grab Bdubs by the shirt- 

A blast of holy fire split the air in front of him, and he tumbled back, scrambling away. Terror shot through his veins, and Impulse slowly craned his neck up. 

Skizz stared down at him, and for a moment, there was no chaos. Just his best friend in his true form, gazing upon him like a stain that needed to be purged. 

“YOU ARE SICK. YOU WILL BE WELL.” Skizz…spoke. He spoke in a flat monotone, deafeningly loud, echoing off every rock and tree branch. The words burned, magic snapping at his ears and biting at his bones. 

Skizz, of course, was always understood by the sick. 

Impulse screamed. 

He spun on his heel, dodging another blast of holy fire, and another, and another, as Skizz chased him back, back, back into the woods- 

Bdubs-! 

Impulse was staring, and he circled back around- 

Blasts of fire made the trees bloom with extra leaves, and bugs and biting insects fell out of the bark. In his panic, the grass below Impulse’s feet started to die. Every footfall, more of it withered and twisted, and he spun on a dime with a flap of his wings and burst back into the clearing. 

The shouting was deafening, claws and teeth parrying swords and axes. He watched as Pearl ran into the woods, watched Keralis vanish with a yell- 

Fire burst up all around him, and Impulse caught sight of something- a flash of green- 

He grabbed the green thing, slamming the hermit tight to his chest, and with three almighty flaps, he was flying up, up, up- 

Holy fire blasted at him, the evil heat scorching the scales of his tail, and Impulse flapped as hard as he could. Distance, distance, he needed distance. 

The hermit he’d grabbed was struggling, screaming and thrashing, and Impulse ignored it in favour of flying as far as he could. 

A few minutes later, Impulse looked down. 

And his heart sank. 

Because he wasn’t clinging on to Bdubs. 

He was clinging on to Iskall.

Chapter Text

“Well that was a disaster,” Jevin muttered, waggling his jawbone in irritation.

Jevin, being a slime, relied on a skeleton embedded in his ooze to give him shape and structure. Without his skeleton, he'd just flop to the ground, unable to move. 

On the other hand, it did mean he could rattle his own bones in irritation. Which he dutifully did.

“Jpls.” Cleo groaned. 

“I saw Bdubs running off into the woods. So we messed that up. Joe slapped you across the face, Impulse nearly got cooked, and now we’re just wandering around without a plan!” Jevin growled, and Cleo sighed. 

“T ozy’e yppo l eclydwlezc ez vyzh jzf’cp hstytyr.” Cleo rolled their eyes.

“Ugh.” Jevin muttered. 

A loud buzz caught their attention, and both of them noticed a bee resting on a leaf nearby. It buzzed its wings and bobbed its body, and Jevin relaxed with a slosh of slime against bone. 

“Thank god. You know where Stress is, right?” 

The bee buzzed something, and hopped off the leaf, hovering in the air. 

“Cool. Lead the way!” Jevin said brightly. 

“T’x ufde rwlo Decpdd sld yznefcylw mppd...” Cleo said, smiling as she followed it. 

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Jevin nodded. 

They both started to walk, following the bee from branch to branch, and leaf to leaf. The light of Skizz started to dim behind them as they ventured deeper and deeper into the woods. 

Ahead of them, the forest rattled and groaned with countless mobs, spawning from all over. And yet, none of them were approaching the two hermits. A skeleton, standing on the path ahead, dove out of the way and disappeared into the woods. 

“Esp xzmd lcpy’e leelnvtyr fd. Esle mzespcd xp l wze.” Cleo muttered. 

“Sure, whatever you say. I’m just glad we’re not under attack.” Jevin sighed, rolling his vision-bulbs. 

“Dsfe fa, Upgty. T xply te. Esp xzmd lcp tryzctyr fd. Hsle ozpd esle xply?"

“I have no idea what you’re saying right now.” 

“Ctrse mlnv lensl.”

The forest behind them started to rustle, and Jevin’s heart seized. 

“Cleo? I think we’re being followed.” 

“Upgty-”

And then-

All Jevin saw was a glimpse of two soft brown eyes and a mess of soft brown hair, covered in sweat. Black clothes from head to toe, and two pinpricks of red shining out from the pupils. 

And clutched in Hypno’s hands was his psychic dampener, dangling loosely from his fingertips. A slim silver band with two sweat-drenched silver discs, both of which fit snugly over Hypno’s temples.

Jevin didn’t even have time to scream. 

And- 

Scared scared scared RED scared monster monster RED they attacked us RED they attacked us RED we can’t run we can’t hide RED what are you doing? What are you doing? What did you do? RED Jevin what happened to you RED cleo what did they do to you RED i don’t want to die RED i don’t want to die RED i want i want 

Blue slime caged in meat RED Rotten flesh caged in steel RED Heart that shouldn’t beat that does RED Slime that shouldn’t freeze is stone RED Let them go let them go RED What have you done what have you done RED 

RED where is my friend? What have you done? RED what did you do? RED where am i? RED let me out RED my head hurts RED i’m scared RED-

The blast of pure thought that slammed through Jevin’s thinky bits was enough to make his knees shake. Cleo grabbed onto a nearby tree, shouting and clutching at her head, as Hypno stepped closer and closer- 

Jevin couldn’t move. He didn’t have a discrete brain, so the pain of Hypno’s assault was evenly distributed through his slime, rattling around every one of his stolen bones and threatening to crack his all-important pelvis- 

A buzz split the air. 

Stress’s bee jumped off the branch it was crouched on and charged straight for Hypno. It turned, raised its abdomen- 

And stabbed its stinger straight into his forehead. 

Hypno screamed and the spell broke, and Jevin grabbed Cleo’s hand and RAN. 

Stress had found them a clearing under the moon, and she paced back and forth as her friends trickled in. 

Doc was already there, sketching out something on a piece of paper. Jevin and Cleo emerged from the bushes a minute later, and Mumbo flapped in for a graceless landing a second after that. 

Everyone looked…frazzled. 

More and more were trickling in, and she started to pace. 

A bee buzzed over to her and landed on her finger. The poor thing’s abdomen was frantically flexing- she’d flown her hardest to get there. 

“Message,” the bee buzzed, “Message for you, landlady.” 

“Yes?” Stress asked, and the bee panted some more. 

“Everyone you directed us to follow is alive,” The bee gasped, “We’re going to rest, now.” 

Stress gently shook the bee onto her other palm, and the poor thing crawled into a crack in the wood that was laced between her flesh. 

Stress ran a clawed hand through her hair. At least that. At least everyone was still alive. 

At least that. 

Wingbeats split the air, huge and heavy, and everyone craned their necks up to see Impulse flying in, his massive wings bludgeoning the air into submission. 

And in his arms-

Stress gasped. 

Iskall. 

And he was completely limp. 

Stress started to shake. Was he dead? Why hadn’t he respawned? Respawn during a bloodmoon was a dicey prospect for the monsters, but for the other Hermits, it was still a guarantee. 

She couldn’t afford to die, but Iskall could. So-

Impulse landed, and Stress rushed over. 

Immediately, relief blossomed. Iskall was still breathing, thank God and all the angels. 

…Okay, maybe not all the angels. Seeing as Skizzleman currently wanted to light her on fire. 

And actually-

Stress frowned. 

Iskall was breathing, alright. Slung over Impulse’s shoulder like dirty laundry, dangling limply. But he was breathing in short, sharp pants, and when she walked around to Impulse’s back-

One eye was closed, obviously. But the bionic eye was shining like a searchlight. Still glowing green. Stress didn’t want to speculate what could cause the embedded LED’s to turn red. 

Generally, Iskall’s bionic eye switched off its lights when he was asleep or otherwise not wanting to see. It didn’t blink, but in a case like this, it should have been off. 

The light was on. So he was still looking around. 

He was definitely staring straight at her face. Iskall’s entire posture stiffened, just for a second. A minute gasp of air. Some unspoken terror, as ethereal as candle smoke.

And then he was still again. 

Still staring at her. 

Stress shivered. 

“T rclmmpo esp hczyr apcdzy.” Impulse said miserably, gently putting Iskall on the ground. He didn’t move at all, and Stress knelt down beside him and took a closer look. 

No injuries, no damage. Thank god. 

Doc came ambling over, and facepalmed with a loud THWAP. 

“Rcple. Lhpdzxp. Rzzo rztyr, Txafwdp. Oto jzf ufde rclm esp qtcde rcppy estyr jzf dlh?!” Doc growled, jabbing a finger at Iskall’s green shirt, and then at his own green skin. 

Impulse’s tail gave a few contrite flicks, and Stress groaned. 

“You grabbed the wrong green one!” Stress sighed, rubbing her face. 

She turned her attention back to Iskall. And how he wasn’t moving, still.  

“...Are you playing dead, luv?” She wondered aloud. 

Stress shrugged, and sat down next to him. Whatever the case, it made a nice change of pace to the screaming and weapons and running away. Hopefully whatever that spike of stress earlier had been, she could calm him down by just sitting with him. Maybe?

Doc paced back and forth, getting himself engrossed in an argument with Impulse that neither of them could parse, and Stress stroked her chin.

Cleo and Tango approached her, and Stress tilted her head. 

Tango opened a blank book he’d found, this time full of pictures he and Cleo had drawn.

Picture one showed a crude drawing of Iskall running away from the clearing. Picture two showed Iskall telling a whole bunch of people something. Picture three showed all the people storming the clearing, this time armed with swords.

Stress swallowed, and looked at him. 

“You got a point there….” She muttered.

Tango turned the page to show a diagram of Iskall tied to a tree. 

Stress bit her lip. 

“I don’t like that plan,” She said, shaking her head. 

“Hpww, ezz olxy mlo. Hp nly’e lqqzco ez wpe espx vyzh hspcp hp lcp. Sp’ww mp qtyp.” Cleo said.

Tango turned the page again, to show a diagram of Impulse in his safety box chained to a wall. He’d drawn an equals sign, and beside that was another diagram of Iskall tied to a tree. 

“Oh.” Stress said, rubbing her face. 

Right. The panic box. 

She sighed. 

“Alright, you got a point there, I guess.” She said, “Even if it’s so he doesn’t hurt ‘imself…” 

Stress nodded at them, and Cleo smiled and produced a lead (Likely stolen from a trader llama.)

Stress got to her feet. 

There was a grunt beside her, and she turned- 

To see Iskall, on his feet and sprinting away as fast as he could. 

Mumbo caught the scent of panic and fear. 

He could smell terror, and he could smell it on prey-

Bad! Bad Mumbo! 

This, this was why his wings were a bad idea! They filled his head with stupid thoughts, made the monster think it had equal right to sit in his brain-office. The brain-office was for Man-Mumbo, not Monster-Mumbo. 

…Still. Scared prey? 

He watched as Iskall flopped on the ground, not moving a muscle from where Impulse had laid him. He reeked of fear and panic, and Mumbo’s teeth started to drop in response. 

Scared prey was bad prey. Scared prey fought back. Scared prey would take their pound of flesh in return for an ounce of blood. 

Mumbo smacked those thoughts back with a mental rolled-up newspaper and snapped his fingers, forcing the vampire out of his brain-office. 

But still. He could smell Iskall’s fear. That…really, that did make sense. He’d been grabbed by Impulse and was surrounded on all sides. He wasn’t recognizing friend or foe at this point. Mumbo couldn’t blame him. 

Tango’s idea of restraining their friends until daybreak was honestly not terrible. After all, part of the reason he got locked up during these outings was for his own safety. If they could tie Iskall up someplace safe, then he could just wait out the bloodmoon and be fine come morning. 

There was a shout, and suddenly Iskall was up and sprinting-

Sprinting straight for him, actually. No weapon in hand, just running as fast and as hard as he could. 

“XFXMZ, DEZA STX!” Cleo shouted, and even through the nonsense- 

Mumbo spun, catching the back of Iskall’s shirt, and hauling him back. Because, hold on, if Iskall ran away and told the others, well-

“ꖎᒷℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ ⊣𝙹! ꖎᒷℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ ⊣𝙹 ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ リ𝙹∴!” Iskall screamed as Mumbo hauled him back and pinned him against the nearest tree. 

“It’s okay, dude, It’s okay!” Mumbo panted, “I’m not gonna hurt you!” 

“⎓⚍ᓵꖌ ||𝙹⚍! ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ ꖌ╎ꖎꖎ ᒲᒷ!” that had to be hurting Iskall’s throat, that had to be- 

He was thrashing and shaking, spitting and trying to claw at Mumbo’s face, his arms- 

And for just a second, Mumbo could have sworn he saw tears in his friend’s eye. 

Iskall pulled a sword out of his inventory between blinks, and Mumbo was struggling to keep him contained- 

He barely dodged the blade, knocking it out of his friend’s metal grasp. Mumbo planted one huge clawed hand in the middle of Iskall’s chest, shoving him against the tree and keeping him there. 

His fangs slid down to full extension. An instinctive thing- the stress, the excitement, the wings, the moon. His Vampire was screaming at him to Pacify and then feed, feed, feed- 

No. 

Not now, not ever. Not without explicit permission. And right now, Iskall wasn’t even speaking the same language as him. This wasn’t- 

Feeding, here and now, was wrong. 

“It’s okay!” Mumbo spat out, biting his own tongue with his suddenly-shifted teeth, “We’re trying to help you!” 

Iskall let out a howl of fear and frustration. 

Cleo and Tango came rushing over, and within a second, they had Iskall restrained against the tree. He thrashed and struggled a few times, and everyone took a step back. 

He was glaring at Mumbo hatefully, and that- well, that was okay. 

Mumbo sniffed the air. 

He could still smell fear. 

“Hpww esle hzcvpo. Zyp ozhy...hlj ezz xlyj ez rz.” Cleo said. 

She produced another coil of rope, and Mumbo sighed in relief. 

“Ctrse. Yzh hp’gp rze esle oplwe htes, Pgpcjzyp zgpc spcp.” Doc said, waving his book in the air. 

Everyone nodded, and turned away from Iskall, walking into the middle of the clearing. 

Iskall, alone, tied to his tree, started to shake. He turned his head to look at the backs of the retreating hermits, eyes lingering on Mumbo and Stress. 

A tear rolled out of his eye, and he forced his breathing to stay even. 

He leaned back, head banging into the tree, and opened his organic eye. 

And there, high above, was the moon. 

The blood-red moon. 

He stared at it. 

It stared at him. 

Bloodred light washed over his face.

And his bionic eye started to pulse red in the centre. 

Chapter Text

Doc frowned. 

Iskall’s reaction was tickling something in the back of his mind. They’d tied him up, just like they did with Impulse, say, when the blood moon rose. But was it working? 

Doc glanced over towards Iskall’s tree as everyone gathered around, and saw his friend just- slumped against the tree. Staring at the ground. Not moving. 

Doc frowned. 

Something about this whole method just wasn’t right. 

But for now, they had bigger problems. 

Doc spread the book open and showed it to the gathered hermits. 

“My plan is simple,” He said, tapping the first picture, “We find Bdubs. Won’t be hard, Skizz is following him.” 

“Esle td esp hzcde oclhtyr zq Dvtkk T’gp pgpc dppy. Sp wzzvd wtvp l mlww zq dalrspeet.”

Impulse said, folding his arms. 

“Yeah, whatever, man. Anyway. First, we find Skizz and Bdubs. Impulse, your job,” Doc said, turning the page, “Will be to lure Skizz away from him. Just cough on people, I don’t care.” 

Doc tapped on the diagram of Impulse sneezing on a bunch of Hermits, and an alarmed Skizz with several !!! over his head rushing over to cure them.

He tapped on the next diagram, of himself grabbing Bdubs by the hand. 

“Then, we escort Bdubs to the nearest bed. Hand him his clock, and let him do his thing.” 

Doc turned the page, where he’d drawn a large question mark. 

“Any questions?” 

Several hands went up. 

Tango scribbled a drawing of Bdubs next to the bed, followed by a question mark. 

“Yeah, it’ll work,” Doc said, sketching out his own diagram. Bdubs + Moon (Evil) = sunrise, which he showed Tango. 

“Because Bdubs himself is moonstruck, I’m confident he’ll have the power needed to bring the sun and save us from this mess.” 

Cleo raised their hand.

Everyone looked at her, as she took Tango’s book, scribbled a diagram, and held it up. 

Doc raised an eyebrow. 

It was a hand pointing at a clock. 

He glanced at his comm, as did everyone else. 

Doc stared at the clock in the corner, and then up at the sky, and then back at his clock. The comm clock was the only thing that wasn’t completely broken. The only bit of the display that was still readable. And boy, did Doc not like the numbers he was seeing on that display. 

“...It’s… almost lunchtime…” Doc said, “It’s ten o’clock…” 

And he was staring up at a star-studded sky. 

A black abyss, bereft of daylight. 

Doc took a deep breath. 

“We need to do this.” He said, his tone serious enough that everyone was nodding, “If we don’t bring the sun, then…I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s not rising. But it’s not. We need to do this.” 

A branch broke behind them, and Doc lifted his head. 

Iskall was still tied to his tree. But he was staring straight up at the moon, jaw slightly slack. 

Doc hissed. 

“YZ!” Stress shouted, rushing over and grabbing Iskall by the head, trying to get in the way, trying to stop him-

His response was kicking at her shins and letting out a bloodcurdling scream, headbutting Stress and trying to force her back-

Gunfire split the air, and Doc yelled. Everyone scattered in all directions, Impulse grabbing Cleo and Jevin in one hand each and flinging himself into the air. Mumbo saw a flash of holy light and took off with a yelp, and Stress barely ducked an arrow and took off into the bushes. 

Ren stared at him, panting, eyes wild, and Doc shoved him. 

“GO!” Doc bellowed, and Ren-

Between bounds, he shifted from man to wolf. Massive, massive leaps, as brown fur sprouted across his body, and he ran for the safety of the deep forest. 

Doc was about to take off running, when he saw- 

Cleo’s book. They’d dropped it. Leaving that laying around would be tantamount to leaving their plans on full display-

Doc lunged for it, and then sprinted for the safety of the bushes, diving in just in time. 

He went very, very still.

Through the leaves, he could see his human friends stampeding into the clearing. They all looked scared, and through the flickering torchlight, it was obvious they’d been looking for Iskall. 

Skizzleman floated out of the woods, casting his healing light over everyone, prompting a happy sigh from those caught in the beam. xB flicked his armoured tail and leaned on Keralis, who patted his shoulder. 

False, meanwhile, walked straight over to Iskall and cut his bindings, letting him drop to the ground. Skizz healed away his rope burn, and Iskall stood up and brushed himself off. 

He stepped into the middle of the clearing, and he spoke. 

“⊣⚍||ᓭ. ᓵᔑリ ||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹 ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣ ⎓𝙹∷ ᒲᒷ?”

He was smiling, ear to ear. A genuinely happy grin. Excited, and ready to share something. 

Doc swallowed. 

Iskall spread his arms up at the moon, staring up at it with a huge smile. 

“ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ. ℸ ̣∷⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ. ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ!”

This was met with some concerned looks. 

Zed stepped forwards. 

“∴⍑ᒷリ ℸ ̣ᔑリ⊣𝙹 ∴ᔑᓭ ᓭℸ ̣╎ꖎꖎ ᔑꖎ╎⍊ᒷ, ⍑ᒷ ℸ ̣𝙹ꖎ↸ ᒲᒷ ℸ ̣𝙹   リᒷ⍊ᒷ∷ ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ᔑℸ ̣ ᔑ ʖꖎ𝙹𝙹↸ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ. ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ╎リ⊣ ᔑℸ ̣ ╎ℸ ̣ ᒲᔑꖌᒷᓭ ||𝙹⚍ ╎リᓭᔑリᒷ.” Zed’s words were cautious, and the expression on his face was worried. He stole a glance at the moon- and looked away. 

“リ𝙹. ╎ℸ ̣ ↸𝙹ᒷᓭリ’ℸ ̣ ᒲᔑꖌᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ╎リᓭᔑリᒷ! ╎ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣ᔑꖌᒷᓭ ||𝙹⚍∷ ⎓ᒷᔑ∷ ᔑ∴ᔑ||. ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ᔑꖎꖎ ╎ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ᓭ! ╎ℸ ̣ ↸𝙹ᒷᓭリ’ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ⚍ᓭ ℸ ̣𝙹 ʖᒷ ᓭᓵᔑ∷ᒷ↸ ᔑリ||ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ, ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ᔑꖎꖎ. ᔑリ↸ ╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ ⊣𝙹𝙹↸ ⎓𝙹∷ ╎↸ᒷᔑᓭ. ╎ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ᓭ𝙹 ᒲᔑリ|| ╎↸ᒷᔑᓭ ℸ ̣𝙹 ᒲᔑꖌᒷ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣ ∴ᒷᔑ∷╎リ⊣ ᓭℸ ̣∷ᒷᓭᓭ’ ᓭꖌ╎リ !¡ᔑ|| ⎓𝙹∷ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ╎ℸ ̣ ↸╎↸.”  Iskall was laughing, now, a huge smile on his face. 

“||𝙹⚍ ᓭ𝙹⚍リ↸ !¡∷ᒷℸ ̣ℸ ̣|| ╎リᓭᔑリᒷ ℸ ̣𝙹 ᒲᒷ, ᒲᔑℸ ̣ᒷ. ╎ℸ ̣ ᒲ╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ʖᒷ ᔑ ℸ ̣∷╎ᓵꖌ 𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ. ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ∴ᒷ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ∴ᔑ╎ℸ ̣ ⎓𝙹∷ ↸ᔑ||ʖ∷ᒷᔑꖌ?” False said dubiously. Pacing back and forth. She looked concerned. 

“╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ ℸ ̣ᒷリ 𝙹’ᓵꖎ𝙹ᓵꖌ ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹∷リ╎リ⊣, ᔑリ↸ ||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ∴ᒷ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ∴ᔑ╎ℸ ̣ ⎓𝙹∷ ↸ᔑ||ʖ∷ᒷᔑꖌ? ╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ↸ᔑ||’ᓭ ⊣𝙹╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣𝙹 ʖ∷ᒷᔑꖌ.”  Iskall gestured at his comm, and the gathered Hermits checked theirs too. 

Doc narrowed his eyes. Comms stopped working during a bloodmoon. What were they doing? What did Iskall just say?

Keralis spoke, then, his voice a little…strained. 

“↸ᔑ||’ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ʖ∷ᒷᔑꖌ╎リ⊣? ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ∴ᒷ ꖎ╎ᓭℸ ̣ᒷリ ℸ ̣𝙹 ╎ᓭꖌᔑꖎꖎ. ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ…?”

Bdubs stepped forwards then, and folded his arms.

“ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ. ╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ ᔑ ʖꖎ𝙹𝙹↸ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ, ᓭ𝙹 ╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑリリᔑ ℸ ̣∷|| ᒲᔑꖌ╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᓭ⚍リ ∷╎ᓭᒷ. !¡∷𝙹ʖᔑʖꖎ|| リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ ∴𝙹∷ꖌ, ᔑリ||∴ᔑ||. ᔑリ↸ ╎⎓ ╎ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑᓭ ᔑꖎ∷ᒷᔑ↸|| ᓭ⚍!¡!¡𝙹ᓭᒷ↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ʖᒷ ↸ᔑ||, ℸ ̣⍑ᒷリ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣⍑╎リ’ᓭ ᓭℸ ̣𝙹!¡!¡╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣! ╎ ʖᒷℸ ̣ ╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑𝙹ᓭᒷ ᒲ𝙹リᓭℸ ̣ᒷ∷ᓭ. ╎ ʖᒷℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ|| ↸╎↸ ╎ℸ ̣. ⍑ᒷꖎꖎ, ╎ ʖᒷℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||’∷ᒷ ᓭℸ ̣𝙹!¡!¡╎リ⊣ 𝙹⚍∷ ⎓∷╎ᒷリ↸ᓭ ⎓∷𝙹ᒲ ∷ᒷᓭ!¡ᔑ∴リ╎リ⊣, ℸ ̣𝙹𝙹! ||𝙹⚍ ᓭᔑ∴ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ|| ↸╎↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ↸𝙹ᓵ!”  Bdubs said emphatically. He took out his clock and gave it a shake, and then put it away and pulled out two of his knives. He made a stabbing motion with both of them, the rest of his knife bandolier clanking as he moved. 

This seemed to garner a positive response, the rest of the hermits nodding along.

“ᓭᒷᒷ? ᔑリ↸ ╎⎓ ||𝙹⚍ ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ, ╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡ᓭ! ╎’ᒲ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ᓭᓵᔑ∷ᒷ↸ ᔑリ||ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ. ᓵ𝙹ᒲᒷ 𝙹リ, ⊣⚍||ᓭ, ╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ᓭ𝙹 ʖᔑ↸!” Iskall was nodding eagerly, gesturing at the moon with both hands. 

His bionic eye had turned fully red.  

Keralis and xB shrugged at each other. 

“ᔑ⍑, ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ∴𝙹∷ᓭℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ⍑ᔑ!¡!¡ᒷリ?” xB chuckled.

Keralis shrugged, and turned to look at the moon. Doc felt a shard of ice stab through his augmented heart. No. No. NO.

Anything latent in them was going to come out. Any monstrous ability, anything- 

Anything at all was going to be ripped out of whatever dark crevice they’d stuffed it in. If Impulse stared at the moon, he’d stop at nothing until he’d spread a plague across the land that sickened every living thing. If Doc himself stared at it- 

And now Keralis was looking up at it, jaw slack, eyes wide. 

Keralis mumbled something, and Iskall laughed and gestured frantically at it. 

“ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ. ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ. ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ!”

Slowly, one by one, the gathered Hermits turned, and they craned their necks up to stare at the hateful surface of the blood-red moon. 

Iskall was laughing, rubbing his hands together. Animatedly bouncing between friends, nattering on about one thing after another. A minute later, Keralis burst out laughing too, a genuine giggle like he’d heard a really funny joke. 

The laughter was infectious, as Hermit after Hermit pulled their gaze from the heavens, wrenched themselves back from whatever abyss they’d gazed into. Until the whole gathering seemed excited and gleeful, laughter and smiles lost in the bloodred light of the moon. 

The only person not laughing was Skizzleman, still perched resolutely over Bdubs’s head. 

A single-function robot in place of a man whose whole life was spreading joy. 

The laughter died down, and Iskall threw his arms up. 

“||𝙹⚍ ᓭᒷᒷ? ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᒲ𝙹𝙹リ ᒲᔑꖌᒷᓭ ╎ℸ ̣ ᔑꖎꖎ ʖᒷℸ ̣ℸ ̣ᒷ∷. ╎’ᒲ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ᓭᓵᔑ∷ᒷ↸ ᔑリ||ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ, ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍?”

The gathered hermits shook their heads. 

“ℸ ̣⍑ᒷリ ꖎᒷℸ ̣’ᓭ ⊣𝙹. ℸ ̣⍑𝙹ᓭᒷ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣ᓭ ꖌ╎ꖎꖎᒷ↸ 𝙹⚍∷ ⎓∷╎ᒷリ↸ᓭ, 𝙹⚍∷ ⎓ᔑᒲ╎ꖎ||, 𝙹⚍∷ ꖎ𝙹⍊ᒷ∷ᓭ. ᔑリ↸ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||’∷ᒷ ∴ᒷᔑ∷╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ╎∷ ᓭꖌ╎リᓭ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹 ∷ᒷᔑꖎꖎ|| ∷⚍ʖ ╎ℸ ̣ ╎リ. ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||’∷ᒷ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ !¡ᔑ|| ⎓𝙹∷ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||’⍊ᒷ ↸𝙹リᒷ!” Iskall said, gesturing with his axe at the forest beyond. 

A great cheer rose up from the group, and Doc shuddered. 

“ꖎᒷℸ ̣’ᓭ ⊣𝙹. ∴ᒷ’∷ᒷ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ℸ ̣𝙹 ʖᒷ ᓭᒲᔑ∷ℸ ̣ ╎⎓ ∴ᒷ’∷ᒷ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ ℸ ̣ᔑꖌᒷ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᒲ ᔑꖎꖎ ↸𝙹∴リ.”xB said, and the others all nodded. 

Doc shivered. 

Whatever had just been said, it was very bad news for him. 

Time to leave. 

He crept away from the clearing, and into the dark safety of the woods.

Chapter Text

It could have been an hour. It could have been a day. 

The moon wasn’t moving, and Ren was all alone.

He’d decided to stay in his wolf form. Under the bloodmoon, it was bigger and stronger than usual- and best of all, a hell of a lot faster. 

He stomped on a branch, the snap echoing through the woods. 

The others were gone, and Ren didn’t feel like howling to draw attention to himself. Oh, sure, he could easily switch back, but then he’d be tired out and need a rest. And of course, famously, you couldn’t sleep during a bloodmoon. 

A branch broke to the right, and Ren spun, teeth already bared. 

Obviously he couldn’t really talk in this form, so he opted to just growl, hoping to scare whatever it was away.

Instead-

An arrow flew out of the woods, and smashed into Ren’s shoulder. 

Shit! Shit!

He took off running, sprinting a hundred blocks or more, and pausing to catch his breath. 

Branches behind him broke, and Ren swallowed. 

Were they…were they following him? 

The footsteps drew closer, and Ren took a few deep breaths, steadying himself-

Another arrow flew out of the dark, and smashed into his back. 

He growled, and took off running again. 

Mumbo flew. 

Not in any particular direction, he just- flew. Frantic, desperate. He needed to make as much distance between himself and Skizzleman as humanly possible. If Skizz caught up to him- 

Disaster. 

So Mumbo flew. The bloodmoon shone hateful red light on both his wings, wounded and not, and he swallowed, the wind whipping at his face, at his tie. 

Unfortunately, he’d taken off in entirely the wrong direction. He was flying back towards the neighborhood, instead of deeper into the wilderness. There wasn’t much to be done on that front- turning around would just give Skizz time to catch up to him, and doubling back- 

Mumbo shivered. 

On the ground far below, he saw a lone figure standing among the grass. He flapped down at little- who was that? 

Mumbo descended, just a little, a little more, tensing up to see who that might be- 

NO! NO! Not again! Not again!

The gun went up, and he flared his wings, frantically trying to flap up- 

Xisuma’s two red eyes shone through his helmet, the end of the shotgun tracking Mumbo’s movements- 

Mumbo twisted frantically in the air- 

BANG! BANG! 

Two shots tore through the air. He felt the heat of the first go right over his head, the pellets whistling at the air, and the second-

Mumbo screamed as a slug tore through the membrane of his other wing, punching a huge hole in it. It was six inches from his stomach. 

It would have killed him instantly. 

Xisuma snapped his gun open, jamming two shells in- 

Mumbo swooped over Xisuma’s head and flew away as fast as his wings could carry him. 

X had shot him. Again. 

And this time, there’d been no trembling, no hesitation. 

Xisuma wanted him dead. 

Xisuma, the man he’d known since before he was allowed to drink , wanted him dead. 

Mumbo blinked the tears out of his eyes and continued to fly as fast as he could. 

Tango ran. 

He wasn’t sure when he’d lost the others, only that he had. The forest was sloping up, up, up, and there were moonstruck Hermits all around him. Respawn? Not on the cards, not for him. No sir.

An arrow whistled over his head, and Tango swallowed. His legs were starting to burn and his lungs really really hurt. 

Another arrow slammed into a nearby tree. Some encouragement to keep going, in the nastiest way possible. 

The fire inside him burned bright enough to set the moon ablaze, and he wanted nothing more than to start blasting fire indescriminately. Turn on his heel, plant both his feet, rip off his gloves, and turn night to day as he danced in the flames of his own creation.

But of course. It was Hermitcraft. 

Fire tick was off.

So his most effective party trick had been shot in the kneecaps long before moonrise. 

Arrows whistled through the air all around him, and Tango shivered. 

Quite apart from everything else, being hunted by his own friends through a dark forest where all he could hear was their shouting voices- 

-Yeah, that was definitely Welsknight, somewhere in that mess-

-It hurt his heart. It hurt, genuinely, to hear voices he knew so well baying for his blood. What had the moon done to them? Why had they looked at it?! Had they all gone insane?!

He stopped against a nearby tree, gasping for air. Blazes had better endurance than most mobs, but they were meant to chase intruders around their fortresses, not go for long-distance runs. And damn if Tango wasn’t out of practice on that. 

He spent a few seconds, catching his breath and thinking. 

An arrow loosed from his left, and he took off running again. 

Ahead, the trees just sort of- stopped? 

Ended, came to a halt. He couldn’t see anything beyond them besides stars- 

And Tango burst out of the trees, and came to a skidding halt at the edge of a massive cliff. 

Far, far below was a river, and Tango stared down at it, eyes wide. 

He glanced over his shoulder, and then down at the water. 

And he leapt out into the abyss. 

Stressmonster leaned against a tree, gasping for air. 

Her bees were swarming out of her clothes, crawling over her shoulders and neck in terror. 

“Go,” Stress coughed, “Find them! Find all of them! And bring them back to me!” 

Dozens of bees took off, flying in all directions, and then more, and more. The remaining bees stayed on her shoulders, swarming in agitation. 

Stress leaned her elbows against the tree and coughed again and again. She’d been running so hard, and for so long, and she needed…she needed…

Leaves rustled, and Stress flopped back against the tree. 

She slid down the trunk, and banged her head into it, just…sitting there. 

Surrounded by her beloved trees on all sides, Stress felt safe. Just slightly. The old oak she was using as a perch was shading her from the moon, and it felt so much safer here in its shadow. Pressed against the trees like this, the forest would hide her. Camouflage her against prying eyes. Until someone looked a little too closely.

Which was why staying put wasn’t a good idea, necessarily, but it would give her bees time to get back to her if they could. 

Stress stared up at the sky, praying that there was some hope of sunshine in the future. That maybe, just maybe, they could make Doc’s mad plan work. But that meant finding the others. That meant finding Impulse. That meant everyone staying alive. That meant-

Footsteps were approaching, and Stress went very, very still. Maybe if she was motionless, they wouldn’t see her? 

Voices, garbled human speech, echoed through the forest. She recognized some of them- Iskall? Gem? 

Something cold and scared churned in the pit of Stress’s stomach. 

“ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᓭᒷ リᒷ∴ ᓭ!¡ᒷᔑ∷ᓭ ᔑ∷ᒷ ⎓ᔑリℸ ̣ᔑᓭℸ ̣╎ᓵ. ⊣∷ᒷᔑℸ ̣ ╎↸ᒷᔑ, ⊣ᒷᒲ!” Iskall’s voice said, and he sounded very…pleased? 

“ℸ ̣⍑ᔑリꖌᓭ! ╎ ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ╎↸ᒷᔑ ⎓∷𝙹ᒲ ᔑ ᓭ!¡ᒷᔑ∷⊣⚍リ!”  Gem sounded proud of herself, and wasn’t that enough to make Stress even more terrified? 

Why did they sound so pleased? 

She took a deep breath, and held it. 

Footsteps crunched by a few feet to her left. 

She was so close, she could hear the faint motor whine from Iskall’s eyepiece. So close, she could hear Gem clear her throat. 

They stopped. Two feet to her left, they stopped. If she made a single sound- 

And then- 

They walked past. 

Stress let out the breath she’d been holding, uncoiling ever so slightly. 

Her bees were silent. She could hear the wind rustling through the forest. 

Stress panted, trying to make no noise, as the footsteps walked farther and farther away. 

She climbed to her feet, eyes glued on the ground. Creeping away. Avoid that twig. Don’t slip on that rock. Glance up, there’s a branch, duck it. The forest hides. The forest hides. The forest would protect her, its guardian, its favoured child- 

And then a loud buzz filled the air. 

“Message!” One of her bees screamed as she zipped in, “Message for you, landlady! I found the green one! And the Demon! They are-” 

“Shhhh!” Stress hissed, the bee landing on her shoulder- 

And cold panic shot through her veins. 

“ʖᒷ⍑╎リ↸ ⚍ᓭ. ╎ ⍑ᒷᔑ∷↸ ʖ⚍⨅⨅╎リ⊣. ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣’ᓭ ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ ʖᒷᒷᓭ ᓵ⍑ᔑ∷ᒲᒷ↸.” Iskall’s voice called. 

The footsteps were running towards her now, and she grabbed the bee and tossed it into the air. 

“Find Impulse!” she begged, “Bring him to me!” 

The bee took off, and Stress looked down and started to run. 

Something whistled over her head and slammed into the ground, and her eyes went wide. 

It was a long wooden stick with a single iron bar fused to the end. The iron bar had been sharpened into a deadly spike, the whole thing fused together by slime and leather. 

It was a spear. 

They’d made spears. 

Stress muffled a scream and took off running.

Chapter Text

Impulse was about ten seconds from shifting into his true form. 

They were being pursued. By who, he couldn’t say- he could hear voices through the trees, and that was all he cared to know. 

Behind him, Jevin and Cleo were bickering quietly- a stream of nonsensical noises that did none of them any good. It was just noise for noises’ sake, and considering none of them were especially stealthy, that wasn’t a good idea. 

Jevin’s feet slapped against the ground, Cleo’s limbs creaked, and he kept smacking branches with his wings. 

Still. No sign of Skizzleman yet, so that was something. 

A buzz filled the air, and the bickering fell silent. Impulse held out his cupped hand, and one of Stress’ bees landed on it. It buzzed its wings, turned, and took off, hovering in the air. Clearly, he needed to follow. 

Stress was trying to round all of them up.

“This way,” Impulse said, gesturing for the others to follow. 

They started tromping through the woods, and Impulse craned his neck up. The stars stared down at them, the unique conglomeration of distant worlds visible from their own slice of reality. 

A prison. They were trapped in a prison of their own making. No way in. No way out. 

Not while the moon glared at them, its red eye boiling over with hate. 

The bee led them faithfully onwards, and Impulse felt himself relax. Just a little bit. 

Until metal clanked and rattled ahead of them, and their little party of three stopped dead. 

Impulse swallowed as Welsknight stepped out of the forest, red eyes glowing. 

He was clutching a spear and had a nasty smile on his face.  The spear was tipped in- 

-was that copper?

Impulse felt a spike of fear shoot through him. Copper. One of the many ways to passively kill germs. Copper. One of the many, MANY things he couldn’t afford to have stabbed into him.

“Wels,” Impulse said, spreading his wings, “Get out of my way.” 

“╎ ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ᔑ !¡∷ᒷᓭᒷリℸ ̣ ⎓𝙹∷ ||ᔑ, ↸ᒷᒲ𝙹リ!”

Wels gripped the spear with both arms and CHARGED. 

It was long. Really, really long. Getting out of the way of that thing was a giant pain, and Impulse barely dodged the attack- 

Wels stepped back, and stabbed it forwards again- 

Impulse lunged. 

He grabbed the spear out of Wels’ hands, wrenching it free, and snapped it over his knee. 

“GET BACK!” he roared, his eyes flashing yellow. 

Wels reached into his inventory. 

Something inside of Impulse snapped. 

Fine. 

FINE. 

He wasn’t getting out of this any other way, was he? And at this point, if he lost his marbles- 

-Well. At least Skizz would have justification for putting him down like a rabid dog. 

Impulse threw his head back and howled.  

His body twisted and rippled, flesh ripping and tearing as his seven arms burst out of his torso. His feet twisted, arches growing long, as his dragonlike talons burst out of his shoes. His clothes absorbed into his flesh, his jaw broke and stretched, and from his head his crown of seven horns ripped up. His other wings burst out of his back, and his skin shifted to coal-black, his glowing yellow pustules rolling to the surface all across his body-

Impulse roared as his teeth and spines slid out, hypodermic yellow things, laden with diseases. His seven eyes snapped open, and he stared down at Welsknight. 

Impulse breathed in. He filled his lungs with poison.

And he exhaled…

…the common cold. 

And then he sneezed it right onto Welsknight’s face. 

Wels yelped and ran for his life. 

Impulse threw his head back and roared loud enough to shake the stars. 

It was a thunderclap in the dark forest. A demand. A challenge. 

Cleo rested a hand on one of his arms, wisely choosing a patch of skin without pustules or spikes. 

Impulse panted, eyes turning to stare at her, and then at the bee. It landed at the end of his massive muzzle, and turned to face where Stressmonster was.

It buzzed, and Impulse spread his wings. 

He grabbed Cleo in one arm, Jevin in the other, and leapt into the sky. 

Seven wings beat against the air like a drum, forcing Impulse higher and higher into the sky. Against the red light of the moon, his pustules glowed orange. 

His most deadly toys seethed inside their homes. Begging him to pull them off the shelf, to let them out to play. He had a germ for almost every occasion, and a few of his nastier toys could sort this whole situation out in less than a week…

…Permanently. 

Impulse shuddered. It didn’t even bear thinking about. He’d never, EVER use his weapons against his friends. Even moonstruck and half-insane, even gunning for his life, he wasn’t going to give in to his darker nature. 

He walked so the plague could run. But the plague didn’t need to be one that killed every soul it touched, now did it? 

The common cold was a plague too, and it could race around the world three times over while the healers were still lacing up their boots. 

Impulse tipped forwards, and charged through the sky. 

He needed to find Stressmonster. 

Ren was exhausted. 

He’d heard Impulse’s roar in the distance, a desperate, enraged thing. But roaring a reply, letting Impulse hear him, was just suicidal at that point. 

He was still being chased. He’d narrowed his pursuers down- Joe Hills and Joel, based on the sounds of their voices. And wasn’t that just a knife to the guts- he’d known both of them for years, and here they were, trying to skin him for a fashionable coat.

And it was hell. 

Ren skidded to a stop, gasping for air. He just needed a rest. Please just let him rest. Please- 

Arrows burst through the undergrowth, slamming into the ground around him, and Ren barely dragged his exhausted feet away from his pursuers. 

They’d been doing this for what felt like hours. He’d sprint a few hundred yards away, pant to catch his breath, and they’d just walk up and start tossing more spears. 

It was madness! Absolute madness! Were they ever going to get TIRED?! 

Come on, Joe spent more time reading books in a comfy chair than hitting the gym. He wasn’t Stress-

Ren sprinted away, skidding to a stop as he tried to force the heat out of his body, tried to fill his ragged lungs- 

Footsteps crashed through the undergrowth. 

Ren heard laughter. 

They were so close. Ren was so tired. Why were they laughing? What was this?

He glanced up at the sky around the moon. This was a sick, sick joke by a god that hated him. 

More arrows whistled out of the darkness, and Ren took off running. He could hear water in the distance. Maybe- maybe-

Maybe he could- 

Ren burst out of the trees on the banks of a river, and, lacking any other options, threw himself into the water and started to swim. 

Arrows whistled overhead, and Ren just kept dog-paddling his way into the middle of the river. The water was cold and the current was strong, and immediately it started washing him downstream.

A voice screamed out, and Ren glanced over his shoulder. 

Tango! 

Tango, soaking wet, hair sticking to his face, frantically flailing against the current as they were both swept downstream. Ren swam his way over to Tango, let the other Hermit grab onto his back-fur- 

And for the first time since he’d changed forms, Ren felt safe. 

They were being pushed towards Gem’s base. Specifically, towards her boat. 

Ren’s eyes were drawn to a flag someone had run up the mast of her ship. 

It was red, with a diagonal white line running through it. 

What did that mean?

Doc jumped. 

He grabbed the rock above him, and hauled himself upwards. And there he was, standing on the snow, near the top of the mountain. Under the cruel red light of the bloodmoon, the expanse of ice and snow looked red.

Doc shivered, and not just because of the cold. 

From up here, he could see a very long way. An ocean of trees all around him, and in the distance, some of the hermit’s builds. He had very little hope that this was far enough to be safe, but- 

A breather was welcome. 

He needed to get back, was the worst part. Get back to Impulse and the others. His plan hinged on Impulse luring away Skizz. 

There wasn’t anything else for it. Skizz, in this state, might try to force-heal his damaged organs. The ones he used cybernetics to support. The cybernetics that were powered by culling the excess gunpowder from Doc’s blood. 

Healing him such that those cybernetics were unneeded…well. Doc had done the math. 

The odds were very good that the biggest consequence would be a buildup of gunpowder in his major organs…followed by a catastrophic and fatal explosion the first time his blood pressure spiked.

Creeper hybrids weren’t supposed to be able to explode. 

He had a condition that stated otherwise.  

The consequences of losing his cybernetics…Doc didn’t want to think about it. 

The stars were staring at him. Still unaffected, twinkling down. Laughing at him, laughing at them. 

An arrow whistled over his head, and Doc redoubled his efforts, climbing as fast as he could. He wasn’t being quick enough, and- 

A quick glance back showed Etho and Gem scaling the mountain behind him, red eyes glowing out of the darkness. 

Doc continued to climb, and climb, until he was standing at the peak. Cold wind whistled all around him, bloodred snow sunk up to his ankles, and he leaned against the sharp rock of the mountain and stared down at Etho and False. They were getting closer and closer, hopping up from rock to rock. Doc felt faintly thankful that they didn’t have a gun. 

He took a moment at the peak to look around. There, in the distance, he could see his hourglass, and the many builds of the shopping district.  Doc furrowed his brow. He looked down, and saw a stream of water trickling down the peak. 

Without any items, without any inventory, without any weapons, he was dead meat. But he did have one thing. 

Doc had a plan. 

He leapt from the peak. 

Wind whipped around him, flapping his labcoat and mussing his fur as he fell and fell and fell. 

The water was getting closer.

Doc landed in it with a splash, and went sliding down the mountain, washed along by the current. 

Red light turned the water purple, and he furrowed his brows. 

He had a plan. A chance. 

This had to work, or they were all doomed. 

Ren was many things, but a fast swimmer in his wolf form was not one of those things. He paddled at the water frantically, all four of his legs kicking as he frantically tried to keep them going in a straight line. And with Tango sitting on his back, Ren was even slower. 

They had to keep going. They just had to.

They passed by Gem’s ship, with its strange red flag. 

Something brushed against Ren’s toes, and he yelped in fright. 

Tango nearly got bucked off, and he yelled. 

“Gtc! Lwpi’h lgdcv, bpc?”

Ren shivered, and kept swimming. Come on, they were so close to shore-

A clawed hand grabbed his ankle, and yanked him down. 

Ren screamed as he suddenly sank below the water, Tango yelling too as they were both immersed in the cold of the river. 

Through the gloom, Ren could see four specks of red staring back at him. Through waterlogged ears, he heard a hiss- 

He broke surface, frantically trying to breathe. Air- air- 

Tango’s screams were gargled by the water, and- 

A huge weight slammed into Ren’s back, grabbing him by the throat, and trying to press him into the water. A glance over his shoulder- 

Keralis?! 

Keralis, knife in one hand and a snorkel and goggles on his face, red eyes glowing through the glass, was trying to wrestle Ren into the water. Ren panicked, rolling over and tossing Keralis off- 

Tango-!

He saw a flash of red and yellow and grabbed it with one hand, dragging it up as he tried to swim into the river- 

Tango broke surface, coughing and spluttering, and the two of them swam-

Only for xB to breach right in front of them, spear in hand, and Tango- 

Tango thrust his arms up and blasted xB with a stream of fire, a panic-shocked shout tearing out of him. xB’s hoodie hissed, and didn’t burn. 

It was too wet. 

He splashed back into the water, and Ren could see a snorkel approaching them- 

He turned, and started frantically paddling for shore. But Keralis and xB were so, SO much faster than them-

Ren spun, slashing his mighty claws at a patch of moving water. His talons hit xB’s armour and slid right off, scarring the scutes and not damaging them. 

The waves moved closer, and Tango screamed as Keralis jabbed a knife at him- 

Ren threw his head back and howled with all his might. 

His howl echoed off the canyon walls and into the night, a desperate scream for help. Praying, hoping, pleading, that someone would hear, that someone would come for them-

White-hot pain lanced through his side, and Ren glanced over his shoulder to see a spear sticking out of him, sunk all the way to the wood. 

Chapter Text

Ren could barely keep his snout above water. Kicking his legs, unable to tread, flailing and struggling to keep himself upright. His blood was drifting across the water, as was Tango’s. Glowing orange blood mixing with tainted werewolf blood, the waves lapping at both. 

Ren howled again, and a mighty shadow passed over the moon. 

Something huge and heavy slammed into the beach in front of them, and Ren howled one more time, the breath in his lungs starting to burn- 

This time, the howl became a duet, as a deep, bone-shaking roar joined him. The primal, feral scream of an enraged demon, echoing off the water and the cliffs. 

Ren glanced up-

And Impulse, in all his glory, stomped towards the water. Cleo and Jevin stood on the shore, looking shell-shocked and confused, as Impulse waded into the water, yellow pus beading in his mouth. 

To Ren’s relief, xB and Keralis decided they suddenly had better things to do, and he watched as both of them swam away as fast as their flippers and tail could carry them. 

Ren grabbed Tango by the collar and dragged him to shore, where Impulse was waiting with seven open arms. 

“Pgt ndj vjnh dzpn? Dw, Vds! Ipcvd, ndj’gt qattsxcv! Gtc- iwpi hetpg-” Impulse said, and Tango smiled. 

He grabbed Impulse by one massive arm, brought it close, and gave it a hug. 

“Bpc pb X vaps id htt ndj,” Tango said, letting Impulse go, and giving Ren a good look at the huge slash across his chest. 

Keralis had gone right through Tango’s clothing, and the wound was now weeping glowing Blaze blood, staining Tango’s clothes and making them more prone to fire. Ren’s shoulder muscles ached, the spear embedded in them tuned down to a dull thumping. Shock, likely, which…definitely wasn’t good. 

Impulse gestured at both of them to follow him, and Ren and Tango nodded. 

And their little party set off into the forest. 

They’d met up with Doc sometime into their wandering. Which Impulse was grateful for, because there was definitely safety in numbers. 

What he wasn’t so grateful for was Doc apparently losing his goddamned mind in the last couple of probably-hours.

The man had dragged them to the shopping district, of all places. Where there was no cover, no shelter, nothing. All so he could root around in his own ender chest? 

Ren was bleeding from the spear stuck in his shoulder. Tango was leaning on Cleo for support, trying not to pick at the clotting wound on his chest. Both of them were limping, and they needed medical attention of some kind soon. 

Impulse was sure he’d already passively infected them with his presence. Not infecting perfectly healthy and whole people was one thing, but people with open wounds?

And there was Doc, wasting precious time digging through his junk collection. Impulse’s eyes bugged out of his head as he witnessed this amazing waste of precious time. Instead of something useful like a first-aid kit, Doc was pulling out junk . A pack of cards. A bag of chips, to make even more noise. A clock. A fidget cube. A length of copper chain. Perfect for stealth.

A can of soda. 

A bag of candy. 

Doc stuffed his pile of garbage into a canvas bag, and Impulse loudly cleared his throat and jabbed two of his hands in the direction of their injured friends. 

Doc nodded, withdrawing his medical bag, and slammed the lid of the ender chest shut. Thank god, finally some common sense. 

Doc stood up, nodding at Impulse. His bag of useless crap rattled and made a ton of noise, and Impulse sighed. 

“Okay, fine. You got your useless junk. Now, uh, can you maybe, I don’t know, HELP?”

Impulse punctuated his statement by jabbing his hands at Ren and Tango, and Doc nodded. 

He approached Ren, and patted his friend on the side. 

“Hipn hixaa, iwxh xh vdxcv id wjgi...p adi.” Doc said, opening his doctor’s bag and taking out a pair of cutters and some antiseptic.

As Doc tended to the hermits, Impulse straightened up to keep watch. They were really exposed out here, and there was no telling where anyone was. His wings itched to take to the air, but- 

-Well, that would mean leaving Tango and Ren alone. And Impulse wasn’t in the mood for that. 

His ears pricked up, and he turned his mighty head to look away from Ren’s hisses of pain. 

Footsteps were approaching them. Bold and confident, a single person strolling towards them. They were unhurried, too- one after another. Not running. A sedate, casual walk. 

Impulse felt something cold crawling down his mighty back. 

He took a step forward. 

The others shrank back. 

Zed was strolling out of the darkness. Alone. He didn’t have a spear, or a knife, or even any backup. He was smiling, too- confident and unafraid. Piercing red eyes swallowing a ring of purple lost within. Glaring straight through Impulse. 

Zed stopped a few steps away, and Impulse- 

-He couldn’t so much as breathe.

“∴ᒷꖎꖎ, ∴ᒷꖎꖎ, ∴ᒷꖎꖎ, ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ↸𝙹 ∴ᒷ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ?” Zed said, a huge smile on his face, “ᓭ𝙹⚍ꖎᓭ ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ|| ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸リ’ℸ ̣ ʖᒷ? ∴ᒷ’ꖎꖎ ᓭᒷᒷ ᔑʖ𝙹⚍ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣!”

Zed’s scythe was strapped to his back. He brought his hands up to his face and peeled off one glove, and then the other.

He reached back and grabbed his weapon.

Impulse felt his pustules contract. There was nothing he could do. Nothing. The light of the moon ebbed as the darkness swallowed Zed. 

They couldn’t run. They couldn’t hide. With night as his cloak, the Reaper was unstoppable. 

Impulse took a step back. He glanced over his shoulder, ready to tell the others to run, that he’d hold Zed off, just for a few minutes- 

The moonlight snapped back to full strength, and Impulse whipped his head forwards.

To see Zedeath, cloak and all, clutching his head. 

Wait, what? 

“Wha…?” Zedeath said, grabbing his head with his free hand, “What’s…” 

Impulse’s eyes went wide. 

“Zed,” He said slowly, “Zed, can you understand me, buddy?”

“I…yes?” Zedeath said slowly, “Oh, my word, my HEAD…” 

Impulse swallowed a lump of prions, and shuffled forward. 

“Zed,” He said carefully, “Can you look at me?” 

And the reaper did. 

Two eyes, shadowed over by Death. 

Not a touch of moonlight. Not a hint of red. 

Cold relief washed over Impulse, his muscles going limp as he realized. 

Zedeath was a monster, just like them. 

And the moon couldn’t touch him anymore.

“Zed!” Impulse said, “Can you- can you understand us?” 

“I…think…so?” Zedeath said, slowly sitting on the ground, “Impulse…my head. My head hurts. I can’t…” 

Doc rushed up. 

“Ots, rpc ndj jcstghipcs bt? Rpc ndj igpchapit udg jh?”

“Translate?” Zedeath repeated, “I…yes…?” 

Impulse flared his wings. 

“Zed. Can you ask Doc what his plan is? Please? For me?”

“If I do, do you promise,” Zed mumbled after a long pause, “To…shut up…and leave me alone? My head…Impulse, it hurts…”

“Lt egdbxht. X’aa vxkt ndj- X wpkt phexgxc! Ldjas iwpi wtae?” Doc offered a bottle, shaking it. 

“Aspirin…would help. Yes.” Zedeath gasped, “It…hurts. My head…hurts. I…why was I so angry? Where am I? Went to sleep…woke up…scared, and then angry…”

Doc and Impulse shared a look.

“Zed,” Impulse said gently, “Please…”

“Yes. Right. Impulse wants to know…your…plan, Doc,” He croaked, clutching his head.

Doc nodded grimly. 

“Lt ctts id uxcs Bjbqd, pcs xhdapit Qsjqh. Xbejaht cttsh id sxhigpri Hzxoo lwxat Bjbqd rpggxth Qsjqh id wxh rdcipxcbtci rjqt. X btti iwtb iwtgt. Pcs iwtc X- X ign id uxm iwxh. Udg tktgndct.”

Zedeath coughed.

“Doc says…find Mumbo. Take Bdubs…to Mumbo’s containment cube. Then Doc’ll…try…something. My head, oh, god, my head…” 

“It’s okay,” Impulse said gently, “It’s okay, Zed. It’s-”

Impulse swallowed. 

“Zed. Can you ask Doc how he knows this is going to work? Bdubs can’t fight a bloodmoon. Not normally. How…?” 

Zedeath nodded.

“Doc. Impulse wants to know…how you know…this is going to work.”

Doc chuckled bitterly. 

“X sdc’i. X sdc’i zcdl iwpi iwxh xh vdxcv id ldgz, Ots. X wpkt p wjcrw, iwpi’h paa. Lt sdc’i wpkt p lwdat adi taht id vd dc, sd lt? P wjcrw, pcs cdiwxcv bdgt.”

Zedeath grunted, and whimpered in pain.

“Doc says…he doesn’t know. If it’ll work. He has a hunch. That’s all.” 

Impulse took a deep breath. A hunch, huh? A hunch. 

“Twenty-eight lives on a roll of the fucking dice, huh, Doc?” Impulse spat. 

The rage leaked out of him, shoulders sagging. 

“And it’s the best we’ve got. I certainly don’t have a plan.” 

He hung his head, and looked at Zedeath mournfully. 

“Can you ask Doc why he thinks this gamble is going to work?” Impulse asked, voice low.”

Zedeath nodded. 

“Impulse wants…to know. Why you think…the gamble. Will work?” 

Doc smiled weakly. 

“X sdc’i wpkt p adi id vd dc. X iwxcz, xu Qsjqh xh dct lxiw iwt bddc, wxh gxijpa bxvwi ldgz. Pcs X iwxcz...X iwxcz lt’kt paa wps tcdjvw kxdatcrt pcs utpg udg p axutixbt. X iwxcz...xu X ign p bdgt etprtuja epiw...lt bpn wpkt qtiitg gthjaih. Bpnqt. Edhhxqan.”

Zedeath wheezed, and groaned in pain.

“Doc says…if Bdubs is under the moon…the ritual might work. And he says…he wants to give peace a chance.”

Everyone snorted. Impulse shook his head, and smiled. 

“It’s the best we’ve got. I certainly don’t have a plan. Alright, fine. Whatever you want to try, Doc…I’m on board.” 

Doc, despite not understanding a word out of his mouth, smiled. 

“Can you go, now?” Zedeath whimpered, “Please. The noise…hurts my head.” 

Footsteps staggered up. Wrenched the aspirin out of Doc’s hands. Stumbled over to Zedaph, and fell to his knees beside the fallen Reaper. 

Tango, dripping glowing Blaze blood, undid the cap and removed a pill, placing it in Zed’s free hand. 

“Wtgt,” Tango said softly, “Utta qtiitg, Ots.” 

“Tango…” The reaper said softly, “Thank you, Tango.” 

He took the pill, swallowing it down, and closing his eyes. 

Tango placed a hand on Zedeath’s shoulder. 

“Rpc ndj...sd bt p upkdjg, Ots? Egdbxht bt ndj ldc’i ati vd du ndjg hrniwt ixaa hjcje. Eatpht.”

“Hold my scythe…till sunup,” Zedeath repeated, “I…I can try, Tango. For you, I can try.” 

Tango shook out two more pills, hands trembling, and placed them into Zed’s hand.

“Ipzt iwtb xu xi wjgih bdgt. Dct pi p ixbt. Dzpn?”

Zed nodded. 

“One pill at a time. Only if it hurts. Okay.” 

Tango stood up, and stumbled over to Doc.

Impulse swallowed. 

“Zed,” he said carefully, “We’re going to move on, alright? Are you okay here?” 

Zedeath nodded. 

“I’m okay.” He repeated, “I’ll just…watch the stars.”

“Good.” Impulse said, and he gestured for the others to follow him deeper into the woods.

The moon wasn’t moving, and neither was Doc’s clock, which meant that he had no idea how much time had passed when they finally met up with the others. Guided by the bee on Impulse’s nose, they met up in a clearing, Stress and Mumbo standing there uncomfortably. 

Doc stepped forwards and tore the bark off the nearest birch tree, quickly sketching out a diagram of his plan and holding it up for the others to see.

“Mumbo,” he said, “You and me are together. Everyone else, you’re on bear-baiting duty. Mumbo, you’re going to grab Bdubs and drag him to YOUR containment cube. I’ll meet you there. Everyone else…try not to die. Sound good?” 

This was met with a wall of blank stares, and Doc sighed.

Mumbo tapped his own chest, and then pointed at the drawing.

“Bt? Lwn bt?” And from the sound of his voice, Doc could hear the confusion. Instead of speaking, he flapped his free arm to mime a wing.

“...Dw.” Mumbo sighed, shoulders sagging.

“Any questions?” Doc asked, tapping on the question mark he’d drawn on the page.

Tango, a bandage freshly secured around his chest, raised a hand. He pointed at himself, his injury, and then at Ren. 

Ren was limping, badly. Doc hadn’t pulled the spear point out, just cut off the shaft and left it in place, wrapping it well with gauze to soak up the blood and keep it clean. He was scared if he tried pulling it out, Ren might bleed to death. That was a wound that probably needed his operating theatre and the other trained Hermits on standby, if potions didn’t work.

…And most of those hermits were currently running around with spears themselves. 

Hell, he’d settle for Skizzleman to remember his duty of care. Or, if that was impossible, for Skizz to remember his own name. Doc wasn’t a choosy person, really. 

Without any options, or any potions, or literally anything, Doc had done his best.

He nodded, looking around in concern.

Doc gestured into the woods. 

“Hide. You two hide. Don’t make noise, don’t move. Got it?”

And to emphasize his point, he mimed crouching on the ground and covering his head. 

Tango and Ren shared a look, and they both nodded.

“Good. We don’t have a lot of time.” 

Impulse nodded once. 

He spread his wings and flung himself into the air, flapping up, up, up. Mumbo, nervously, followed him.

The other Hermits set off into the woods, and Doc turned on his heel and walked away from them.

Leaving the battle to come, and praying he’d be understood. 

He watched Ren and Tango slink into the bushes. 

Doc gripped his toolbag tighter.

The popcan rattled against the fidget cube. 

And he kept walking. 

Chapter Text

Mumbo crept through the trees, pressing himself against the trunk, eyes narrowed. 

With the aid of Stress’ bees, they’d been able to track down the other Hermits. All around him, Mumbo could hear the heartbeats of the others getting into their positions. With the obvious exception of Jevin, seeing as he didn’t have a heart. 

Through a gap in the leaves, Mumbo could see Bdubs, milling around. Floating directly above him, illuminating the forest with the kind light of the sun, was Skizzleman. His wheels turned slowly, the hundreds of eyes embedded in each one darting around manically. Skizz couldn’t sit still in general, and now with the moon amping up his craziness…

Mumbo’s heart ached a little. Poor Skizz. He didn’t deserve this. 

Unfortunately, thinking on Skizz just refocused Mumbo’s thoughts to getting everyone out of this horrid situation. And Bdubs wasn’t alone- Iskall was standing there, head craned back, staring up at the sky. False was leaning against a tree, and Beef was sitting on the ground, sharpening the iron point of a spear with a piece of sandstone cobble. 

Others were emerging from the woods, and Mumbo took a few deep breaths. They hadn’t been noticed yet, but that was about to change. Any second now. Any second now, something was about to go catastrophically wrong. 

The apocalypse arrived wreathed in snot. 

Impulse burst out of the trees and roared loud enough to shake the stars. He sneezed, spraying snot on every single one of the human hermits. Every breath curled away in the night air, filling the lungs of every human with god only knew what. 

Skizz wheeled on Impulse, rings starting to spin, and he bellowed: 

“YOU ARE SICK. YOU WILL BE WELL.” 

Impulse’s great jaws split open into a smile showing far, far too many teeth.

He sucked in a breath.

And vomited a blast of pure filth straight at his best friend. 

The wall of virulence splattered all over Skizz, sinking into his wings and coating his rings and blinding his eyes. 

Impulse bellowed a challenge that echoed through the night, the words lost on Mumbo’s ears.

Skizz’s wheels started to turn. Faster and faster, a blinding blur, the air screaming louder and louder as the speed increased- 

Mumbo dove for the ground, clapping his hands over his ears as the whistling screeched, louder and louder-

“YOU ARE SICK. YOU WILL BE WELL.” Skizz’s emotionless voice boomed. 

The trees shook with the impact as Skizz’s wheels broke the sound barrier. 

Impulse laughed, and flung himself into the air, mighty wings powering him up into the sky. 

“RPIRW BT XU NDJ RPC!” Impulse roared, and Skizz- 

With a toneless howl he shot into the sky like a missile, a swirling ball wreathed in flame and light. 

 Booms and roars echoed through the air, the sky lighting up with blasts of flame and screeches of terror. 

The human hermits crawled back out of the forest, and Mumbo gripped the tree, tensing his muscles. Skizz was gone. Impulse was risking his very soul for this distraction. And now it was all up to him. 

He just had to be…patient. 

As the others slowly emerged, Mumbo kept his eyes on them. 

False, and Gem, and there was Keralis and xB. All of them were regrouping, and Grian flapped in, landing on a tree. Mumbo felt a spike of ice ram through his heart as he watched his best friend staring silently down at the others. Watching. Waiting.

Xisuma emerged from the bushes too, and Mumbo swallowed, trying to breathe as quietly as possible.

 He just needed an opening. 

Bdubs came out a second later, a furious Iskall trailing behind him. That scowl on such a familiar face had Mumbo’s heart aching. He tore his eyes away from Iskall and stared at Bdubs. 

Don’t mix up the greens, or they were all dead. 

He just needed a distraction, come on, come on-

Stress stepped into the clearing, brought her fingers to her lips, and whistled as loud as she could. 

The moon-maddened Hermits whipped their heads around to look, and Stress extended her arms- 

And released bees in their thousands from every hole in her arms. 

The swarm of bees dove at the gathering, a sickening buzz filling the air, and Mumbo burst out of the bushes, blasting bees away with decisive flaps of his wings. He ducked a sword-swing from a screaming False. Dodged a spear from a shouting, panicked Iskall. 

Mumbo grabbed Bdubs by the waist and threw himself into the air with a few mighty flaps, panting and shaking as cold triumph rattled through his bones. 

Wingbeats behind him caught his attention, and Mumbo glanced back to see- 

Grian, wings spread, charging straight at him.

A torch roared to life in Iskall’s hand, the flames blazing bright. A few slashes at the air drove the bees back, and a furious shout sprang a torch to the hand of every hermit in the area. 

Stress took a frightened step back, only for a cold hand to plant itself on her shoulder. 

She glanced back, and Cleo grinned at her. 

“With me, eh?” 

Cleo nodded. 

They both lunged. 

Stress swung her claws, aiming for Joel. Four sharp slashes slid across his chest, and she glanced over- 

-Mumbo was flying away. She could see him taking off, with Bdubs in his arms. 

Triumph burst through Stress, relief and desperation, and she spun around, ducking an iron blade clutched in False’s hand. Cleo grabbed her, pulled her out of the way, and- 

False swung, stabbing her sword forward- 

It stabbed straight through Cleo’s side and burst out the other side with a spray of rotted flesh and blood. 

False hadn’t hit anything important, apparently. 

Cleo chuckled, wound up a balled fist, and punched False in the face. False toppled over backwards, and Cleo ripped the sword out of their guts and gave it a spin. 

“HIGTHH! ATI’H VTI HDBT QTTH, NTPW?!”

Stress leapt to her feet and snapped her fingers, bees pouring out of her arms as she slid up behind Cleo to cover her friend’s back.

xB stared down at her, spear in his hands, and Stress narrowed her eyes. 

She lunged. 

Jevin slipped back into the woods, his see-bulbs scanning the battlefield for his target. Because there was no way his friend wasn’t going to come out to play.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Iskall backed away from the ball of chaos in the middle of the field, slinking back into the bushes. Approaching another set of glowing eyes. 

Weird. But Cleo, Cleo was using her insane strength to shove Beef onto his ass, her sword strikes to drive False back. She was fine…for the moment. 

Stress wasn’t. 

Jevin kept creeping, looking for an opening from which to strike. 

 So focused was he that Jevin didn’t notice until he ran straight into something tall and cold and made of metal. 

He turned his head slowly to stare into the crazed red eyes of Welsknight. 

Jevin unhinged his jaw. 

“Wels. Get out of my fucking way.” Jevin hissed. 

“||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ !¡ᔑ|| ⎓𝙹∷ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ↸╎↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ⋮ᒷ⍊╎リ.” Wels said, and he drew his sword and spat on the ground. 

Jevin’s see-bulbs twisted up in a smile. 

Wels raised his sword- 

And Jevin pulled his own bones apart. Pulled his borrowed skeleton assunder, widened the gap between his own bones. 

Blade stabbed into slime, and sank in, and Jevin clamped his slime down around it and took a step back, wrenching the blade from Wels’ hand. 

He grabbed the sword with his own hand, pulled it out of his guts, and swung at Wels. 

“BACK OFF.” Jevin snarled, slashing madly, “I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU, WELSKNIGHT.” 

Wels narrowed his eyes, stepping back, and pulled a torch and a shield out of his inventory. 

He dodged the sword, parried the next hit with the shield, and stabbed the torch at Jevin. 

Blazing timber hit slime, and Jevin screamed in pain. He jumped back, see-bulbs narrowed. 

“Okay. Okay. You wanna play like that? We’ll play like that.” 

Jevin jumped, raised the sword, and brought it down on Wels’ shield with a thunderous BANG. 

Wels staggered back, stuffing his torch in his inventory and pulling out a netherite hoe. Wels gave it a twirl, and lunged. 

Jevin barely parried the hit, steel striking netherite with a deafening CLANG. Jevin stumbled back, slime sloshing, and Wels wound up- 

And stabbed the hoe into Jevin’s slime. 

It didn’t hurt. It couldn’t. Internal organs were for losers, after all. 

“Big mistake,” Jevin chuckled, getting ready to disarm Wels yet again- 

Except. Before Jevin could grab onto the hoe and pull it in, Wels hooked it around Jevin’s borrowed pelvis and tore it out of the slime with a feral scream. Those two seconds of cocky laughter were just the opening Wels was waiting for. 

The bleached-white bone hit the ground with a splat, and Jevin crumpled to a heap in the leaf litter. Without his pelvis, he couldn’t support his own weight. He couldn’t stand, much less maintain his own shape. 

But the pelvis was right there. He just needed to- absorb it- 

Wels raised an armoured boot and stomped on the pelvis with all his might. It cracked, and then another stomp snapped it in half. 

Jevin’s see-bulbs stared up at Wels as he stomped on it, once, twice, three times, leaving nothing but shards of bone. 

“⎓𝙹∷ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ↸╎↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ⋮ᒷ⍊╎リ, ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ ╎ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ꖎᒷᔑᓭℸ ̣ ╎ ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ↸𝙹.” Wels said, his voice so faux-polite it hurt to hear. He gave a mocking bow. And then, in a move very unbecoming of a knight, he gave Jevin the finger. 

And Wels walked away. 

Jevin, sprawled on the ground, was unable to walk. He couldn’t even drag himself with his arms- he’d pick up every rock, twig, and leaf along his path, and that would take hours to pick out of his body. Not to mention, he'd leave a trail of slime dragging behind himself, and gathering all his goo back would take days. His only other option was-

Jevin shed every bone in his body and started to desperately ooze across the ground to safety. 

He was moving slightly slower than a snail. 

A gunshot echoed through the clearing, and Stress spun her head to see Xisuma, gunsmoke curling from his barrels. She thrust an arm out, sending several bees to mob him- 

Only to realize they didn’t have a prayer of getting through Xiusma’s armour. Stress shivered, as Xisuma marched closer and closer- 

He aimed his gun in the air and fired at- nothing? 

Stress looked up.  Nothing? Nothing- 

“ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷||ʖ𝙹↸|| ⊣ᒷℸ ̣ ʖᔑᓵꖌ!” Iskall bellowed, “⍑||!¡リ𝙹’ᓭ ⊣𝙹╎リ⊣ ╎リ ⍑𝙹ℸ ̣!”

Stress watched in terror as False just- turned and ran. Dropped everything and went sprinting into the trees. Beef, xB, Keralis, they all just turned and fled as fast as their legs could carry them. 

“Wdas dc, lwpi-” Cleo said, “IWPI’H RWTPIXCV! VTI QPRZ WTGT!” 

Stress whipped her head around, grabbing Cleo by the arm. 

She snapped her fingers, jabbing a desperate claw as Hypno sauntered into the clearing. 

His eyes were glowing red, just like the rest of them, and he had a small, pained smile on his face. 

Hypno reached up and pulled his psychic dampener off.

Chapter Text

Mumbo folded his wings in and dove for the ground in a desperate bid to build up speed. 

In the distance, he could hear screams of agony- Stress and Cleo, yelling in pain. But whatever was happening behind him- he couldn’t turn back. He couldn’t help. Because- 

Bdubs was struggling in his arms, thrashing and trying to get free. Instinct rose up to a snarl in his throat, a desperate desire to pacify his prey and sink his fangs in-

Mumbo mentally smacked himself across the face. No. No. No. And also, NO. That wasn’t happening, now or ever.

Even with this much on the line, he wasn’t going to entrance any of his friends. No. 

His fangs were dripping with venom, and he snarled, forcing his attention to the ground. The cave was close. So close. So- 

A foot slammed into his back, and Mumbo flailed. His damaged wings and lack of experience nearly sent him and Bdubs tumbling from the sky, and Mumbo glanced over his shoulder to see Grian flapping up for another hit. 

Mumbo folded in his wings and dove for the forest below. 

Here, in the air, Grian was going to beat him cross-eyed and send him and Bdubs tumbling towards the ground. 

Bdubs would respawn. 

Mumbo wasn’t so sure about himself. 

He flared his wings with the treetops smacking Bdubs’ shoes, and shot up into the night. 

Hypno’s headband came off and instantly Cleo’s reality flipped on its head. 

They screamed, sinking to the ground, clutching their head in desperation. 

Hypno’s rage felt like a storm thundering into shore, all-consuming clouds stacking higher and higher until the whole sky was swallowed by them. And with them, a torrent, a waterfall of disjointed, nonsensical words. Cleo’s own thoughts lost in the maelstrom, like trying to catch jumping fish with salad tongs- 

RED you little fuckers RED you’re gonna pay for what you did RED to jevin and everyone else I dont RED you wanna do this to my friends RED my family RED youre gonna suffer for that RED  cold metal rip it out RED stolen flesh strip it off RED gonna see- 

Time twisted and Cleo could feel the burning pain of her arm being jammed between a piston and a stone wall, crunched in place, pinched and desperate to get it out. She screamed, and Hypno’s voice came out of her mouth- 

Reality inverted again, colours swirling like paint down a drain, and there was a sword in her stomach, bright red blood pouring out of her body, only for the burning tingle of respawn to claim her an instant later-

And she respawned falling, watching the mountain recede above her. Turned over, feeling the wind whipping at her trenchcoat and bandana, as the cliff plummetted into the depths of one of the brand new caves, huge dripstone spikes looming large like fanged teeth. She tumbled over, early-game hotbar bereft of a water bucket or a prayer, and landed chest first on a dripstone spike with a burst of pain- 

The rage ebbed. The hurricane of thought calmed. 

Cleo screamed back to reality, stars dancing in her eyes. Beside her, Stress was shaking, gasping for air, and a few steps away- 

It hurt. Their brain hurt. Like knives stabbing at every synapse. They screamed soundlessly at the sky- why oh why had God allowed carbon to think, why oh why- 

Hypno had fallen to his knees, face red, looking like he was going to be sick. He’d jammed his dampener back on, tears streaking down his face, and he fell over on his side, gasping for air. 

Footsteps rushed up all around, and Cleo felt- 

Exhausted. Their head hurt so badly, a pounding attack that stripped the thoughts from their mind. A familiar face swam into view. Green glasses, pierced ears, trimmed beard, blue shirt, fishnet gloves. 

Joe. Looming over her, staring down at her. 

Cleo lifted a weak, desperate arm- 

He smacked it out of the way, flipped them over, and tied their wrists together. 

Cleo went limp. 

Their head…

They lifted their head as footsteps shuffled closer, and Cleo rolled onto her side. 

Hypno had climbed to his feet, tears streaming down his face, and shoved himself between Joe and Cleo. His face was red, and he shook his head. 

“↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣. ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣!” Hypno shouted, “╎- ╎- ∴ᒷ ᓵᔑリ’ℸ ̣ ꖌ╎ꖎꖎ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᒲ!”

Joe tilted his head, and Cleo sucked in a breath. Hypno sounded- frantic? Panicked?

Hypno sniffled, wiping the tears off his face. 

“╎ ᓭᔑ∴- ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣- ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣- ╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ╎⎓ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣’ᓭ ᓵꖎᒷ𝙹. ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||’∷ᒷ ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ. ⋮𝙹ᒷ, ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ||'∷ᒷ ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ, ᓭ⍑ᒷ’ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ╎リ⊣- ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ’ᓭ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣ ꖎᒷ⎓ℸ ̣ ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ. ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ꖌ╎ꖎꖎ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᒲ!”

Iskall stepped forward and planted a hand on Hypno’s shoulders. 

“↸⚍↸ᒷ. ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷリ’ℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ⍑ᔑ↸ ᔑ ᒲ╎⊣∷ᔑ╎リᒷ ᓭ╎リᓵᒷ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ᓭ⚍リ ∴ᒷリℸ ̣ ↸𝙹∴リ? ⍑𝙹∴ ᓵᔑリ ||𝙹⚍ ʖᒷ ᓭ⚍∷ᒷ?”

Hypno’s shoulders slumped. 

“╎ ᓵᔑリ’ℸ ̣. ╎ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣- ╎ ᓭᔑ∴- ╎ ᓭᔑ∴ ᔑ ᒲᒷᒲ𝙹∷|| ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ⎓∷𝙹ᒲ ʖ𝙹ℸ ̣⍑ 𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᒲ. ╎ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ- ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣- ╎⎓ ∴ᒷ ∷ᒷᓭℸ ̣∷ᔑ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᒲ, ᔑリ↸ ꖎᒷᔑ⍊ᒷ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷᒲ- ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ∴ᒷ ᓵᔑリ ⎓╎リ↸ ᔑ ᓵ⚍∷ᒷ. ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ’ᓭ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣ ꖎᒷ⎓ℸ ̣ ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ, ╎ᓭꖌᔑꖎꖎ. リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ᒲ⚍ᓵ⍑. ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣.”

Joe’s expression softened, and he stepped away from Cleo. Iskall, though, was still staring at Stress.

“ᓭ𝙹 ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ᓭᔑ||╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ’ᓭ ᔑ ʖ╎ℸ ̣ 𝙹⎓ ᓭℸ ̣∷ᒷᓭᓭ ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ? ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ᓭᔑ||╎リ⊣ ╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ ᒷリ𝙹⚍⊣⍑ 𝙹⎓ ⍑ᒷ∷…ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ᒲ╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ ʖᒷ ᓭᔑ⍊ᒷ↸?” Iskall said slowly, twirling the spear in his hand and staring at her. 

“||ᒷᓭ. ╎ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ᓭ𝙹.” Hypno panted. 

“...ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ᓵ𝙹ᒲ⎓𝙹∷ℸ ̣╎リ⊣, ⍑||!¡リ𝙹.” Iskall said softly. 

Stress groaned, her eyes flickering open, and Iskall walked towards her. 

Cleo didn’t have enough energy to yell at Stress to run. 

The wind howled around Mumbo’s head as he bled altitude, Bdubs flailing and screaming. He heard, behind him, a doppler-warped shout as Grian tucked his own wings in to follow-

Mumbo flared and flapped to some kind of a clumsy landing, knees screaming in protest as his legs hit the earth far harder than he’d been planning.  Mumbo hissed, stumbling a few steps, and finally dropped Bdubs. 

His fellow hermit tumbled to the ground, rolled over, and pulled two knives out from under his cloak. 

Mumbo lunged, grabbing Bdubs by both wrists, and wrenching him forward so their noses were an inch apart. 

He pulled his lips back in an instinctive snarl. 

“Stop it.” Mumbo hissed, “We don’t have time for this, Bdubs. Come with me.” 

It took every fibre of self-control in his soul to not Pacify Bdubs and be done with it. And then maybe sink his fangs into Bdubs’ neck and-

NO.

Mumbo was shaking with the effort of beating the vampire back, of making it stay in its little box where it belonged. 

“Stay. Still.” Mumbo hissed, staring straight into Bdubs’ eyes. 

Don’t make me hurt you. 

Bdubs, unfortunately, had no intention of making it easy on him. He snarled, and aimed a clumsy kick at Mumbo’s shin. The only saving grace was that Mumbo was a foot and a half taller and a lot stronger than most people gave him credit for. 

…and if the moon was helping with his might, well, that didn’t bear thinking about. 

Bdubs managed to wrench one of his wrists free, slashing wildly at Mumbo’s chest, and-

For just a second, as pain slashed across his chest, he lost focus. And his mental fingers slipped off the monster’s chain. 

Mumbo blinked. 

When his eyes opened, he had Bdubs pinned against the tree trunk, fangs at full extension, and his talons sunk slightly into his friend’s skin. 

Bdubs had dropped both knives, and had shrank back, a look of such pure terror on his face that it sent a shard of ice stabbing through Mumbo’s heart. 

Mumbo ignored that, just for a moment, and pressed his advantage to rip the bandolier off Bdubs’ shoulders. Without his knives, he was a lot less of a danger to Doc- and Mumbo himself.

He yanked Bdubs away from the tree, and shoved him towards the cave entrance. They didn’t have time. They didn’t have any time at all. 

But as he pushed Bdubs towards the darkness, something cold and hateful twisted in Mumbo’s gut. And he wondered what it was he’d done that had scared Bdubs so much. 

He seized the other man’s wrist, and Mumbo pulled his prey into the depths of the cave. 

Stress managed to scrape together enough presence of mind to roll onto her back. 

The moon was overhead, staring down at her. That hateful, horrible moon. The moon had been big once before, and this moon was somehow even nastier than that one. And that one had destroyed their world. 

Stress…didn’t want to move. 

She had no idea if Doc and Impulse and Mumbo were still alive, or if their plan had even worked. All she’d seen was Mumbo flying off with Bdubs, and that had been that. 

Stress panted. She made a weak effort to sit up, and then just- folded like a house of cards. There was nothing for it. 

Just the moon and the stars and a headache like someone savaging her skull with a hacksaw. 

Footsteps walked up to her, and Stress turned to see Iskall, looming large overtop of her. He was clutching a spear in one hand and an iron knife in the other. 

And for just a moment, Stress saw his expression soften. Something sad, and regretful. 

She reached up a hand- 

“╎⎓ ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ᓭℸ ̣╎ꖎꖎ ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ, ᓭℸ ̣∷ᒷᓭᓭ, ╎’ᒲ ᓭ𝙹∷∷||. ╎⎓ リ𝙹ℸ ̣…∴ᒷꖎꖎ. ᓵ𝙹⚍リℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍∷ᓭᒷꖎ⎓ ꖎ⚍ᓵꖌ|| ╎’ᒲ ⎓ᒷᒷꖎ╎リ⊣ リ╎ᓵᒷ.”

Iskall lifted the spear. 

Stress closed her eyes. 

It burned as it stabbed into her stomach. The iron of the point jabbed in, and Iskall just- let it sit there, towering up into the air. Stress rolled onto her side, and went limp. The iron cut and burned at her body, sucking all the strength from every atom of her being. Every ounce of her magic, nullified. Every atom of her might, consumed. 

She felt so weak, a gust of air would reduce her to atoms. Barely able to turn her head, to watch the killing blow- 

-that…never came. 

Instead, the footsteps turned, and they walked away. 

Stress sucked in a breath. 

It felt like she was trying to breathe through a straw. 

Down and down and down into the dark. Mumbo wasn’t bothered. He could see in the dark perfectly fine. Bdubs, meanwhile, was tripping over every errant rock and pebble, and Mumbo wasn’t in the mood to wait up for him. 

Bdubs pulled a torch out of his inventory, and Mumbo swung around and knocked it out of his hand. The torch landed in the corner and started slowly spinning in place, casting a flickering light on the stones around it. At least, until it went out. 

Bdubs struggled against Mumbo’s iron grip, and he snarled, hauling him deeper and deeper into the cave.

They didn’t have time. They flat-out did not have time. 

The others were out there risking their lives, and with no way to communicate, who knew if they were still alive or dead. This was all coming down to Doc’s stupid plan. And with each block they descended, Mumbo started to wonder if this insane gamble was even worth it. 

But. What other choice did they have?

Bdubs could bring the sun back. Bdubs could banish the moon. 

Down and down they went, spiralling into the heart of the caves, until the huge obsidian wall greeted Mumbo’s eyes. It was still dark as the Void down there, but the shine of the obsidian was so obvious to his eyes. And in the middle of it, light. The only light for hundreds of blocks, in fact. Right in the entrance to his erstwhile prison.  

Mumbo pushed Bdubs through the two-block hole, and plugged the door with his own body, staring inside. 

Doc was sitting on the floor, laying out cards in rows. Playing solitaire with himself, if Mumbo had to guess. 

Doc looked up, and made a shooing motion with his hand. Mumbo raised an eyebrow, and shook his head. He shooed him again, far more insistently. Mumbo rubbed his face, and sighed.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Doc…” Mumbo muttered, and he turned away. 

He walked into the darkness, up and up and up. Grian was still out there somewhere, Mumbo realized, and he needed to make sure that G didn’t run off and get “help” to storm the cave. That was the last thing they needed. 

Doc’s gamble clearly needed solitude to work. 

He stepped by a frightened Witch, who ran away from him with a shriek, and stepped up into the red moonlight. 

And just for a moment, Mumbo spread his wings and closed his eyes. 

The night air was cool against his skin. The wind was gently ruffling through the trees. He wasn’t so delusional to think it might be okay, but- 

But- 

Maybe- 

A screech from behind him had Mumbo’s eyes snapping open, and he spun around- 

A red blur dove at him, knocking him over onto the leaves, and Mumbo flailed, trying to knock Grian off- 

Mumbo’s tie went taut around his neck, and then it started to tighten more and more. 

Grian had both ends in his hands and was pulling as hard as he could.

Chapter Text

Impulse thumped his chest with a balled fist, and bellowed his challenge at the stars above. 

“ONE I HATE LEAST OF ALL! COME! BREAK YOUR RINGS UPON MY CROWN.” 

Skizz’s response was direct and eloquent, as Impulse dodged a ball of flame that threatened to burn the sickness from his blood. 

Skizz was moving so damn quick he was leaving an afterimage in the air behind him. Angels were already pretty quick in the air, but Thrones? Thrones took speed to a whole other level. 

Impulse found himself thinking on that as Skizz cannonballed into one of his wings, instantly incinerating the membranes and tossing him back towards the ground. Impulse barely regained his composure, barely regained the lost altitude-

The next blast of flame grazed the top of his crown of horns, almost melting the spikes, and he was looking up at the disgusting, holy radiance- 

“YOU WILL BE WELL.” Skizz’s emotionless voice boomed, “I COMMAND YOU TO BE WELL.” 

Impulse stuck his long forked tongue out and blew a raspberry. 

He reeled back, and spat a torrent of filth at Skizz that hissed as it spattered across his rings, making the angel scream in pain. 

“BURN WITH ME, BELOVED!” Impulse bellowed in Celestial, Skizz’s chiming tongue burning his lips as he spoke.

The wheels spun even faster, the eyes a blur, and Skizz’s voice trembled, a single crack of emotion working its way through. 

“THAT TONGUE IS NOT YOURS TO SPEAK, DEMON.” Skizz sang to him. 

The ball of fire that Impulse ducked put the sun to shame. 

Doc said nothing, just laid out the cards in row after row. He looked up, seeing Bdubs sprawled on the floor, panting and scared. He wanted, very badly, to get up and help his friend. His heart ached for it, to help, to comfort. 

But right now, getting close to Bdubs would likely be seen as a threat. 

So Doc stayed right where he was, and gathered up the cards, and shuffled the deck. 

Again, and again, the rhythmic motion of cards interlacing with a pleasant ruffling of paper. Bdubs looked up, eyes on Doc’s deck of cards, and then at the pitch-dark exit to the cube. 

He wasn’t trapped. But the cave was dark, and he couldn’t see in the blackness. 

Doc cleared his throat. 

Mumbo had torn Bdubs’ knife bandolier off, and that was a small comfort. But Doc wasn’t about to let his guard down. He’d spent enough time with Bdubs over the years to know that Bdubs always had at least one more knife on him. Always.

Bdubs shuffled a little, and Doc carefully started to deal. 

Six cards to each player, twelve total. One to his opponent, one to himself. Each card snapped out of the pile and onto the soft wool floor, one after another. 

As soon as he’d dealt, he carefully spread out the cards in a row between himself and the invisible player. 

Doc looked up, and stared straight at Bdubs. 

And he gestured for him to come closer.

Bdubs stared at him. 

“∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹╎リ⊣? ∴⍑|| ᔑ╎リ’ℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣∷╎ᒷ↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ꖌ╎ꖎꖎ ᒲᒷ ||ᒷℸ ̣? ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣? ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ⚍ᓭ ᔑꖎꖎ ↸ᒷᔑ↸?”

Doc said nothing. 

He just started to hum.

A silly little tune Jono had put together ages ago. A stupid little ditty, one that was alarmingly catchy. 

Doc picked up his cards, and started rearranging his hand.

Steel slid against steel as Bdubs drew two knives from- oh. His socks. Classic. Of course Mumbo wouldn’t have known about the ankle holsters. Doc chuckled, and shook his head. Well, nothing to be done about it now. 

Bdubs stood there, panting, muscles tense as corded steel. If he wanted to, he could end this entire charade right now. Doc wasn’t going to try fighting back. What could he do? He couldn’t explode. 

Bdubs twitched. 

It took every ounce of Doc’s self-control not to flinch. 

After several seconds of tension, Bdubs started waving his knives around and shouting. 

“||𝙹⚍- ||𝙹⚍ ᓵᔑリ’ℸ ̣ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ᓭ╎ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ! ᓵ’ᒲ𝙹リ, ⎓╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ! ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ ╎ᓭ ᔑꖎꖎ ᔑʖ𝙹⚍ℸ ̣, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣? ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリリᔑ ∷╎!¡ ᒲᒷ ᔑ!¡ᔑ∷ℸ ̣ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ↸╎↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ↸𝙹ᓵ?”

Doc said nothing, he just hummed and rearranged his hand again.

Bdubs took a few steps closer, and Doc glanced up to see a knife, hovering a few inches from his face. 

“||𝙹⚍ ꖌ╎↸リᔑ!¡!¡ᒷ↸ ╎ᓭꖌᔑꖎꖎ ᔑリ↸ ↸╎↸リ’ℸ ̣ ꖌ╎ꖎꖎ ⍑╎ᒲ ᔑリ↸ リ𝙹∴ ||𝙹⚍ ꖌ╎↸リᔑ!¡!¡ᒷ↸ ᒲᒷ ᔑリ↸ ↸╎↸リ’ℸ ̣ ꖌ╎ꖎꖎ ᒲᒷ. ╎ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ ᓭ𝙹ᒲᒷ ꖌ╎リ↸ 𝙹⎓ ᓭ╎ᓵꖌ ⋮𝙹ꖌᒷ? ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹╎リ⊣!?”

The knife was trembling, Doc noted. He felt…

…calm. 

Doc didn’t say anything. He gestured at the floor in front of him. 

“╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ᓭℸ ̣ᔑリ↸ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ⎓∷𝙹ᒲ ᒲᒷ.” Bdubs said warily, “∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ !¡ꖎᔑリ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ? ╎ ᔑꖎ∷ᒷᔑ↸|| ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ꖌ╎↸リᔑ!¡!¡ᒷ↸ 𝙹リᓵᒷ ℸ ̣𝙹↸ᔑ||!”

Doc swallowed, and rearranged his hand. Bdubs was getting more and more agitated as the seconds ticked by, and if he wasn’t careful, this whole thing could explode in his face. He needed to defuse this right now. 

He pulled a two from his hand and showed it to Bdubs. Specifically, the two of hearts.

“Do you have any twos?” He asked. 

“∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣? ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣- ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ℸ ̣∴𝙹 ᓭ⚍!¡!¡𝙹ᓭᒷ↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ᒲᒷᔑリ?” Bdubs looked at the cards, and then at Doc, “||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ᓭᒷ∷╎𝙹⚍ᓭꖎ|| ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹…?”

Doc shook the card. 

“Do you have any twos, Bdubs?” he said, keeping his voice as calm and even as possible. 

Bdubs looked back into the darkness of the cave, through the winding passages he’d never hope to navigate without a torch. And then back at Doc, and the cards spread across the floor. 

He wasn’t trapped by anything but his own terror. 

Bdubs crouched down and picked up the six cards, looking at them, and then at Doc, and then at the cards. 

“||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹 !¡ꖎᔑ||…ᓵᔑ∷↸ᓭ. ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹 !¡ꖎᔑ|| ᓵᔑ∷↸ᓭ ∴╎ℸ ̣⍑ ᒲᒷ. ||𝙹⚍ !¡ᒷᒷꖎᒷ↸ ↸𝙹ᓵ’ᓭ ⎓ᔑᓵᒷ 𝙹⎓⎓, ᔑリ↸ ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹 !¡ꖎᔑ|| ᓵᔑ∷↸ᓭ?!”

 Doc shook the two again.

“Do you have any twos?” Doc repeated slowly. 

Bdubs slammed the cards into the floor, and started to pace back and forth. Doc sucked in a breath between clenched teeth, watching his friend stomp back and forth and back and forth. 

If Bdubs jumped him right now, he’d finish the scuffle with more holes than a colander. 

Bdubs shook his head, twirling one of his knives. 

“↸𝙹∴リ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ⎓𝙹∷…ᔑꖎꖎ ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ…∴ᒷꖎꖎ. 𝙹ꖌᔑ||. ᓭ𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ᔑ╎リ’ℸ ̣ ⋮⚍ᒲ!¡ᒷ↸ ᒲᒷ ||ᒷℸ ̣. ᓭ𝙹 ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ 𝙹リᒷ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣.”

Doc swallowed, and nervously rearranged his hand. When he glanced back up, Bdubs was still pacing, but shooting him the occasional glance. He was staring into those bloodred eyes, something horrible churning in his guts at the sight. 

“ᓭ𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ᔑ╎リ’ℸ ̣ ʖꖎᒷ∴ ⚍!¡ ╎リ ᒲ|| ⎓ᔑᓵᒷ, ∴⍑╎ᓵ⍑ ╎ᓭ 𝙹リᒷ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣. ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ʖᔑℸ ̣-ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣ ↸╎↸リ’ℸ ̣ ∷╎!¡ ᒲ|| ℸ ̣⍑∷𝙹ᔑℸ ̣ 𝙹⚍ℸ ̣, ᔑリ↸ ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸’⍊ᒷ. ∴ᔑᓭ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ, ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ, ⎓𝙹∷ ᔑ ᓭᒷᓵ. ╎ ⎓ᒷꖎℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ℸ ̣ᒷᒷℸ ̣⍑ ╎リ ᒲ|| リᒷᓵꖌ…ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ╎ℸ ̣ ↸╎↸リ’ℸ ̣. ᓭ𝙹 ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ…ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣∴𝙹 ╎リ ᓭ!¡ᒷᓵ╎⎓╎ᓵ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ ↸ᒷᔑ↸. ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ…” 

Bdubs stopped, jabbing a knife straight at Doc, who, with a titanic force of will, didn’t flinch. 

But only just. 

“||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣∴╎ℸ ̣ᓵ⍑ ╎リ ᔑ ∴ᔑ|| ╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ. ||𝙹⚍ ⊣∷ᔑʖ ᒲᒷ, ||𝙹⚍ ʖ╎ℸ ̣ᒷ ᒲᒷ, ||𝙹⚍ ꖎᒷℸ ̣ ᔑ ᓭ╎リ⊣ꖎᒷ 𝙹リᒷ 𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣⍑𝙹ᓭᒷ リᔑリ╎ℸ ̣ᒷᓭ ⍑╎ℸ ̣ ᒲ|| ᓭꖌ╎リ. ╎ ᔑᒲ ⊣𝙹リリᔑ !¡ᒷᒷꖎ ||𝙹⚍ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ᔑ ⎓⚍ᓵꖌ╎リ⊣ 𝙹∷ᔑリ⊣ᒷ ᔑリ↸ ᓭᒲᒷꖎℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ⎓𝙹∷ ᓭᓵ∷ᔑ!¡. ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ╎ℸ ̣?”

Doc swallowed, and he nodded. The way Bdubs’ voice rose on the last two words hinted at a question, a demand. Better to just agree to…whatever that was…and move on.

“Got any twos?” Doc repeated, drawing the card again and showing it to Bdubs. 

His friend approached, slowly, that hardened expression both alien and familiar to Doc all at once. Bdubs sat down on the wool, cross-legged, knives still in hand, and stared at him. 

For a breath, and then two, and then five. 

And nothing happened. 

“⊣ꖎᔑ↸ ℸ ̣𝙹 ᓭᒷᒷ ∴ᒷ ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ᔑ ↸ᒷᔑꖎ,”  Bdubs muttered, “ꖎᒷℸ ̣’ᓭ ⊣ᒷℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ 𝙹⍊ᒷ∷ ∴╎ℸ ̣⍑…”

And to punctuate his statement, he stabbed both knives into the wool on either side of him. Doc stared at the shiny metal, razor-sharp, and he took a deep breath. 

Bdubs picked up the cards and looked at his hand, and then at Doc.

“Do you have any twos?” Doc asked.

Bdubs looked at his hand. He narrowed his eyes. 

“...⊣𝙹 ⎓╎ᓭ⍑?”  he said, and he pointed at the spread cards.

Skizz was chasing him. 

That was always the way it went. Angels chasing demons chasing angels, around and around and around. 

Sickness chasing health chasing sickness, around and around and around. 

We’ll vaccinate that plague away. I’ll evolve around your antibiotics. We’ll wash you off with alcohol. I’ll slip in through the cracks in your skin. 

Life and light. Together and apart. 

Impulse flew forward as fast as he could, only to flare and tumble from the sky as Skizz zipped in front of him, cutting him off. The wheels had slowed, and now their deadly game of midair tag had turned into a disastrous dogfight. 

Only difference was, Skizz could stop on a dime. 

Impulse made a wide circle in the air, as Skizz dashed back and forth, herding him left and right with great gouts of healing flame. 

Impulse had heard, from Tango and Bdubs and his mortal friends, that Skizz’s fire felt wonderful to stand in. Like a gentle tingling, a soak in a refreshing bath. A rush of relief, like a dislocated shoulder, without the pain to begin with. 

The living could dance in the flames and come out better than they were. 

Impulse thought on this, as a blast of fire melted half the spikes on his tail, and he tumbled from the air with a scream of agony.

“YOU ARE SICK. YOU WILL BE WELL.” 

Impulse ducked, trying to dodge the next blast of flame. Skizz had herded him back towards the clearing, and he could see flickering torchlight and shifting human shapes far below-

He ducked, rolling over, only for the next fireball to catch his left wings. 

All of them. 

Impulse screamed as the membranes were burnt clean, as his skin was ritually purified, and he fell from the sky like a stone. 

Bdubs pulled out a king of spades, held it up, and gave it a wave. 

“⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ᔑリ|| ꖌ╎リ⊣ᓭ?”  He asked, and Doc smiled and pulled his own king out of his hand and offered it to Bdubs.

Doc flicked through his hand. He pulled out an ace, and showed it to Bdubs. 

“Do you have any aces?” He asked, and Bdubs shook his head and pointed at the deck. 

“⊣𝙹 ⎓╎ᓭ⍑.”

Doc ran his eyes over Bdubs. Red eyes, obviously- the moon still had its claws sunk deep into Bdubs’ soul. That wasn’t changing. But his posture was much more relaxed. Calmer, for sure. Maybe-

Doc moved his hand towards his sack. A little too quick for Bdubs’ liking, aparently, because a second later there was a knife jabbing straight at him. 

“ᔑリ↸ ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ↸𝙹╎リ⊣, ⍑⚍⍑?” Bdubs hissed, “⊣ᒷℸ ̣ℸ ̣╎リ⊣ ||𝙹⚍∷ ∴ᒷᔑ!¡𝙹リ? ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣?”

Doc carefully placed his cards on the floor, and raised his hands, spreading them wide. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He said carefully, “I don’t have a weapon.” 

Bdubs narrowed his eyes. 

Doc slowly reached for the sack again, dragging the entire thing towards him. Bdubs hissed in a breath between clenched teeth, the hand holding the knife starting to tremble. 

…He was still holding his cards, and he hadn’t showed his hand.

That small fact emboldened Doc, and carefully opened the sack, letting Bdubs see inside it.

“See? Nothing dangerous. Snacks and amusements.” Doc said slowly, keeping his voice calm, “Do you want some?”

“∴⍑|| ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ⍑ᒷꖎꖎ ↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ᔑ ||𝙹-||𝙹 ╎リ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ?” Bdubs wondered, lowering the knife and stabbing it into the wool.

Emboldened, Doc reached into the sack and pulled out a can of soda. He placed his hand on the floor, cracked the can, and offered it to Bdubs. 

He stared at the fizzing can, red eyes darting between it and Doc. 

Bdubs ripped his knife out of the floor again, stabbing it at the air. He was still clutching his hand, and still holding it to his chest. Keeping it hidden. 

“||ᒷᔑ⍑, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣. ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ ↸ᒷ⎓╎リ╎ℸ ̣ᒷꖎ|| !¡𝙹╎ᓭ𝙹リ. ||𝙹⚍ ⎓╎∷ᓭℸ ̣.” Bdubs spat. 

He gestured with the knife for Doc to drink first. 

He shrugged, brought the can to his lips, and took a few swigs. Swallowed, enjoyed the flavours and the fizz, and burped. Good. Just regular cola. Normally, Doc wasn’t one to drink cola this late at night, but. Well. 

Blood moon. 

When Doc looked down again, Bdubs’ eyes were wide as dinner plates. 

He let the knife drop with a clatter, and Doc offered the can to him. 

Bdubs took it with trembling hands, eyes darting between the can and Doc’s face. 

“You look thirsty.” Doc said, keeping his voice even and calm.

Bdubs swirled the fizzy pop around a few times, both men listening to the bubbles pop on the inside of the can. 

He brought it to his lips and chugged it. 

Doc smiled, and reached into his bag of tricks. 

He removed a bag of chips, and tore them open in front of Bdubs. Pulled three out, and ate them, one after another. 

And offered the rest to Bdubs. 

“Here. Chip?” Doc said calmly, and Bdubs looked at the bag. 

He reached his free hand into it, and pulled one out. 

And he ate it. 

Doc still couldn’t see his opponent’s hand.

Impulse slammed into the ground, pain rattling through his entire being. 

He could taste dirt and his own tainted blood in his mouth, and he swallowed both down. His arms were pinned underneath him, his functional wings flapping uselessly at the air. The ruined ones stretched out behind him. 

His left leg was- hopefully not broken? He’d slammed into the ground pretty hard. As a demon, he had a boatload of health. He could regenerate, oh, of course he could. 

All he had to do was infect his friends with every disease in his arsenal, and he’d be back on his feet and wreaking havoc in no time. 

He rose to his feet, and oh, good, that was still working. A few of his arms were broken, but he still had his legs and his wings and his jaws- 

Impulse took a few deep breaths. The light was coming. The light was coming, and he had to run. He had to- 

A great scream rang through the forest, and cold fear thundered through his veins. Friends, moon-maddened and desperate, came charging out of the wilderness from all directions. Spears flew through the air, slamming into his back, his chest, his tail, his neck- 

xB levelled a bow and loosed an arrow. It soared, and smashed into one of Impulse’s seven eyes. The world went dark from that eye, and his roar of pain shook the treetops. 

Tainted blood flowed onto the ground. His soul seethed in rage. He wanted, so badly, to fill his lungs with poison, to fill his stomach with toxins- 

Suck in a breath and spray poison on his attackers. Drive them back. 

Win the war. 

Fine. 

FINE.

Impulse inhaled. 

And he started to cough. A wet, hacking thing, the mildest poison he had spiralling through the air. If they sucked it down- a small flu, please- 

A few infections, and he’d be- he could- 

Boots crunched across the pine needles, and Impulse swung his head around. Blood was leaking into his eyes on the left side, but through his working eyes, he saw Xisuma stalking towards him, shotgun in hand. 

Impulse felt terror. 

That gun had intended prey. 

Demons. 

Xisuma didn’t say anything. Just levelled the weapon, aimed- 

BANG.

Pain burst through Impulse’s left leg, and he fell, slamming into the ground with a roar of terror. 

Bdubs was smirking. 

Doc had a few cards left, and the deck was almost empty. The pile of pairs was significantly higher on Bdubs’ side. 

Exactly according to plan. 

He might’ve thrown the game a little. A bit. Asking for the same card repeatedly, for example, and letting Bdubs rake in all kinds of extra pairs. Maybe. 

But now it was down to the last few cards, and Bdubs was grinning at him, red eyes glowing.

Bdubs held up the Jack of hearts, and gave it a waggle. 

“⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ᔑリ|| ⋮ᔑᓵꖌᓭ?”

Doc handed over his last card, and Bdubs tallied up the last pair.

They pushed their piles together to compare them. Bdubs had won, by a landslide. 

He threw his hands up, a huge smile on his face, and Doc chuckled. 

“╎ ↸╎↸ ╎ℸ ̣! ╎ ∴╎リ! ℸ ̣ᔑꖌᒷ ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣, ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ᒷ⍊ᒷ∷ ℸ ̣⍑ᒷ ⍑ᒷꖎꖎ ||𝙹⚍ ᔑ∷ᒷ!”

“Happy?” Doc said, and Bdubs’ shoulders sagged. 

He looked Doc in the eyes, his face falling. Eyes darting all over Doc’s face. Nose, chin, beard, metal horns, metal eye. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Doc said gently, smiling at his own joke. 

“...╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ↸𝙹ᓵ,” Bdubs said after a pause, “╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣…╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎リꖌ ||𝙹⚍ ꖌ╎ꖎꖎᒷ↸ ↸𝙹ᓵ. リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ᔑリ||ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ. ||𝙹⚍ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣…ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ⍑╎ᒲ. ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣? ||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ʖᒷ╎リ⊣ ᓭ⚍!¡ᒷ∷ ᓵᔑꖎᒲ ᔑʖ𝙹⚍ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ. ↸𝙹ᓵ…⍑ᒷ’↸ リᒷ⍊ᒷ∷ ꖎᒷℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᒲᓭᒷꖎ⎓ ʖᒷ ᓭℸ ̣∷╎!¡!¡ᒷ↸ ⎓𝙹∷ !¡ᔑ∷ℸ ̣ᓭ. ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣?”

Doc nodded. Bdubs sounded unsure, whatever he was saying, and he smiled and did his best to look non-threatening.

“𝙹ꖌᔑ||, リ𝙹ℸ ̣-↸𝙹ᓵ. ℸ ̣⍑ᒷリ…||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリリᔑ ⊣𝙹 ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ?” 

Bdubs grabbed the cards and started shuffling them himself, interlacing them together and then cutting the deck and sliding them over each other. Over and over, shuffling and reshuffling. Doc removed the fidget cube from his sack, and started to play with it- steadying his own nerves as Bdubs shuffled. 

Bdubs started dealing the cards, six apiece, and Doc extended a hand and caught Bdubs by the wrist. 

Both men tensed up. Bdubs’ eyes darted to Doc’s face, and then to his discarded knives. Instantly, there was tension in his muscles, eyes lingering on the knives. 

Doc reached into the sack, and Bdubs stiffened. 

And Doc withdrew the clock, and placed it in Bdubs’ hands. 

He pointed at the face of the clock. At the red moon, high in the clock’s sky. He traced its path with a finger, showing it setting. 

Bdubs nodded once, hesitantly. 

And then Doc pointed at Mumbo’s bed. 

He placed the clock in Bdubs’ hands, and looked at the bed. 

“||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ…ℸ ̣𝙹 ↸𝙹 ᒲ|| ∷╎ℸ ̣⚍ᔑꖎ?”  Bdubs asked. 

Doc nodded. 

“Please. Please. For all of us. You’re our only hope, Bdubs.” 

Bdubs swallowed. 

He stared at the clock.

“╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ⊣𝙹╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣𝙹 ∴𝙹∷ꖌ.” He said, staring at the clock, “╎ ℸ ̣∷╎ᒷ↸ ╎ℸ ̣, ʖᒷ⎓𝙹∷ᒷ ╎ ⎓ᒷꖎꖎ ᔑᓭꖎᒷᒷ!¡. ╎ℸ ̣’ᓭ…”

“Please.” Doc repeated, tracing the path of the moon setting into the clock’s horizon, “Please, Bdubs.” 

Bdubs stared at the blood moon, lost in the clock’s murderous sky. 

He took a deep breath. 

“∴ᒷꖎꖎ. ∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ╎ ⊣𝙹ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹 ꖎ𝙹ᓭᒷ? ᒲᔑ||ʖᒷ ╎’ꖎꖎ ∴ᔑꖌᒷ ⚍!¡, ᔑリ↸ ℸ ̣⍑╎ᓭ ∴⍑𝙹ꖎᒷ ℸ ̣⍑╎リ⊣’ꖎꖎ ʖᒷ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑ リ╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ᒲᔑ∷ᒷ…”

Bdubs rose to his feet and walked towards the bed. 

Footsteps crowded around him, and Impulse closed his eyes and went limp. Gold- and copper- tipped spears were stabbing into him, ropes tied to the ends pulling him onto his front. He let himself be rolled, the gold burning and weakening him with every second it was embedded in his flesh.

His leg was ruined. The slug had shattered the bone and torn through his flesh. He wasn’t standing up on that, not without a lot of infections. 

Impulse flopped on his front, useless wings limp, and he tucked in his useful ones. His arms had no strength in them, and he laid his great head on the ground and looked up. 

Doc’s plan hadn’t worked, then. The gamble was for nothing.

The light was drawing closer. 

Skizz was going to hate himself in the morning. If the sun ever rose again, Skizz was going to be a wreck for what he’d done…

And as a holy light filled Impulse’s vision, his stomach clenched. 

Skizz was never going to forgive himself for this. 

Impulse looked up, eyes soft and full of love. 

And he spoke, in Skizz’s language, chiming tones rumbling uselessly through demonic bulk. A thick, warped accent he couldn’t help. 

“Beloved one, I blame you for nothing. Do not carry this weight on your soul. I forgive you.” 

The light grew and grew, and Impulse closed his eyes. 

And he smiled. 

Chapter Text

Doc’s eye snapped open.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his one organic eye with his one organic hand, and blinked it. A soft snoring to his left caught his attention, and Doc stood up and walked over to the bed. 

Bdubs was lying in it, in the correct position for his ritual. One arm dangling off the side, fingers just touching the surface of his clock, fast asleep.  

It worked. It actually worked. 

“Bdubs?” Doc said carefully, shaking him awake with trembling hands, “Bdubs? Can you understand me?”

Bdubs opened his eyes and Doc damn near fainted from relief. 

Soft brown eyes stared up at him, rich and warm like dark chocolate. Healthy white sclerae, a dark black pupil. A shine of life and light. 

“Doc?” Bdubs grunted, and Doc wanted to cry in relief. 

“Bdubs. Bdubs, you can understand me? We’re talking?” Doc said, hands trembling. 

“Yeah?” Bdubs sat, “What the hell, Doc? Why wouldn’t we be? Since when can we not where the fuck am I?”

Doc burst out laughing.

Bdubs stared at him. 

“Doc?” he said nervously, “Doc. What happened? Doc…” 

Bdubs’ eyes went wide, as realization dawned. 

“Doc. There was a bloodmoon last night. Why am I in a safety box?” 

“Well,” Doc said, “We, ah, miscalculated. Last night…the moon rose, and refused to set. And ah, it didn’t affect us this time. No, it affected… you . Humans, passive mob hybrids, and of course Skizzleman.” 

Bdubs’ jaw fell open. 

“Did I- did I hurt anybody?”

Doc’s smile fell off his face. 

“No. You didn’t. At least, not to my knowledge. But I’d be willing to bet the others did. And we need to find them. Ren needs medical attention, Tango needs stitches, I need healing potions. Impulse-” 

Doc froze. 

Bdubs leapt out of bed, already fumbling for his knives. 

“Impulse needs WHAT, Doc? Tell me!” 

“Impulse went toe-to-toe with Skizzleman. I don’t know if he’s still alive.” Doc said.

Both hermits dove for the ender chest. 

Impulse wasn’t dead.

He’d been expecting death to be swift and painful, but instead, he opened his seven eyes and found himself staring up at a wobbling collection of rings, floating in the air. 

He flicked his burned tail, considering if asking for them to get on with it was a good idea. The waiting was its own special kind of torture, and he’d already made his peace with nonexistence. Plus, “I forgive you” were some great final words, as they went. So-

Impulse’s eyes went wide. 

Skizz’s wheels slowed, and then stopped. 

“I…huh?” Skizz said slowly, his voice echoing a little. 

Impulse felt his heartbeat quicken.

All around him, from what little Impulse could see, he saw the human hermits- stumbling. Staggering. Eyes blinking and sagging, legs starting to tremble. Iskall was panting, leaning against a tree for support. False was shaking, looking like she was about to fall over. 

Beef sank to the ground slowly, eyes sagging. He hit the deck, and- 

-stopped moving, but for slow and steady breathing. 

All around him, Impulse watched his friends slowly sink to the ground, eyes falling closed. One after another, hitting the deck and falling asleep. 

His eyes drifted up to Skizzleman, heart hammering. The rings had floated so the outermost one was touching the ground, and Impulse- 

Gasped. 

The red light filling Skizz’s eyes started to fade, the brilliant shine of blue and white and gold strobing back to life behind every single one. 

The strobing slowed, and eventually stopped, one colour per ring. Skizz’s rings aligned themselves into a disc, and he toppled onto the ground, rolling madly for a few seconds before settling in with a soft snore. 

A glowing golden manhole cover, with a shining iridescent soul in the middle. 

Impulse felt something…cold, and scared, slithering around in his chest. So that was what that looked like from the outside. When the moon left your mind, it took every ounce of your energy with it. Left you so badly drained, you collapsed to the ground and slept off the hangover. 

…Which could only mean one thing.

Impulse glanced up.

The sky was orange, as the brilliant light of the sun started to crawl over the horizon. 

He sighed. Exhaustion oozed out of every pore. He still had multiple golden spears sticking out of him, he still couldn’t fly, and he was covered with burns from angelic fire. 

In a word? Impulse was exhausted. He maybe had the energy to try standing up, but…well. His leg was destroyed. And hey. Maybe if he went to sleep, he’d wake up, and this whole thing would just be some horrible nightmare. 

It wasn’t like he was gonna bleed to death all that quickly.

Maybe. 

So Impulse closed his eyes, and with a great rumbling snore, went straight to sleep.

Outside the cave, the sky was starting to turn blue, with distant orange and purple bands creeping towards the horizon as the sun rose. Doc stepped out into the crisp morning air, listening to the birds in the trees chattering away, the insects in the grass buzzing and hopping. 

And among the pine needles in the front of the cave, Grian and Mumbo were sprawled in the dirt.

Mumbo was faceup, eyes closed, hideous purple bruising all around his neck. His tie was cinched tight, but it had slid loose- Grian’s hands were somewhere near Mumbo’s neck, and Doc winced. 

Not only that, but there was a very nasty slash across his chest that was weeping dark red blood. Plus, Mumbo's suit back was destroyed, but that wasn't really a concern. Two little piles of ash were all that was left of his wings in the daylight.

Doc plonked down his potion shulker (What an intriguing novelty, having shulkers and an inventory again) and withdrew a splash potion of weakness and broke it over Mumbo’s neck. 

“Oh my god,” Bdubs muttered, “Did- did Grian-? Did I-?”

“Yep,” Doc said, “Doesn’t surprise me. You all were ready to rip us limb from limb.”

Bdubs went very, very still.

Mumbo’s eyes fluttered open as Doc carefully cut the tie off his neck. 

“Doc?” Mumbo wheezed, “Wha-”

“Drink.” Doc said, putting a potion bottle to Mumbo’s lips. 

Mumbo grabbed the bottle, chugging the blessed weakness, and before their eyes, the horrible bruising and damage started to reverse. 

“Here.” Doc said, handing Mumbo a gapple from the shulker. 

He took it, sitting up and sinking his teeth into it with a clink. With every piece of golden flesh Mumbo swallowed, he looked- a lot healthier. Brighter eyes, and the ligature marks around his neck started to smooth out.

“You’ll need a run through the scanner,” Doc said blithely, “Strangulation of any kind is really dangerous. There’s a risk you have some damage we can’t see, so. You need a checkup later.” 

Mumbo snorted. 

“You just want to give me a robotic neck,” He said, eating the Gapple’s core. 

Doc grinned. 

“Oh, I might have a few ideas for that.” 

Bdubs stood there, eyes downcast and dark, staring at Grian.

“Doc,” he said, “Did we-”

“You did,” Mumbo said, rubbing his neck, “I mean, YOU didn’t. Well, you did. You DID slash me, and also bite me, but. That’s not really a concern, seeing as I’m half-dead.” 

Bdubs swallowed. 

“Did I bite anyone else?” 

“Not to my knowledge,” Doc said gently, “And even if you had, every single Hermit is either immune or vaccinated. Bdubs, don’t worry. But if it makes you better, I’ll give everyone their rabies booster after we’ve cleaned this mess up.” 

Bdubs smiled weakly. 

“That would make me feel a lot better, actually,” He said quietly, “Thanks, Doc.” 

“Then consider it done. Mumbo, do you want to grab Grian? Probably not a good idea to leave him here.”

Mumbo nodded, scooping up Grian and climbing to his feet. 

Doc strapped on his elytra, the other Hermits doing the same, and Mumbo coughed. 

“Um, Doc,” He said, “I know now’s probably a bad time. But, uh, I’ve been considering…” 

Doc perked up. 

“-I’ve been reconsidering your offer.” Mumbo finished, “Uh. The…cybernetic wings. Could you…? Could we…?” 

Doc’s face lit up like a sunrise, and he flapped his organic hand in excitement. 

“YES! YES! OH, MUMBO, YES!” Doc jumped up and down with excitement, “YES! I’ve got the plans in my workshop, we’ve- We could go with the sunshield model and let you use your natural wings, or we could go with a dual-pair setup like what Impulse has, or-” 

“AHEM.” Bdubs said, “Doc. Friends? Hurt? You know?” 

“Oh, yes. Right. Mumbo, we’ll talk bionics later. Come on, you two!” 

And Doc rocketed into the sky.

Mumbo and Bdubs spread their elytra and followed him into the air. 

Tango blinked awake as the pillow he’d fallen asleep on started moving. 

It was huge, and furry, and smelled like a wet dog. He grunted, trying to close his eyes again for another few minutes of sleep, only for his pillow to rudely shift again. 

“Ugh,” Tango grunted, eyes flicking open. 

“Sorry,” Doc’s voice floated down from somewhere to Tango’s left, “Mumbo, can you grab Tango?” 

“Yeah, sure. And…?”

 “Just move him away. Ren, hold still. I’m going to pull the spear out, it’s going to hurt a lot. Okay?” 

A whimper, and Tango opened his eyes.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” Tango muttered, sitting up-

Pain lanced all down his chest, and he looked down to see an angry red gash slashed through his clothing, covered with a long bandage. It hurt to sit up, breathing agitated it, and Tango flopped back on the ground as his pillow moved away. 

“Ow,” Tango said. 

Ren agreed with him by way of an earsplitting howl.

“Sorry,” Doc said awkwardly. 

A potion bottle broke, and then another, and then another. 

“Drink.” Doc’s voice said, someplace far away. 

Tango blinked, staring up at the sky. 

“Wait,” He said, “I see- blue. Did we- did we win? Did we do it?” 

Footsteps tromped up to him, and Bdubs filled his vision, healing potions in both hands. 

“Yeah, you did it,” Bdubs said, his eyes dark, “Tango- how’d this happen? Did I do that?” 

“Uh, no,” Tango shook his head, as Bdubs rubbed some antiseptic on his hands and carefully peeled the bandage off, “No, that was, uh, Keralis. With a knife.” 

Bdubs winced. 

“...Uh. Doc, is it supposed to be red like this?” Bdubs asked, staring at Tango’s wound. 

“No. These are both infected,” Doc said, sounding concerned, “And they- these wounds are fresh. They shouldn’t be going off this quickly…” 

Ren rumbled. 

“What?” 

“I said,” Ren grunted, “Impulse went full demon mode ten seconds after we got these.” 

“Also we were like. In the water. Not really a great place for a knife fight.” Tango chuckled, “I mean, come on. Everyone knows I’m an awful swimmer…” 

Bdubs chuckled, tearing open an alcohol swab and touching it to the glowing blood from Tango’s wound. 

Both men yelled (in both pain and surprise) as the alcohol-soaked rag burst into flame on contact with Tango’s burning orange blood. 

“Uh, Doc?!” Bdubs said, staring at the small conflagration merrily burning away on Tango’s chest, “What do I do if, uh, the patient lights the alcohol swab on fire?” 

“What? What do you mean-”Doc turned around to see what Bdubs was yelling about- 

And stared at the small campfire casually burning an inch above Tango’s left nipple. 

“Uh,” Doc said awkwardly, “I think that might scar.” 

“YA THINK!?” Tango yelled. 

Impulse woke up to screaming.

He blinked his six (Six? Uh-oh,) eyes open, rolling them left and right. 

In front of him, blinding, holy radiance. Skizzleman, floating in the air. Eyes mercifully shining between all the colours of the rainbow.

And every single eye in every single ring was weeping iridescent tears onto the ground, tears that pooled like an oil slick and refused to sink into the earth. 

“IMPULSE!” Skizz screamed, “IMPULSE! IMPULSE, WAKE UP RIGHT NOW! TALK TO ME! PLEASE- please…” 

Skizz’s voice broke, and the rings burst into panicked flame, whistling as they turned faster and faster- 

“Uhhhhhh,” Impulse said intelligently. 

“Impulse?!”

“Ow. My…everything.” Impulse rumbled, “Ow.” 

“Impulse…” Skizz whispered, “Impulse, you’re alive. You’re alive. Oh my God, you’re alive. I-” 

Impulse closed his eyes. 

“NO! NO- DON’T- STAY WITH ME, IMPULSE! COME ON, KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN! YOU’RE OKAY! YOU’RE OKAY! SNEEZE! IMPULSE, BEEF’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU- SNEEZE ON HIM! RIGHT NOW! ANYTHING YOU NEED, I’LL FIX IT, JUST PLEASE-” 

“I’m…fine…” Impulse grunted, “Can’t…move. Gold…copper…My leg…” 

“Oh.” Skizz said, eyes locking onto the spears lodged in Impulse’s back. 

“I…I can’t…” Skizz’s voice broke, “I can’t heal you, Impulse.” 

“Yeah. I know.” Impulse grunted, “Can you…the spears…” 

“I. I can’t.” Skizz said quietly, “I don’t have hands. Impulse-” 

“Oh.” Impulse said. 

He slumped against the earth, letting his wings splay. 

Skizz gasped. 

Impulse closed his eyes again and sighed. 

“I’m alive. It’s not…your fault. Didn’t know…what you were doing.” He rumbled, “I forgive you.” 

“You- You-” 

“I forgive you, Skizz. You can make it up to me, though.” 

“I can?” 

“Yeah. By not beating yourself up.” 

Skizz laughed. It was jarring and hysterical, a high-pitched thing that chimed like church bells and ringing pipe organs. Panicked, screechy music, as Skizz’s laughter turned into sobs. 

He drifted over to Beef, letting his glowing tears fall on the man’s back, and then over to…probably Iskall. Flashes of light followed in his wake, and Impulse grunted. 

The spears were really starting to hurt, now. The adrenaline had worn off, and shock had tipped its hat and vanished into the ether. And his leg…his leg was destroyed. The femur was in pieces, the muscle was torn…

If he changed back to his human form now, he was going to bleed to death. As a demon, he at least had time to fix this. 

Beef awoke with a gasp, and Impulse didn’t bother opening his eyes. 

“Where the heck am I?” Beef said, and Impulse grunted. 

“GAH! Impulse, you scared…me…Holy crap, are you okay?” 

“No,” Impulse grunted, “Can you pull these spears out of me? I can’t move.” 

Beef rushed to his feet, and Impulse grunted as the spears were pulled out of him, one after another. Sure, it hurt like hell, but with each stabbing copper point, he could feel his strength returning. A gush of infected blood oozed out of each wound, which paradoxically made Impulse feel a bit better. That was a route of infection, after all, and he’d take what little he could get. 

The barest trickle of ill health, keeping him alive. 

The last spear clattered to the ground, and Impulse pushed himself up with four of his still-working arms. 

He looked around, gasping for air, and looked at Beef, eyes full of sorrow. 

Beef sighed. 

“Do it, dude. You look like you need it. Just- no meningitis, nothing flesh-eating, and no scarring my face. Okay?”

Impulse laughed, the sound quickly turning crackly as he filled his lungs with a few specially chosen pathogens. 

Beef grimaced as Impulse coughed in his face. 

And the bleeding stopped. 

Iskall woke up with a shout. 

He was lying on his back, staring up at a circle of trees overhead. Blue sky and puffy clouds stared down at him, leaf litter all around, and he sat up slowly. 

This…was not his base. 

To his left, Impulse was sprawled out in his demon form, grunting in pain. Skizz was drifting around, healing hermits. A fight? There’d been a fight? 

Iskall felt cold panic lance through him, and he climbed to his feet. He stumbled, head whipping left and right- 

There. Against the edge of the forest. Two figures sprawled on the ground, one thrashing around and the other disturbingly still. Iskall rushed over to them, the shapes becoming clearer as he got closer. Cleo’s wrists were bound, and they were fighting tooth and nail to free themselves- to no avail. But beside them- 

Stressmonster was still as the grave. There was something sticking out of her- a spear? Was that a spear? 

It was sticking out of her stomach, with small amounts of blood leaking from the wound. An iron bar, crudely welded to a wooden stick. 

Rage blossomed in Iskall’s stomach. 

Whoever had done this was going to pay.

He charged over to Stress. A swarm of bees were hovering around her, all incredibly agitated. The bees buzzed angrily, several dozen of them charging at them, and he staggered back.

“It’s ME, you idiots!” Iskall yelled at the swarm, “ME! ISKALL! FRIEND OF STRESSMONSTER! She needs HELP!” 

The bees buzzed angrily, backing away- a little. 

Iskall growled, pulling a knife out of his pocket and crouching down to cut Cleo’s binds. 

“There,” he said, “Sorry, Cleo.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Cleo grunted, “Been fighting that for the last ten minutes.” 

Iskall nodded and took a few deep breaths. He turned back to the swarm, and folded his arms. 

“Okay! Okay. I’m sorry I called you idiots!” he said, “But Stress is injured! Can we please focus on what’s IMPORTANT?” 

The swarm, mercifully, seemed to listen. They buzzed a few feet away, balling up on a nearby tree branch. Still keeping an eye on Stress, he was sure. Iskall couldn’t see a queen in the ball, so she was probably still inside of Stress’s chest someplace. 

He knelt down beside Stress, looking her over. Cuts and bruises, to be expected. A few slash marks that were still weeping blood. A few dead bees crushed against her wood.

But she was breathing. That was the most important thing. 

Iskall laid a hand on Stress’ shoulder and gave her a shake, desperately trying to jostle some life into her. 

“Stress. Stress, are you okay?” Iskall said, voice breaking a little, “Wake up. Please-” 

Stress grunted, her eyes flickering open. A soft smile worked its way across her face, and Iskall grabbed the spear, about to pull it out- 

“Don’t.” 

A cold, dead hand planted itself on Iskall’s shoulder, and he looked up to see Cleo looming over him. 

“Pull that out and she’ll bleed to death.” Cleo said. 

Iskall nodded. 

“Can you- can you go get Doc for me?” 

“How about Skizz instead?” Cleo offered, and Iskall nodded frantically. 

“Go. Get him. We- we gotta get this spear out.” Iskall lifted Stress’ head with his organic hand, looking into her eyes. 

“Come on, Stress, stay with me. Stay with me, okay?” He said, swallowing down his panic, “It’s gonna be okay. Skizz- he’s on his way! You’re gonna be alright!” 

Stress chuckled, her eyes drooping. 

“Who did this?” Iskall hissed, “Who? I’ll kill them. I swear to God, Stress, you just- point me at them, and I’ll stick a knife in their-” 

Stress shook her head, and grabbed Iskall’s wrist. 

“What? No? What do you mean, no? Stress, you’ve got a goddamn spear sticking out of you! An iron spear! Whoever did this is gonna pay with blood, I swear to-” 

Stress shook her head, even more insistently. 

Iskall laid her head down carefully, pressing two fingers against her wrist to feel for a pulse- the only thing he could think to do. There, between knots of wood. 

It was fast and faint, and Iskall swallowed nervously. 

One of Stress’s bees crawled onto his hand, and Iskall brushed it off. 

“Go away. I’m busy.” He muttered, “Come on, Stress. Please. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Stress chuckled, eyes drooping. 

She mumbled something unintelligible, and Iskall swallowed. 

Warmth grew against Iskall’s back, like turning his back to a campfire. It was a flame that cheered, both inside and out, and as it got closer, he felt the knots in his back start to undo themselves, the tension in his shoulders bleeding out of him. 

“See? Skizz. Almost here.” Iskall said, grabbing the spear with both hands as Skizz floated closer. 

“Skizz,” Iskall said, glancing over his shoulder, “Can you- like- I gotta pull this out, or Stress is never going to-” 

“Yeah. Yeah.” Skizz said flatly, “Do it, dude.” 

Iskall yanked the spear out, and Skizz bathed both hermits in a bright, healing glow. The warmth chased the pain from Stress’s face, and drove the stress and soreness out of Iskall’s bones. 

As the light faded, he breathed a sigh of relief. The horrible bloody hole was gone, and Stress’s eyes were clear. 

“Stress,” Iskall said, voice breaking, “Who did that? Who?”

She reached up a hand and cupped his face. 

“You did.” She said flatly, “I’m sorry, luv.” 

Iskall went limp. 

Chapter Text

Doc emerged from the forest with his medical bag in one hand and a rocket in the other, to the heartening sight of almost everyone up on their feet and looking around. Impulse had rolled himself onto his side and was a short distance from everyone else, but otherwise, Doc could see the crowd of Hermits gathering around. 

And boy, were there a lot of very dark, distant faces looking back at them. Iskall was leaning against a tree with his arms folded, about as far from Stress as he could possibly be. Doc felt something cold and uncomfortable coiling in his guts at the sight, and he sighed and plonked his potion shulker on the ground. 

“Alright!” Doc said to the crowd of dour faces, “Is everyone here?” 

“No.” Welsknight called miserably from behind Doc. 

He tromped up in front of everyone, clutching a bucket in both hands. Inside the bucket, blue goop sloshed back and forth- a goo that poked a pair of see-bulbs up wards, and formed a crude blob to wave at the other Hermits with. 

“...Jevin?” Doc asked, “What, uh…” 

“It’s okay,” Jevin said, “I, uh, lost my pelvis. Kinda no point lugging the rest of my bones around without it.” 

Wels stiffened, and Jevin patted his gauntlet with a glob of slime. 

“Dude. Stop it. Seriously. You’re so maudlin it’s making me depressed.” 

You could practically hear the record scratch as every Hermit turned to stare at the bucket. 

“...Since when do you know the word ‘maudlin’?” Cleo wondered aloud. 

Jevin sloshed around in his bucket in exasperation. 

“I read sometimes!” He protested, and Wels burst out laughing. 

Jevin’s see-bulbs twisted up in a pathetic echo of a smile. Wels came extremely close to dropping the bucket as his shoulders shook with helpless laughter.

After letting Wels break down in slightly-hysterical giggles for a good few minutes, Jevin patted his gauntlet with a blob of slime again.

 “Wels, dude, seriously. It’s fine. Just…find me a new pelvis, and we’re good. Besides, I like it in here.” 

“...You do?” Wels spluttered, and Jevin nodded his see-bulbs.

“Yeah, obviously. Dude, I am SO comfortable in here, you have NO idea. I am one hundred percent sacked out in here. Full couch potato mode. I’d live in a bucket all the time if, like, travelling wasn’t a thing.” 

Wels…relaxed a little bit. Some of the strain in his shoulders undid itself, and he walked over to the other Hermits, still lugging the bucket around. Jevin peeked his see-bulbs over the rim, keeping a sharp See on the others. 

Doc smiled. 

“Well, Jevin, I’m sure a new pelvis can be found. I’ve got a mob farm I’m sure we could divert some skeletons from. Is it just a pelvis, or…?”

“I mean, obviously, a NICE pelvis,” Jevin nodded his slime, “No cracks or anything. I can’t be seen with cracked bones.”

Doc snorted. 

“Yeah, we can find you a nice pelvis. For sure.”

Silence fell over the gathering, and Doc spoke again. 

“Alright. Listen. We all- we’ve all had a rough night,” Doc said quietly, “Is everyone okay?” 

This was met with a tense, bitter silence. 

Doc sighed. 

“Alright. That’s a no. Who, besides Impulse, needs immediate medical attention?”

Skizz floated over. 

“I think I got everyone stabilized. Besides Impulse. Doc…” Skizz’s voice broke, “Doc. Do you know what happened? What happened to me? To us?”  

Doc swallowed. 

“The moon took your minds. As it does. Why, I can’t say. It wanted blood, I guess.” 

Doc shrugged helplessly. 

“There wasn’t anything we could have done. Bloodmoons…well. There’s no way to stop them.” He sighed. 

Doc’s face fell. 

“So I ask again. Is everyone alright?”

Hesitant nodding. Dark faces. Iskall looked at the ground. Wels looked like he was about to burst into tears. And Skizz did start weeping, hundreds of iridescent teardrops hitting the ground. 

 “Close enough.” Doc rumbled, taking a deep breath. 

“We’re alive.” He said after a pause, “All of us are alive. Nobody died. Nobody was maimed forever, or at least, in a way we can’t fix.” His eye lingered on Impulse, and he kept talking. 

“So?” Iskall spat, “Doesn’t change what we did.” 

“Maybe it does.” Doc said, “Because last night, I- WE learned things. Important things. And I have some suggestions for how we can stop any of this from happening ever again.” 

THAT caught the attention of the others, and Doc saw the ghost of a smile on Xisuma’s face. 

Before he cold continue, Stress shoved her way to the front of the crowd. Doc relaxed slightly- Stress looked a lot healthier and less feral under the light of the sun, and her claws had blunted themselves, no longer flesh-rending hooks. 

“If the next words outta your mouth are “We need to lock everyone up next blood moon”, I’m gonna have to stop you right there,” Stress folded her arms, “There’s been enough a’ that for a few lifetimes.” 

Doc smiled bitterly. 

“No. I have…a new idea.” 

He inhaled.

“We- that is, all of us- made a mistake,” Doc said, “Well, actually, we made two mistakes. Our first mistake was not paying attention to who gets tired when the blood moon rises."

This was met with many, many understanding nods.

"So, armed with that knowledge alone," Doc said, "I think we'll be able to stop this situation from happening ever again."

The relief that washed over his friend's faces was palpable. Iskall looked like the sins of the world had just slid off his shoulders. Xisuma turned away and sniffled. The revelation that they had warning, and a way to predict...

"That's...that makes me feel a lot better," Skizz whispered, "So we can just...keep an eye on who's tired, and lock up the right people?"

"Well." Doc said, "About that."

He took a deep breath.

"We made our second mistake in assuming that anyone moonstruck is mindless. They’re not.”

Skizz’s wings sagged. 

“-I realize that now.” Doc continued awkwardly, “Hell, I assumed it of myself. If only we could remember what happened under the moon…But, no. Moonstruck is closer to a…confusion? A madness? A distortion. You see, but you don’t see. You think, but it comes out crosswired. And if that’s the case…” 

Doc swallowed. 

“How would a confused but rational person react to being abducted by a scary monster?” He said, his eyes lingering on Iskall. 

Then he shifted his gaze over to Bdubs. 

“They’d want to fight back, or run away, so they could live. And as I proved last night… the hand of friendship works a lot better than chains and obsidian.”

Bdubs frowned. 

“It does? I mean- Doc, I dunno. I passed out in my base, and then I woke up in Mumbo’s cube-”

“It does.” Doc said flatly, “trust me, Bdubs. It does.” 

He took a deep breath.

“So. If that’s the case. Then I ask all of you. How would a scared, confused, but rational person respond to being chained to a wall in a blank white box with no stimulation?” 

The gathered Hermits gasped. 

“...The cubes.” Iskall said, grabbing his head, “you’re telling me- We’ve been-” 

Doc nodded grimly. 

“I think so. I think…” 

He spread his arms. 

“I think we need to make some changes. And I think our changes would make things safer for everyone.” 

Iskall looked over at Stress, and then down at his hands, and shoved his way forward. 

“I have some ideas. For what we can do. For…for all of this. To fix this.”

A rumble from behind everyone got their attention, and Impulse lifted his great head. 

“Hey, so,” he said, “I am one hundred percent on board with all of that. And like…guys. All of you. Please stop beating yourselves up. You didn’t know what you were doing. You thought I was a scary monster, and acted accordingly. But…uh…” 

Impulse flopped on the ground, grunting in pain. 

“Could you guys bring me a few…thousand…mobs? I’m gonna need to infect a LOT of stuff if I want to. Um. Stand up?” 

Skizz clacked his rings together, a chime like church bells ringing through the air. 

“You heard the man! We need cows, we need chickens, we need pigs, we need sheep! Get to it, guys!” 

Skizz sagged a little. 

“And. Um. Has anyone seen my body? I need my hands to. Um. Help.” 

Impulse burst out laughing. 

“Dude, if you broke your shell, I’m gonna install your head on backwards this time around.”

“You wouldn’t!” Skizz said, aghast. 

Impulse laughed, a low, evil thing. His yellow eyes glowed with malice, and when he spoke, it was a rumble from deep in his chest. 

“Oh, Skizz. You know me. Would this face lie to you?”

Skizz burst out laughing. 

A high, ringing sound. Relaxing to all who heard it. It calmed the soul, soothed the nerves, sheltered the spirit. It sounded like a bell, tolling safety after the storm. 

Impulse smiled. 

Several hundred cases of scrapie later, Impulse was back on his feet. He was still a mess, but at least he wasn’t going to drop dead on the spot. His spikes were still melted and burned off, he still had huge patches of burnt skin, and his left wings were still skeletonized husks bereft of membrane, but. 

He was upright, and breathing, and stable enough to try shifting back. His leg was no longer a shattered mess, which was where he’d sent most of his power. 

He shifted back into his human form with extreme caution. Eyes and wings shrank away into his body, Arms melted together, skin softened from pustule-covered coal-black to healthy pink. His crown of horns slid back into his head, leaving only two, his jaw retracted and his teeth shrank in.

Until, with a blink of his soft brown eyes, Impulse was standing before them. 

And he looked like absolute crap. 

He had a huge black eye, a split lip, and one of his wings was burnt to nothing and hanging limply. He was bleeding from multiple small gashes, and his leg looked weak and unsteady. His tail dragged along the ground, and he was stumbling and panting. Skizz, now in his shell, rushed over and caught him. 

“Dop! Dop, you okay?” Skizz said, the eyes on his halo beading with tears. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m…I’m good,” Impulse gasped, “I’m alive. So that’s…that’s cool. Really enjoying that, actually. Uh…Can I sit down?” 

Skizz immediately sat him against the nearest tree trunk, and sat down next to him. 

Impulse fell silent for a minute, focusing on his breathing.

“Skizz,” he said, “I need my trenchcoat and my hat.” 

“Oh.” Skizz sighed. 

“Yeah. Sorry. I need…I need it.” Impulse gasped, “This isn’t gonna…fix itself. This isn’t a small cut. And my wing is…uh…pretty pooched, dude. This is gonna take some actual plague-spreading. Plus, my leg…” 

Skizz buried his head in his hands with a loud CLANK of metal on metal. 

“Of course.” Skizz said, voice not muffled in the slightest.

He sighed. 

“Nothing fatal.” Skizz snapped, “Nothing chronic. Nothing disabling.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, no,” Impulse laughed, turning into a wheezing cough a minute later, “If I…If I lose some of my big guns now, I’ll be worse off. How ‘bout a cold? Can we compromise on a cold?”

“Two day infection. Not a day more.” Skizz warned. 

“Uhhh… let me just…” Impulse closed his eyes, “...Yeah, I got a strain for that. Virulent and toothless. That okay?” 

Skizz groaned. 

“...It’ll have to do.” He muttered, opening his comm, “I’m messaging the Core Clinic to warn them.” 

“Fair enough!” Impulse laughed, “but…seriously. This really hurts, Skizz. Can we…?”

“Yes, we can go to the Hub so you can cough on people,” Skizz groaned, “I’d rather pluck my own wings, but fine. For you, and ONLY for you.” 

Impulse laughed. 

“Thanks, Skizz,” he said, a big smile on his face, “you’re the best.”

“...Am I, though?” Skizz said, “I’m the reason you’re like this. I’m- dude- I shouldn’t be-” 

He banged his head into the tree, with a sound like a rock rattling around an empty trashcan. 

“I should be telling you to cut loose,” He muttered, “Telling you to do what you do best. This is…I’m the reason you’re like this. I’m-” 

“-The reason I’m going to get better,” Impulse cut in. “Skizz. Man. I’m alive. I’m alive, and we’re talking. You didn’t screw up that bad if I’m still alive enough to have this conversation. And like…it’s the bloodmoon, man. Nobody thinks clearly during the bloodmoon. Besides-” 

“Impulse.” Skizz said, voice emotionless, “If the next words out of your mouth are blaming yourself in any way, shape, or form, for what happened to you. I am going to grab you by the hair and dunk you in a bucket of holy water.”  

Impulse laughed.

“Fine. Fine. Can we agree that it was both our faults, then?” he said, “Because, like, dude. I was definitely baiting you all over the place. Sure, you hit me with healing fire, but-” 

Skizz stared at him, his halo blazing with indignant holy fire. 

“-uh, agree that it was a mutual disaster?” Impulse finished awkwardly. 

Skizz sighed, the fire burning itself out. 

“Fine. Fine.” He muttered, banging his head against the tree again.

After a minute, Skizz got up. 

“I’m gonna go get your trenchcoat. Don’t move. Got it?” 

Impulse closed his eyes, and nodded. 

The sun felt so nice against his skin. 

“Iskall, you can stop fussin’,” Stress sighed, yanking her arm away, “I’m alive, aren’t I? Alive? Breathin’? All you need, really.”

“I stabbed you with an iron spear.” Iskall said flatly, “I- I just- we gotta make sure it didn’t break anything.” 

“And you’re not gonna do that by hovering three inches from my shoulder,” Stress sighed, “You didn’t know.” 

“I still shouldn’t have done it. I- we- none of us should have-” Iskall threw his arms up, and leaned against a nearby tree, bracing his metal forearm against the timber and letting his forehead rest on top.

Stress sighed. 

“Would you have blamed me if it was me doin’ the rampaging,” Stress said, “An’ I tracked you all down an’ put your heads on spikes for cutting trees down?” 

Iskall sighed, rubbing at his face with his organic hand.

 “I don’t even remember doing what I did,” He mumbled, letting his forehead rest on his metallic forearm again. Stress winced- Iskall had mentioned before that doing that wasn’t comfortable at all. 

“That’s what the moon does to ya,” Stress said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, “It takes, and it takes, and it never gives back.” 

Iskall went silent. 

Stress went silent too, and joined him in leaning against the tree. 

“I’m sorry.” Iskall said, the words feeling so small and useless leaving his mouth. 

Stress smiled. 

“You’re more sorry than the moon is,” She said quietly, “it’s okay, luv. I’d have done a lot worse if I was in your shoes.” 

Iskall banged his head into the tree. 

“That’s what’s been bothering me,” He sighed, letting it all leak out of him with one great gust of air, “We’ve been locking you all up in those boxes, what, once every nine months or so? And only now do we all realize that if anything, those sterile white cubes have been making everything-” 

“Okay, but,” Stress held up a hand, “Counterpoint. Impulse. He goes moon-mad, gets panicked, and everyone dies of rabies. We didn’t start doin’ any of this outta malice. I mean, I’m not just bees, claws, an’ a pretty face. If I don’t hold back, the whole forest walks to war.” 

Iskall sighed. 

“True. But. We…we can’t do this. We can’t keep doing this. No matter what, we need to find a new way forward. Because this…what we’ve been doing- it’s wrong. And we have to find…some other way of securing the place before a bloodmoon. Something. Anything.” 

Stress hummed, and drummed her claws against the tree. 

“Would it cheer ya up,” She said, “If…you mentioned you had an idea. Would it cheer ya up to tell me what that was?” 

Iskall lifted his head from his forearm. He had some angry red dents from where the metal had been pressing painfully into his skin. 

“...it might. I…I don’t know if it’ll work. But…we can try it?”

Stress smiled. 

“Tango?”

Tango was sitting in the clearing. He’d plonked down a block of dark oak, and was just…staring into space. Ren was nearby, back in his human shape, passed out on a bed someone had set out. 

And Tango was just…thinking. 

He had a bandage over his wound, but even after being seen to by both Doc and Skizz, Doc wanted to check on him later. 

So noises around him weren’t really entering Tango’s little world at that moment. 

“Tango?” 

He turned his head. 

Keralis was approaching him, eyes full of tears. He had his grey cap in hand, and Tango smiled. It had been so long since he’d seen Keralis wear that thing, and it was honestly a comfort. 

Keralis plonked down a piece of acacia wood next to his, and sat down. 

“Doc…Doc said, that you said, that I attacked you. With a knife.” Keralis said quietly.

“In the water, with a snorkel on, yeah,” Tango snorted, “It’s-” 

And his voice died. 

Normally, he’d say “It’s fine, dude” and move on with his day. But his chest hurt, and the terror and pain- 

Keralis’ face fell. 

“I don’t remember.” He said quietly, turning to face forward, “I don’t remember, Tango. I don’t remember hurting you, I don’t…I don’t remember anything that happened. I went to sleep, and I woke up in this clearing, and now everyone is tired and hurt and sad. And I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know how much that fixes. I don’t know if it can. But I did a bad thing, a monstrous thing, and I don’t remember what it was. And I- I- how can I make it better?” Keralis said, his eyes filling with tears. 

Tango laughed. 

It was a high, bitter thing, cold and empty.

“I think what you can do, for starters, is…Man, I don’t even know. I don’t think any of us were ready for last night. I don’t think…well. Look. You didn’t kill me, so that’s one plus, right? And we’re all still alive. I’m not gonna, uh, rottificate away or nothing, so that’s…good, I think. And the infection wasn’t you, it was Impulse. So…” 

Tango sighed. 

“Can we still be friends?” He asked awkwardly, “Is that okay?” 

Keralis laughed, his voice choked with unshed tears. 

“Yes, Tango. Yes. We can absolutely be friends. And…and next time this happens, we find a new way. A new plan. A new way to make ourselves all safe. So I never- so none of us ever-” 

“So the moon doesn’t get its pound of flesh.” Tango agreed, nodding once, “Yeah. I think…I think…” 

He sighed, and looked away. 

“It’s funny,” Tango said softly, “You spend your whole life thinking you’re the monster, right? But that’s not true, and it never was. A monster isn’t what you are, it’s what you do and why you do it. A monster isn’t a thing that can light the world on fire. Like, by that logic, a box of matches is a monster too. Nah, a monster…” 

Keralis sniffled. 

Tango closed his eyes and craned his head back. 

“A monster is something that takes the goodness in your soul away.” he finished lamely, and Keralis snorted. 

“You don’t have to, Tango.” 

“Oh, but I do. I do.” He said, “We gotta…we gotta think of a new approach. We can’t just keep doing what we’re doing. It doesn’t work.” 

Keralis nodded. 

Both men watched as Skizz walked through the clearing, wearing a trenchcoat and a ten-gallon hat. In his hands he clutched a second huge black trenchcoat, sunglasses, and Impulse’s own stetson. 

They watched Skizz help Impulse to his feet, get him dressed, put the hat and sunglasses on him, and both angel and Demon opened their comms and warped away. 

<ImpulseSV has left the game>

<Skizzleman has left the game> 

Tango smacked his shins with his hands, and sighed mightily. 

“We can’t just sit here and mope. We gotta- check on everyone else,” He said, “I’m alive, and you’re alive, and the sun’s up. Work to do, right?” 

Keralis nodded. 

And both Hermits got up and walked off to help. 

About an hour later, the ground of the clearing started to shake, and everyone turned to see a spade punch through the top block of dirt. 

“-Telling ya, Scar,” Cub said, “something must’ve happened. Like, they’d’ve come for us if somethin’ hadn’t.” 

“Yeah,” Scar’s muffled voice giggled from under the earth, “Or they just forgot. That’s happened before. That’s what the candles were for, after all!” 

xB stared at his own hands in dumbfounded horror as he realized that he had, in fact, completely forgotten about Scar and Cub. He wasn’t alone- Xisuma held his head in his hands, and Grian looked like he was about to bash his head into the nearest oak tree. 

The last few blocks broke, and Cub and Scar poked their heads up out of the hole. 

“Well, hey!” Cub said brightly, “Why do you all look so down in the dumps?” 

“Yeah! How was last night, by the way?” Scar asked with a giggle. 

“Yeah! Good time, bad time, long time? C’mon, don’t leave us hanging!” Cub said.

The gathered hermits stared at them. 

“That good, eh?” Cub asked, and xB crumpled to the ground in peals of crazed laughter. 

Cub and Scar stared at each other, and then at xB.

“Ah. I see.” Cub said awkwardly, breaking a few more blocks to allow Scar easier egress.

“Yup. Plain as day.” Scar said, his legchair crawling out of the hole, “Fun, fun, fun!” 

“So,” Cub said, “On the topic of that fun, uh…what fresh hell happened while we were out?” 

“Oh, boy,” Mumbo said, “You guys might want to sit down for this one…” 

Scar snorted.

Chapter Text

The Hub was a crowded place, filled with players of all shapes and sizes. A madhouse of humans and hybrids and demons and aliens and ghosts and ghoulies. Builds ranged from faithful dirt shacks to cobblestone towers to artfully crafted office buildings to whole cathedrals, with massive roads packed with thousands of players at any given time. 

Cheap shops, fancy restaurants, the storefronts selling the thousand minor necessities every player needed. From razorblades to coffee filters, plasteel and rubies to forks and spoons, if you needed it, it was here. 

Impulse and Skizz looked on the chaos, leaning out from a grimy alley and peering at the teeming masses. Impulse was limping, obvious even through his trenchcoat, and Skizz winced. 

“Okay,” He sighed, “Go nuts.” 

Impulse chuckled.

And he kept chuckling as he stepped into the middle of the crowd, and started coughing. Not covering his nose or mouth, just coughing in every direction. It got him a few dirty looks, and Skizz sighed and trailed after him. 

And they kept walking. 

With every breath, every cough, every sneeze, Skizz could feel the plague starting to spread. It was just a cold. Just a simple, harmless cold. 

Skizz opened his comm and sent a quick message to the Core Clinic’s manager.

<Skizzleman> hey so uh. A little birdie told me that there’s gonna be a wave of cold cases rolling through in the next few days 

<Skizzleman> so like. Get your cold cures ready 

He closed his comm, and winced as Impulse exhaled next to a huge crowd of cackling cat hybrids. Skizz waved his hand discreetly at a few of them, clearing out a lingering infection, and kept tailing after Impulse. 

…Whose limp had steadied. He was still stumbling a little, but his leg was working a whole lot better. 

Skizz sighed, and rubbed at his face. There were immunocompromised people for whom a simple cold could be devastating, and there wasn’t much he could do. The Core Clinic would disseminate a cure, and could message him personally if any cases got out of hand, but…

The cleanup was gonna be biblical.

“We better find a way around this…” Skizz sighed.  

<ImpulseSV has joined the game> 

<Skizzleman has joined the game>  

Skizz sighed, eyes looking up to see the clearing empty at last. The hermits were gone, and the sun was starting to set. 

Beside him, Impulse looked…fantastic. He threw the trenchcoat over his arm and spread his wings, both covered in skin again. His tail was off the ground, twitching and twisting, and his face and eyes were both healthy. He was smiling, hopping from one foot to the other- a ton of pep in his step. 

 “You look better, dude.” Skizz said fondly, letting his wings sag. 

“I feel AMAZING right now!” Impulse said, punching the air with his free hand, “I feel like I could wrestle a god to the ground. I feel like I could run a marathon and then bench five hundred pounds!” 

“...you can already bench five hundred pounds in your true form.” 

“Yeah, and I’ve got seven arms. Seven. Arms. You distribute the load like that, it’s not hard. Anyway! I feel great!” Impulse said, and Skizz sighed in relief. 

“Thank god.” he said quietly, rubbing his face. 

“Skizz? Buddy? You okay?” 

“I…I’m fine,” Skizz said with a smile, “I’m fine, buddeh. I’m just- I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

The darkness was starting to grow, and Skizz felt a small stab of panic. He felt…weary. Desiring of rest. But he couldn’t rest. No, no, Couldn’t rest. Couldn’t allow himself to rest. Or. Or- 

Sleep was dangerous sleep was-

He mentally smacked himself. It would be fine. It had to be fine. Right? Didn’t it?

…Didn’t it? 

“Skizz?” Impulse asked. 

“I feel…weird,” Skizz said, “I think I need to sit down.” 

Before he could say anything else, Impulse had a block placed behind him, and Skizz sat down on it, staring at a tree. 

The moonlight creeping over the trees was… clean. 

Healthy white light, shining down from above. Not diseased and soaked in blood. This was a loving moon, a faithful friend that didn’t want his mind or his soul. 

And as Skizz stared at it, he felt a weird tickle in the back of his mind. 

“I…I remember something,” Skizz said, and Impulse froze. 

“You…what?” 

“I remember…I remember a thing. A single thing. I remember- a demon. A monster. And it was sick. It was so, so sick, and I was so scared. I wanted to make it healthy. So I cured…and I cured…” 

Skizz stared at the ground. 

“I don’t remember anything else.” 

Impulse’s face fell. 

He placed a block beside Skizz, and sat down next to him. Wrapped a huge batlike wing over skizz’s shoulder, and let his friend lean on him. 

“That was me.” Impulse said. 

“I know.” Skizz nodded. 

“You remember something, though. And that’s more than the rest of us get, huh?” Impulse said, and Skizz nodded. 

“If I’m remembering…I think…” 

“I think we should count our blessings.” Impulse whispered, “We should count our blessings that you got to remember anything at all. The moon doesn’t leave me with anything. It only takes. You should…” 

“We should talk to the others.” Skizz said quietly, “I don’t think I’m alone on this one.” 

Impulse nodded. 

“So… you were aware, then?” 

Skizz snorted. 

“If you call…THAT…awareness. I don’t…I was nothing, dude. I was empty. I was a robot. I saw sickness and I cured it. That’s all. No Skizzleman, just…” 

He waved his hands, and wrapped them around himself. 

Impulse tightened the grip of his wing around Skizz’s shoulders. 

“We’ll fix it, dude,” Impulse said, “We’ll fix all of it.” 

Skizz snorted. 

“I should be saying that to you,” he said weakly, “I’m the one that-” 

“Hey. Hey. What was our deal, again?” 

Skizz sighed. 

“Don’t beat yourself up.” 

Impulse nodded emphatically.

“So…what now?” Skizz asked, “I mean, if I’m not safe from the moon, then…nobody is.” 

“I don’t think any of us were ever safe,” Impulse sighed, rubbing his face, “I think, if you play the odds long enough, the improbable can become your reality. And in our case, we played the odds, and we lost. So…I guess…we try something different. And we make changes. And see if it works. And if it doesn’t, well, I guess we learned something.” 

Skizz nodded. 

“I never want to hurt you ever again.” He said, and Impulse smiled. 

“Me either, buddy.” 

Both Hermits closed their eyes, as the moon slowly rose overhead. 

Chapter Text

NINE MONTHS LATER…

<Joehillssays> are we all in position? 

<Keralis1> Yes!!! 

<Iskall85> you know it, dude 

<ImpulseSV> as ready as I’ll ever be 

<ImpulseSV> iskall this plan better work 

<Iskall85> if it doesn’t we’ll all just respawn.

<Iskall85> this isnt the end of the world 

<Docm77> its worth a try! 

Skizz sighed, and he shook his head.

He looked up from his comm, at the confines of Impulse’s safety cube. At where Impulse was still sitting on his bed, golden chains around his wrists. 

Impulse yawned, and his eyes sagged. 

“God, I’m tired,” Impulse muttered, and Skizz smiled. 

“That’s good, right? It means it’s you guys this time. Like it’s supposed to be.” 

“Yeah.” Impulse nodded, eyes sagging, “Like it’s s’pposed to be…” 

“Yeah!” Skizz said brightly, walking over to the wall of the cube and sealing it up with blocks. Sealing himself inside of the box, with Impulse. 

He turned and looked. 

The cube had been furnished with all sorts of things. Tables, bolted to the floor. A sofa facing a TV that had been inset into the wall. A cupboard with snacks and water, and full of games and other amusement. A bucket of lego, on Skizz’s insistence. 

Posters. Reprints, to be sure, but posters showing some of Impulse’s favourite bands. A few pictures of them, together. Skizz had swapped out the white wool for dark grey with a red floor, to better match the colours of the Pit. To put Impulse more at ease. 

And as Impulse curled up in the bed, Skizz wandered over to the sofa and sat down. He turned on the TV, and started flicking through the sports channels until he found a good UHC server. 

Skizz’s comm buzzed. 

<The Blood Moon is rising…> 

The chains rattled as Stress slept, and Iskall sat at the table they’d installed in her safety box, shuffling cards. On the TV in the corner, he’d queued up the first SAW film, if she wanted to watch that. 

Iskall laid out the cards for solitaire, humming to himself as he waited. The table had Stress’s crochet hook and some yarn on it, plus an extra set for him if he wanted to join in. 

All around the cube, they’d placed potted plants. Nothing with a wooden stem, of course, but lots of ferns and flowers and other things like that. And of course, they’d switched out the sterile white for greens and blues, to give the cube a more foresty theme. 

Stress stirred, and Iskall hummed to himself, pulling a beer from his inventory and popping the cap. 

Time for the moment of truth. If Doc was right, then he’d be fine. If Doc was wrong, it was time for a messy respawn. Oh well. 

He took a swig, and the mattress springs creaked as Stress sat up fully. Iskall took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. 

Stress hissed. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay calm. 

Ignore her. 

She wasn’t dangerous. Ignore her. She was his friend. Ignore her. 

Iskall turned over a card, and moved it into the stack, humming to himself. 

And then- 

“∴⍑ᔑℸ ̣…∴⍑|| ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ? ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ᔑᒲ ╎?”

Iskall hummed. Such an odd sound. Like English after it got fed through a threshing machine. The syllables plucked at the air, warping and distorting whatever Stress was trying to say into incomprehensible gibberish. 

But. She was trying to say something. So he looked up, and gestured for her to come sit with him. 

And he kept playing cards, unbothered. 

Footsteps padded across the wool, clawed fingers coming to rest on the back of the other chair. Iskall looked up into Stress’s eyes, both shining red, and took another swig of his beer. 

“╎ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ᓭᒲᒷꖎꖎ ᔑᓭ⍑ 𝙹リ ||𝙹⚍. ↸𝙹 ||𝙹⚍ ∴ᔑリℸ ̣ ℸ ̣𝙹 ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ?” Stress sounded cautious, and Iskall smiled. 

“I have no idea what you’re saying, dude. Beer?” 

He pulled a second bottle out of his inventory, and offered it to Stress, giving it a little waggle. 

She took it cautiously, peering at the label and the cold glass. 

Iskall fished the five of hearts out from the top of the pile, and placed it on the six of spades. 

Stress hissed in a deep breath, and it took an enormous amount of self-control for Iskall to not flinch. 

“ᔑ ʖᒷᒷ∷? ℸ ̣⍑ᔑℸ ̣’ᓭ…⎓⚍リリ||. ╎ᓭꖌᔑꖎꖎ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷᓭ ℸ ̣𝙹 ᓭ⍑ᔑ∷ᒷ ᔑ ʖᒷᒷ∷. ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ ||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ‘╎ᒲ…” Stress said carefully. Her eyes fell on her crochet, and Iskall watched as she snatched it up and rushed over to the bed, sitting down on it and staring at him. 

He didn’t move, just kept laying out his cards. 

“We can watch a movie later, if you want,” Iskall said, taking another swig of his beer and turning back to his cards. 

Stress stared at him. 

Iskall hummed to himself, moving another card out of the way and revealing the ace of hearts. Fantastic, that was just what he needed. The two, three, and four stacked up on top of it quickly. 

“Don’t suppose you’re up for a round of cribbage?” Iskall snorted, looking at the board. Yeah, what with Stress talking in enchanting table, that was right out. Oh well. 

He kept playing cards. 

A bee landed on the table, and crawled over, staring at him. Lost in its compound eyes were thousands and thousands of pinpricks of red light. 

Iskall ignored it. 

He kept humming to himself. 

More bees buzzed over, landing on the back of his chair, on the other seat, and on the table. 

He brushed one off his beer bottle, and took another drink. 

Two noises captured his attention. 

One, the sound of a beer hissing open. 

And two, a faint rustling. 

Iskall glanced up to see Stress taking a drink of the beer, and putting it down. And then- carefully- she started casting stitches with her crochet hook. 

Iskall hummed, grabbing his own hook. 

Yeah, why not? 

They fell into a companionable silence, as yet more bees drifted over to keep an eye on him. 

Zedaph adjusted his byglass. 

It was like a spyglass, but two of them, and bound together with extra strips of copper. One spyglass for each eyeball. A neat little invention of Joe’s. 

With the byglass, he could see much farther.  

Tango’s base zoomed into view, and he scanned over the outer perimeter of it. The fence Tango had installed around the main portion of his base was doing its job just fine, and the torch spam was keeping the place brightly lit. No mobs were spawning in the walls, from what Zed could see. 

Perched on his tree, far, far FAR away from Tango, Zed had a perfect view of his dear friend. 

Tango was pacing back and forth, wandering from one spot to another. His hands were wreathed in flame, and he would occasionally snap his head around to follow some unexpected movement- and then relax, and keep wandering. 

Patrolling his “fortress” for intruders. 

He looked…

Calm. 

Tango looked calm. 

Zed smiled, zooming in some more. Yup. Tango walked over to a burning block of netherrack, and warmed his back against it, watching as his friend’s shoulders slumped in relief. 

Satisfied, Zed tucked his byglass into his inventory and started climbing down the tree. 

He had things to do. 

It was hard to tell time, during a blood moon. 

Bdubs thought on this as he took another slurp of his coffee and sat back on the couch with Mumbo. 

They were watching a program about how things were made in a factory. In this case, comm circuit boards. Mumbo was starting at the TV with rapt attention, his wings wrapped around himself like a blanket. His eyes were glazed over red, and Bdubs took another sip of coffee. 

Mumbo’s hands emerged from his leathery blankets clutching a mug of warm blood (reheated in the microwave, natch), and he took another slurp, eyes glued to the TV. 

Bdubs ran a hand through his hair, and opened his comm. By some absolute miracle, it was still working, and he was delighted by that. 

<BdoubleO100> Mumbo is absolutely glued to the TV 

<Grian> figures. What are you watching? 

<BdoubleO100> factory program type thing. 

<Grian> figures. 

<BdoubleO100> also sound off who’s not dead 

<Iskall85> stress is leaning on me and laughing every time I mess up a stitch 

<Welsknight> Jevin has completely abandoned his skeleton and is currently refusing to leave his bucket 

<Zedaph> looked at tango with my byglass earlier. He’s calm. The fences work!

<Skizzleman> Impulse is sucking at mario kart 0.:::) 

<Skizzleman> correction, Impulse is breaking both controllers and sulking. 

<FalseSymmetry> Ren is currently eating an entire cow. 

Bdubs grinned. 

<BdoubleO100> great job guys. Doc was right. How is doc actually x?? 

<Xisuma> Wandering around his base laughing to himself. He seems pretty calm. Putting those fences up to keep the mobs out was a great idea. 

<Joehillssays> I’ll say. Cleo’s just sitting back and doing some sewing. She keeps stabbing herself with the needle but they’re trying and that’s the important thing 

Bdubs closed his comm, and took another slurp of his coffee. 

Mumbo glanced over to him, his red eyes uncomprehending. 

“||𝙹⚍ ᓭᒲᒷꖎꖎ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ʖ↸⚍ʖᓭ. ||𝙹⚍ ᓭ⍑𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ !¡∷𝙹ʖᔑʖꖎ|| ᓭℸ ̣𝙹!¡ ᓭᒲᒷꖎꖎ╎リ⊣ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ ⍑╎ᒲ ∴⍑ᒷリ ||𝙹⚍ ↸𝙹リ’ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ⍑╎ᓭ ⎓ᔑᓵᒷ, ℸ ̣⍑𝙹⚍⊣⍑.”

“Yeah, right back atcha, Mumbo.” Bdubs chuckled, taking another slurp of coffee. 

Discreetly, Bdubs checked his clock. The night sky showing on the surface was red, with a dark red moon dripping blood onto the ground below. The sky looked desolate, and evil, and Bdubs smirked as the moon ticked a little towards the horizon- just past its zenith and sinking into the ground. 

The night was drawing to a close. 

Mumbo took another slurp of his hot blood, and Bdubs let out a breath he’d been holding. 

“Y’know, Mumbo, I’m kinda glad we switched up our methods,” Bdubs said idly, “I know you don’t understand a word I’m saying, but you look a lot happier.” 

Mumbo frowned. 

“ʖᒷ ᑑ⚍╎ᒷℸ ̣. ╎’ᒲ ℸ ̣∷||╎リ⊣ ℸ ̣𝙹 ∴ᔑℸ ̣ᓵ⍑.” And he returned his gaze to the TV, taking another slurp of blood. 

Bdubs smiled. 

“Whatever you say, big guy. Whatever you say.” 

He looked at the clock again. 

The moon sank a little closer to the horizon. 

And Bdubs sat back and had another sip of his coffee.