The moment Xisuma activated or modified whatever invisible code data the poor creature had, the thing thrashed.
It moved with a high rattling wail. Its wings opened, a dozen eyes, a hundred eyes, a thousand eyes all flared open in a see of blinking rippling sight. Mumbo felt nausea lift in his stomach, nausea twisting until Etho had to steady him with one arm. Vertigo struck, both men struggling to stay standing as the creature moved in crooked twisting movements, wailing loud an echoing piercing sound. It wasn't something they heard, but something they felt in their brain which burned under a molten heat. The touch of magma, of soul fire and the aching throb of packed ice.
Etho watched it writhe, eyes fluttering and flaring through agony and shock. Etho thought, 'Is this how it looks to watch a god die?'
Rage was an excellent motivator. Pearl had come to learn that personally.
Her terraforming was beginning to reach an end, her man-made mountain sculpted by her diligent eye and callused hand. Hours of backbreaking work left her sweating and sore, but it was better than the alternative.
Someone in the town of Boatem had clearly ratted on her unhealthy but impressive building prowess. Pearl was willing to bet money on it being Scar, since Impulse had faced her wrath once before and knew better than to challenge her.
(She realized quite early on that her house had been built…facing the wrong direction. One day filled with effort, spite, and a potentially herniated disc left Impulse thoroughly frightened.)
Pearl always imagined she was quite a generous host. She went so far as to always have fresh food on hand, comfortable pillows and a spare bed for anyone who needed it.
This of course required her guests to beinvitedin, which Stress and Iskall certainly were not at the moment.
Pearl stood at her door, one eyebrow twitching as Iskall peered around her home and her recent mountainous terraforming project with one of his well knownhmmm.He pursed his lips, tapping his chin and squinting his biomechanical eye with little metal adjustments a bit like the gears of a small watch. Pearl wondered if his eye worked like a spyglass, or if it made that noise every time he looked at something at the end range of his vision.
"Aww, don't look at us like that," Stress said, tapping the end of her foot on the door, scuffing the floorboards shyly, "we're worried about ya'!"
"Yes! We're worried!" Iskall agreed, nodding fervently.
Pearl scoffed, shifting her weight to co*ck her hip pointedly. She tapped her elbow with one hand, trying to radiate as much hostility as she could.
"Aww, none of that now," Stress said, seeing right through Pearl's attempt quite easily, "I reckon you're still mad 'bout that Scout thing, yeah?"
Pearl scoffed, this time more than just for show. "Me? Upset?Well,maybe a tad bit. It's not like me warning everyone about a server-destroying monster isimportantor anything!"
"Huh," Iskall said, sharing a glance with Stress quite slowly, "so uh, yes. About that. Erm, have you…seenthis Scout yet?"
Pearl glared. Iskall shifted to hide partially behind Stress, who stood strong and refused to bend under Pearl's expression.
"I don't thing we need that hostility here, missy!" Stress declared, reaching out to gently pat Pearl's shoulder. The woman huffed, shaking her head until her flower crown shifted. "I know you're upset! But I don't want no misunderstandings here! Not allowed!"
Pearl floundered, jaw opening and closing before she made a wordless noise of frustration. She spun around, storming into her home but leaving the door open. Iskall and Stress followed, quite happy to help themselves to bits of bread on the table, set out for any guests.
"Ooh, this is delicious," Iskall stated, lifting the half bit of lingering bread in his hand, "so! Scout is ah, a Watcher? Yes? That is what you called him?"
"Yeah, I'm confused about that," Stress said, "is that a species? Like a hybrid?"
Pearl frowned, then sighed so heavily it shook her body. She said, "let me put the kettle on, then we can talk."
In the time it took to gather the water and set it to boil, Pearl had the opportunity to dwell on what to say. There were plenty of things she knew, plenty of personal stories and experiences she could pull on. Admittedly, she had only mentioned a scant little of it to Xisuma in the past since it hadn't been necessary. Even now, how important was her past compared to the general information of what Watchers were and their shared cruelty.
Stress and Iskall were her friends. She could trust them- it was her panic and neurosis acting up against the trauma she had experienced before. They did not deserve her hostility and misplaced aggression.
"Okay," Pearl said, forcing her tight muscles to relax as she settled in her chair. She distributed the mugs of tea to her two friends, watching as Stress sniffed it with a poorly disguised wince.
"So…" Iskall said, twirling the mug around for something to do. The whirring of his eye made Pearl smile slightly, the sound was vaguely grounding.
"Watcher's aren't like Players," Pearl explained quietly, hating the anxiety that came with discussing any sort of these topics, "they're different. Like Admins, but more than that."
"Oh, so a different species or something, yeah?" Stress asked, taking a brave sip of her tea, "I hadn't heard of them before."
"They're not the friendly kind," she said, "I've theoreized with a few others before, we think Watchers live between servers and the main hub."
"Between servers?" Stress echoed, open surprise obvious.
Iskall leaned forward, speculation running wild in his head. The man had always been a creative innovative sort, not as technical as Doc but just as brilliant.
"A voidwalker?" Iskall theorized, tilting his head slightly as he thought. "No, its a species thing. Hmm, but they aren't Admins, you said?"
"Different entirely," Pearl confirmed, sighing quietly. "From what I was able to understand, they're…similar to Admins, but canseeinformation without a panel."
"A spectator," Iskall breathed, looking stunned, "they can spectate while corporeal?"
"I don't understand a single thing ya two are sayin'." Stress chirped happily, slyly pouring her tea into a potted plant near the table.
"Okay, so," Iskall said, using both hands to gesture wildly, "imagine like, we are all potatoes."
"Oh dear, I don't want to be a spud!"
"We're potatoes, Stress," Iskall repeated, "except some of us are sweet potatoes, where we're different and not the same but still potato-esq."
"Xisuma is a sweet potato, I hear ya," Stress said, nodding warily, "and these Watchers are ah, turnips?"
Pearl swallowed, unwilling to disrupt their theorizing. She hadn't quite the heart to admit the horrible truth of what they had learned so quickly. She didn't want to tell anyone, let alone her two friends'Hello, we think Watchers are created from Admins actually, not a different species entirely.'
No, she'd pass along her worries to Xisuma only. For now, she could at least let her friends know the threats.
"They actively toyed with us," Pearl explained quietly, fiddling with her cup of tea, "created monuments overnight. Gave us gifts if we did well, spoke in riddles carved into bedrock."
"Bedrock," Iskall repeated, looking ill at the idea.
"They weren't kind creatures," Pearl repeated, "they're cruel and evil. They threatened to kill us all- and I have belief they could make it a permadeath."
Iskall fidgeted, looking ill at the thought. Stress puffed her cheeks, letting it out with a threadbare whistle.
"Well, that's ruddy mean innit?" she said with a finality to it that made Pearl wonder who would win in a fight against her.
"A permadeath is no joke, Stress," Iskall warned.
"Good thing I aint joking," she stated, standing abruptly so she could place her hands on the table and lean her weight onto its surface dramatically, "if Scoutie is all so bloody dangerous, why don't we pay 'em a visit?"
"Wha-now?"Iskall asked, blinking his one human eye quickly, "I ah, I mean sure! Yes! Omega idea!"
Pearl didn't feel quite as excited as Stress. She normally felt safe, but now with the knowledge that aWatcherwas here- she felt dread no distance could erase. She wondered if she would ever feel comfortable again.
"I want to talk with Xisuma again," Pearl said. She had avoided the Admin since she originally stormed up and shouted herself blue. The man hadn't given Scout as much caution as he should have, but Pearl knew better than to be petty when such a risk existed. It wasn't Xisuma's fault, he hadn't ever encountered a Watcher before and didn't understand how perilous they were.
"Good!" Stress stated, beaming as she snatched a cookie off of Pearl's counter and casually pet an alpaca wool pillow on a nearby couch. She paused, warily glancing at Pearl before she snatched the entire pillow itself to cram comedicaly into her tiny bag.
The three left Boatem on elytra and acrid gunpowder trailing behind them. They soared around the mountainous peak crafted by Bdubs that separated the western village of Boatem from that of the Big-Eye shopping district and harbor. Fluffy's cave had been made with aesthetics in mind. This clearly had been translated across as the external walls of the cube had been renovated into something like a building. It still protruded oddly from the landscape, but not quite as unfinished or strange at first glance. Someone, potentially Keralis, had constructed a landing stretch along the coastline a very short jaunt from the cube itself. Atop its structure, a small redstone lamp designated that surveillance was in the works.
Pearl wondered just how complex the redstone wiring was. She wasn't an expert, but the careful intricacies of all the various settings made her mind spin. Doc had helped design it, there was no way that it could possibly escape.
'It can destroy bedrock,'her mind whispered tortuously,'how do you know it isn't simply playing with us?'
"Hello!" Stress yowled loudly, landing with a small stagger. Iskall yelped as she swerved last minute, nearly knocking him across the ground with one of her wings. "Whoops!"
Pearl landed quietly, trapped somewhere between simmering anger and dread. She didn't know how to feel entering the cube. She didn't want to.
"I heard that Falsie was here a while ago," Stress shouted, jogging away from the two towards the buildings facade resembling something of a little Italian villa, "she said it was good! XB came too and they went in and had lunch!"
"Theywhat?"Iskall yowled, but Stress had already bounded inside the main doorway.
Pearl and Iskall followed, sharing a healthy amount of caution. The interior of the cube was clean and sanitary- end rods suspended horizontally in long strips across the hallways and towards the main viewing chamber. From what Pearl remembered before the cube had been remodeled for a long term habitation, there were two pathways. One went up to the observation room and controls for room manipulation and other settings. The other pathway descended through a number of chambers which allowed access into the room itself. Pearl knew which way she was going.
"Hello?" Stress shouted, her voice echoing down the hallways. A small noise of interest echoed before Stress hurried upwards to a familiar accent. By the time both Iskall and Pearl entered the observation room, they were watching Keralis and Stress end a hug and saw what had once been a lopsided knitting project on the floor.
"Oh Stress! You brought beautiful faces with you!" Keralis said, giving both Iskall and Pearl a flirtatious wink. He beckoned towards the control panel, some of which had buttons labeled in block letters in Bdub's handwriting. "Are you here to see little Scoutie? The feather-sweater, the ah…the feather-friend!"
"It took you a while to get there," Iskall teased with a small laugh, reaching out to clasp Keralis' forearm in some sort of shared cultural greeting. Keralis giggled, wriggling all his fingers in Pearl's direction.
Pearl didn't glance at him, her focus was intent on the tinted glass that allowed them to peer in but nothing to look the other way. She doubted it would work, Watchers could see far more than people presumed.
"Who has gone in there?" Pearl asked, her voice flat as she glanced over all the different options on the control panel- more light or reduced light. Observer setup to monitor movement patterns. A redstone dropper in one corner for a shower, another with food objects that hadn't been provided yet.
What stood out was the thick red blanket draped heavily across the shaped body in the corner. The very thought of something under that blanket made her feel ill.
"Ah, Princess was in earlier!" Keralis said, swooning on his feet with a dreamy sigh, "it was magical! Just ah, magical! Princess has such a lovely touch,oh,truly to settle such a bigsca-arybeast! Hehe!"
Pearl felt ice trickle down her spine, absolutely horrific to hear. She stared at Keralis, only faintly aware of her jaw dropping slightly. "XBtouched it?"
"Mmhmm," Keralis confirmed, nodding his head while pointing to the blanket inside the enclosure, "look! Scoutie has finally fallen asleep! Bdubs will be so happy, mmhmm!"
Iskall looked at Pearl worriedly, picking up on her distress. Awkwardly, the man asked, "i ah, I reckon that's not a good thing?"
"Nobody has evertoucheda Watcher," Pearl said, feeling numb, "we thought they were partially incorporeal."
"I never heard of a Spectator being able to touch things," Iskall agreed, glancing to Stress who was fumbling through her shulker for something unknown. Iskall let his air out in a rush, rubbing his arm nervously. "Keralis, could you see if Xisuma is busy?"
"Sure! I can call Shashwammy," Keralis chirped, fishing out his communicator clumsily, "watch the birdie, yes? Thank you, beautiful faces!"
The man left, leaving Stress still rummaging in her shulker and Iskall to examine the button control panel.
"It looks like there are speakers," Iskall stated, pointing to one set of buttons, "if you want to question it, you can do so from here. I thought XB mentioned it could speak, but we had thought it was simply because of the wings."
Pearl tried not to feel bitter when she asked: "you've been talking about it without including me?"
"We thought it made you uncomfortable," Iskall said carefully, "and didn't want to stress you out."
Stress appeared from inside her shulker, crowing a sound of joyful success. In her hand she held a ratty stained towel and a dinged metal bucket. She held them aloft proudly, beaming so wide dimples pressed into her cheeks.
"That's where I come in!" Stress stated confidently, swinging the bucket by its thin handle. She grinned at Pearl, clucking her tongue loudly. "You don't get to worry a single little hair! Not when you're in the presence of StressMonster!"
Iskall casually stepped to the side, avoiding Stress' predictable arm movement as she swung both the towel and bucket forward- sloshing a bit of water from the bucket. Pearl hadn't realized the bucket had been filled with faintly fragrant water- at least it was only partially full and not to the very top.
"Do you know a single thing about washing feathers?"
"Nope!" Stress cheered with a wink, slapping her shulker box with her toweled hand, "but I got a load of goodies here!"
"Wait, I'm not understanding," Pearl said, anxiety pressing high on her diaphragm, "are you…going togo in there?"
"Well we can't let little ole' XB have all the fun!" Stress laughed, closing her shulker with a heavy smack. With a surprising amount of strength, she hoisted the purple box into the air under her armpit as the towel lodged itself near her front. "Wish me luck!"
"Bye!" Iskall cheered, busying himself as far as possible to avoid the imminent towel smack on his side.
Pearl shook her head, making steps to chase the older woman. Iskall predicted this and snagged her arm with one callused hand, pointedly shaking his head. Pearl had half a heart to leave and chase Stress from where she vanished down the hallway- her singing echoing down the passageway.
"I- Iskallplease,"Pearl said, refusing to let the woman walk to her death, even if respawn was allowed on this server, "she- she's going to get hurt-,"
"I don't think you have enough faith in her," Iskall said, his voice still lighthearted. He searched for Pearl's face, maintaining eye contact with a steady honest smile, "it's okay, Pearl. Just watch, please?"
Pearl shook her head, her hair stinging from where it whipped against her neck. Iskall's grip tightened, not painful but a stark reminder. "Pearl, we'veallcome from different servers. Have trust in your fellow Hermits."
Pearl swallowed thickly, her eyesight breaking to watch in horror as the main containment cell clicked and opened. If there was an air seal, she couldn't hear it.
Iskall gave her one last look before he released her arm to press on an unassuming acacia wood button. Something clicked, then the sound of Stress' loud happy whistling echoed around them in a comforting tune. Pearl watched as the woman walked into the room, setting her bucket on the ground with a loud clatter and her shulker onto the floor sea lanterns.
"Well!" She said, only minor distortion warping her voice through the speaker systemsomeonehad figured out, "look at this mess! No no! This won't do at all!"
"She's going to get herselfkilled,"Pearl bemoaned quietly, unable to look away from the inevitable tragedy.
"No she isn't," Iskall stated firmly, "there have been a number of hermits that went in there before. XB went in once, so did Keralis and Xisuma. I almost went in but something came up. Stress is the closest thing we have to a medic on the server."
"Youplannedthis," Pearl accused.
Iskall shrugged his shoulders, not looking as sheepish as he should feel, "just a bit. Xisuma and I talked, and you're the only one that actuallyknowsanything about Watchers beyond those weird stuffy old books Xisuma keeps in his super secret Admin inventory. It's a bit easier to just show you that Scout isn't hostile than it is to try and let you open up on your own."
Inside the containment room, Stress was singing something with her thick accent, sorting out a pile of clean white towels and old rags. Bars of flower soap were sorted, pressed into geometric shapes and crumbling a bit that designated their handmade quality rather than server import. Balls of felted wool were set next to her pile of cleaning products, sometimes used in showers instead of scrub brushes.
"Alrighty mister feathers!" Stress shouted, her accent transforming the vowels and consonants into something like"awrigh' Meesta' Feathah!". She placed her hands on her hips,puffing the bangs that spread over her forehead out of her sight, "time to get you all cleaned up!"
Pearl steadied her breathing. She felt her heart rate spike into something loud, the slight hue of grey tinting her vision that came with elevated blood pressure and the normal stress response. She tried to compose herself, ready herself with what sheknewwould haunt her. She turned her gaze away from Stress and looked to the corner of the room where the Watcher hid.
It wrapped itself in a red felted blanket, heavily worn and thickly woven. The red dye was deeper than poppy, something made personally with a combination of squid ink and crimson roses or something else entirely. It had been gifted, clearly loved and freely given, which made Pearl feel an uncomfortable emotion.
The Watcher was not obviously seen. There were no purple particles or hazing fog that accompanied bedrock in Pearl's memory. There was nothing besides the confusing shape and broken feathers littering the floor that designated the creature as her worst fears. It could have, to any other person, been a mob trapped below the fabric.
"Hello!" Stress said again, approaching with heavy steps in her boots. Water sloshed a bit, sending suds across the ground which captured bits of dust and downy sweeping them aside. "I'm gonna give you a bath!"
It trembled at her approach, vibrating little movements as she whistled her jaunty tune. Clasping the blanket, Stress pulled it away to a different corner with hardly a care. Iskall had remarked once that Stress was the worst hermit to have knocking at your doorstep in the morning, namely because she had an affinity for dragging you out of bed by your ankle.
"X just messaged me," Iskall said in a low murmur, trying to comfort Pearl in some way, "he's on his way. He just wants to talk, if you're up for it."
"Yeah," Pearl agreed, feeling dizzy. Iskall offered her a chair, which she accepted.
Stress hummed, folding the blanket to the side. She promised to return it after it was cleaned, offering a different blanket but only after he cleaned.
Scout shook, frozen under the gaze of so many eyes. The limbs were askew and messy, clumsily folded and awkwardly shaped. From what Pearl remembered, it almost lookedstrangernow- with little songbird wings sprouting from larger joints like a budding tree. Bones with an obvious origin and insertion were diverging into little prepubescent offshoots, feathers of different sizes and shapes opening and closing where they hadn't existed before.
"It changed," Iskall said, verbalizing Pearl's own observations, "well…that's interesting."
"Watcher's don't have physical forms," Pearl stated absentmindedly, trying to study the creature better, "or we had thought that."
"Hmm," Iskall said, pulling a spyglass from his pocket to peer closer to the creature. He did so for a few moments, zooming in and out before he drew it away and said fairly confidently:"so…these Watchers…they're scary,no?"
"Horrifying," Pearl agreed.
"Hmm," Iskall said. He passed her his spyglass with a knowing expression and said casually: "well, your big scary Watcher has fleas."
"What?"Pearl asked, choking on the sharp inhale. Saliva trapped itself in her throat, struggling past her epiglottis into her trachea. She coughed until her eyes watered, then coughed for good measure. By the time she recovered, Stress was dumping a bucket of sudsy water on the largest of the feathered appendages and standing aside as the residue washed away in dark brown and red grime. Pearl couldn't see the fleas, but she could see the trademark bloody water which always accompanied fleas and ticks and others parasites trapped on animals.
"Seems a bit…unhygienic, for a big powerful species to get parasites," Iskall said pointedly, "and to be so afraid of simple little players. No?"
Pearl's arms felt cool, her hands tingling from the lack of air or the level of adrenaline in her body. This didn't make sense- none of it did.
Watchers were terrifying. They were faceless hideous creatures that toyed with people for their own sick amusem*nt. They influenced them towards darker decisions, dragged them to conclusions and watched the chaos that ultimately unfolded.
"I don't understand," Pearl said, hearing her voice but wondering if it was a stranger saying it. "None of this…it doesn't make sense."
"We were wondering about that too," Iskall said cheerily. He took her hand, squeezing it gently in his. The touch was welcoming, grounding in a sense. "We just want to talk and figure out what's going on."
Stress sang a happy tune, whistling loud yet gentle. She rolled her sleeves high, securing them around her freckled forearms. Setting the bucket on the ground, she drew a floor broom from her shulker and set it to the side with a satisfied huff.
"Okay mister feathers!" she said, fishing a large wet sponge attached to a bamboo stick. "I'm gonna sponge ya' now! Like a little ole sponge bath but with less water!"
Stress approached with no regard for her personal safety. She reached out, poking the largest wing with the wet sponge.
Scout bristled, the enormous wing curling tighter. It reminded Iskall of a large mollusk, perturbed by something poking it. Scout was as active as a clam, or maybe an oyster.
"D'aww, don't be like that," Stress said, approaching to gently rub the sodden sponge on the wing again. It shuddered, pulling tighter inwards away from her touch.
"You're a cranky fella," she scolded, setting the sponge aside. She didn't miss the grey stain spreading on the yellow surface, dirt adhered from however long it had lived below the ground. Stress said, "just a little more! Gotta get you all clean before you can take a nap!"
Scout bristled, the upper smaller wings flapped oddly, jerking with neurologic reflex. Their odd ataxic jerking settled once Stress clucked at it, tossing a wet towel across the closest enormous wing.
From what Stress could comprehend, Scout consisted of multiple odd appendages with feathery offshoots which sprouted from its main body. She had heard that Scout had three main sets- the outer largest wings somehow integrated into its humanoid arms, a secondary set where an elytra would fit, and a third set of wings awkwardly located towards its rear end.
It was difficult to differentiate one pair of wings from the others based only on the flared filthy vanes. Stressassumedshe was working on the main set, the right one since the feathers arched that direction.
"You're filthy, aren't ya?" Stress hummed, dragging the towel off to flop with a squelch on the floor. It was disgusting, as expected, but she had brought plenty of towels. She dunked the towel into the water, wringing it out before she threw it over the wing.
Scout made a noise, not quite a chuff but something distressedand miserable. Stress knew the rumble of an angry hoglin, the grunting of a charging ravager. Scout uttered a sound not unlike a chicken ruffled and annoyed at being carried away from a delicious meal.
"Oh, you big baby," Stress cooed, stepping yet closer to manually drag the towel down the feathers, then starting at the top of the larger covert feathers to drag down with the direction of the feathers. Dirt flaked off in caked on chunks, mud peeling away from the fragile broken vanes. Bits of gravel slid free from the base of the feathers, trapped against the origin of quill to skin. Stress was loath to admit that Scout smelled of mildew and detritus. It wasn't a good smell, but she was an expert in herding cats and unwieldy patients.
"No you don't!" she teased gently, using her palm to gently press the entire limb lower. It had started to creep upwards, elevating like a tent to try and hide from a different vantage.
Scout made another noise, not bird but notnotbird.
"Oh stop it," she scolded, sweeping the towel down once more. Sand slid free from between the feathers, shockingly obvious on the sea lanturn floor. Bits of moss peeled away from one feather, looking old and dried out. Stress sighed at it, feeling terribly sad for such a miserable creature.
"Alright, you've got six wings, mister," Stress said softly, using one hand to grasp the top of the enormous wing and tug it down. It followed her movement, shifting in her grip obediently to flatten downward. More feathers were exposed, matted with dirt and clay. She picked out the obvious bits, tossing aside disgusting things with a careful steady hand. It would take hours at this rate, but she had a willing hand.
"Iskall!" she shouted, waving one slimy hand towards the observation wall. Smiling widely, she teased, "I need your expertise here!"
Four hands were better than two, but six wings were overwhelming. Scout wasn't entirely compliant, often jerking away like a timid scared dog. Iskall spoke in a gentle voice, keeping a constant commentary which helped somewhat. When either Stress or Iskall stopped speaking, the feathers rose and bristled strangely. A few gentle words had Scout settling once more.
It was easy to see how this scared creature was the cryptid of the Boatem Hole. It was painfully shy, curling away with more quiet frightened noises at each stroke. Feathers were realigned with Stress' nimble fingers. Fleas leapt free as potions were applied to rags and fumigated the pests hiding below the feathers. Ticks, increasingly rare, were plucked with pliers as Iskall prattled on about his new plans for the mountains.
"Aww, you're a big softie," Stress cooed, plucking more broken feathers away from ill looking skin. Scout shuddered as she moved its enormous wing, patches of rotten feathers cut carefully with shears. The creature was miserable, but somehow relaxing in their presence.
"Can you pull this one back?" Stress asked, using her forearm to try and lift the main wing. She said: "there was something white under here, I wanna see if there's any fungus in all this muck."
"Mmm," Iskall hummed, trying to coax the large wing to lift. The outer pin feathers, torn beyond recognition, opened and closed with rhythmic muscle undulation, struggling with an internal conflict. The wing lifted under Iskall's relentless prodding, the creature rattling a quiet groan or a small sad whimper.
"Ahah!" Stress said, snatching a soapy rag from their limited supply of clean water. She ducked down, one feather knocking a flower from her hair. "Gotcha! I see ya!"
The main door opened, a gentle steady greeting had Iskall chirping a hello.
"Hello!" Stress chimed, ducking onto her knees to try and wriggle below the massive limb. "Don't mind me! Just cleaning some stuff!"
"Stress…" Pearl said, having accompanied Xisuma inside the chamber. "I…I really don't…"
"Aww, Scoutie's just a big softie!" Stress said, giggling slightly as the big wing in question flared and readjusted with weird muscle movements, potentially recognizing its name.
Pearl didn't look so sure, trying to stay as far away as possible. Xisuma had less caution, approaching with his thick protective armour. He observed Scout, eying the parasites and dirt littering the floor. He frowned at the sight, displeased by the poor state of their one-friend.
Xisuma cleared his throat, the noise filtering through his speakers in a odd garbled mess. Scout bristled, one of the smaller wings no larger than a canary flapped near the peak of the winged mass.
"Hello Scout,"Xisuma stated. "My name is Xisuma, I am the admin of this server we have named Hermitcraft."
Scout did not react to the words, merely the tone of voice. It shifted away from him, as reactive as a cod fish trapped in a small bucket.
Xisuma tilted his head slightly, his visor no longer parallel to the box's floor. He repeated in a loud clear voice: "Hello Scout, my name is Xisuma."
Scout did not respond, the various wings fluttering slightly as the large external wing tried to curl inwards protectively. Stressmonster, now on her back to slide under the lowest feathers and reach the underside of the wing, swatted the appendage with her filthy rag.
"Oi! I'm still down here ya big ball of fluff!" she scolded gently, using one of her legs to try and nudge the appendage outwards again and not trap her inside the multiple layers. Scout shuddered, puffing with a quiet alarmed noise not unlike a hedgehog.
Xisuma hummed quietly, contemplating the situation. He turned, glancing at Pearl and asked more serious than she was used to seeing the admin. "These Watchers, how did they communicate with you?"
Pearl flinched, taken aback by the blunt question. The admin had previously ignored all of her warnings of the creatures, something must have changed.
"I- they wrote," Pearl said with a shudder. "Not like our communicators, there…there was some sort of…I don't know. It was almost like a text-to-voice, but they weren't ever trulypresent."
"Oh?" Iskall asked, keenly interested by that source of information. "XB mentioned that Scout directly parroted him, enough that we figured it had vocal chords."
Xisuma nodded slowly, eying the creature with a sharp eye. "It's possible. There's a function that admins have but rarely use- it's more to communicate with other code-viewers. It wouldn't beunlikethat, but regular players were never made to hear it."
"It wasn't exactly pleasant," Pearl remembered.
Stressmonster wriggled her way further, giggling slightly to herself. She krept further into the ball of feathers, alarming the creature as its rear set flared and flapped frantically, stirring dust and bits of debris from where it had lodged itself. Stress kept giggling, the creature chuffing loud and anxious as it moved backwards, attempting to somehow escape her presence as she squirmed quite towards the belly of the beast.
"Stress!" Xisuma said loudly, grasping her barely-seen ankle. With one movement of considerable strength, the admin pulled her from below the creature with one swift tug. She squealed, hair flying behind her as she dragged across the ground in a trail of dirt.
"It isn't polite to go looking between people's legs," Xisuma scolded her gently, keeping his eyes locked on Scout.
"Yeah Stress," Iskall teased, helping her up. His eye whirred, watching Scout finally close and curl in on itself miserably, if only slightly cleaner.
"I'm actually here because I heard a word from Etho," Xisuma explained, finally stepping back. The admin contorted his hands, moving them through a series of graceful arcs and movements to manipulate something invisible to the rest of them. Pearl knew about the admin panel and console commands, she had once known a dear friend who could do the same.
"Oh? What's that lousy man up to?" Iskall asked. "I hadn't seen him at home before I left."
"That's because he's been in the End," Xisuma explained, "we had a theory of course. End-dwellers and void-walkers view the world through a different light spectrum. Etho had speculated that underground, Scout may have been using a similar approach."
"Ultraviolet light?" Iskall guessed, his frown heard in his tone of voice. "You really think that bringing in some raw End-rods will show us something?"
"It's worth a try. I reached out to a few sources off-server. Nobody has ever actuallyseena Watcher outside of specific environments, and even then reports are rare."
'Reports only came from Evo,'Pearl wanted to say.
"He should be arriving in a short while," Xisuma explained, smiling to Stress and her dirty appearance, "thank you so much for giving our friend a bath."
"D'aww, it was nothing much," Stress said with a shy grin. She tapped her foot, scuffing the wet mud with her shoe, "he's still pretty filthy. I reckon a good dunk in a river might do the trick!"
"I'll keep that in mind," Xisuma said.
When Etho returned, he had a canvas bag secured tightly to protect the naturally flimsy End-rods in their natural state. Normally, hermits transported the thin core and manufactured it into their standard light source. Like this, the rods were fragile and more likely to start an open fire or break in transport. The man had a clear suspicion that Pearl was reluctant and curious to see.
"Alright, happy campers," Etho greeted them, setting the satchel down with a careful hand. He eyed the small crowd, blinking lazily with the ease of a predator.
Iskall and Stress had left, letting Mumbo know that their mission was successful for dragging Pearl out of her home. With Pearl and Xisuma actually talking again, Mumbo found the need to play mediator between the two in case the more zesty Boatem resident started shouting once more. Pearl was a gentle heart, but she had a streak of rebellion brighter than a pink sheep.
Etho had nothing against the suit wearing man, in fact they often got along quite well when they weren't breaking servers or causing enough lag for the world to cease functioning. It always happened at least twice a year, afterall.
"So, these are raw End-rods," Etho explained, glancing at Pearl with the slightest bit of wary caution. He tapped on the cold light, slightly violet even under the synthetic manufactured end-rods they had lit the box with. "They're fragile, and use ultraviolet light rather than how we harness them. If yours breaks, let it drop and it'll run out eventually. Otherwise it'll burn you. Any questions?"
"Er, yes," Mumbo said, raising his hand for extra emphasis. "What…er…what exactly are welookingfor?"
"Anything different," Etho said simply. He glanced at Xisuma, blinking slowly. He asked, "are you coming in too?"
"No, I'll operate the light system from out here," Xisuma explained. He paused, glancing at Pearl before elaborating: "it's safer as well. I'd rather be outside so I can secure the box if anything happens. I'll construct a barrier in the worst case."
"Sure thing," Etho assured, swiftly dispersing the rods with the ease of a born fighter. Mumbo held his awkwardly, alternating between a loose grip like a lever and a two handed hold like a sword.
"Oh, and don't attack it," Etho said to Pearl a bit insensitively. She bristled, opening her mouth to argue. He lifted one hand, closing both eyes tiredly before he explained: "we don't know how it works with respawn. I know you may not like it, just leave it if it really bothers you."
"You're being a big jerk," she said between grit teeth.
"Sure am," he agreed, nodding towards Xisuma who spun and advanced to the main control panel. Mumbo gulped, lifting his end rod nervously to his face. On his clothes, the white of his undershirt glowed a bright blue.
They entered the box. Etho secured the perimeter, avoiding the dried dirt patches and held one fist aloft.
"You ready?" he asked, checking both Pearl and Mumbo lazily. Pearl scowled, Mumbo gulped.
Etho opened his hand, nodding and lowering his arm in a clear signal. Slowly, the ground vibrated. Pistons clanked, shifting heavily as mechanisms rumbled to lift. The ground moved, all three hermits held steady as vertigo threatened to knock them sideways. Scout was the unfortunate flaw in their experience, the great creature flapped and opened wings with a swirl of dazed disorientation. Too quick for the three to actually see, the creature moved about, stumbling and swaying on four legs or in a hunched position. It smashed against the wall- also moving as the sea lanturn floor recessed into the wall and dark blackstone took its place. The light level dropped, Scout was flung again into the moving floor as it struggled to stay upright, heavy wings smacking into the ground with a limp heavy noise.
Mumbo winced, holding his light tighter. Steadily, the haze of blue and purple began to grow. Colours shifted, fading into alternate brightened or darkened hues. Pearl's brown hair looked close to black, her teeth a vibrant blue. Mumbo watched his tie transition to a soft violet glow, his nailbeds closer to cyan.
"You two alright?" Etho asked, rotating his neck to glance over his shoulder. His hair looked like the colour of swamp orchids. His eye, synthetic redstone shone the brightest. Brighter than any light, it pierced through them in a fluorescent pink with thin alternating rings of violet and magenta. Mumbo had never understood just how complex the man's eye was, but here it was practically a beacon with unknown effects.
It shifted with no sound. Mumbo watched, transfixed and awed as the thin rings of pink and red modified themselves as the man presumably accessed a different mechanism within the organic creation.
"Oh that- that's brilliant," Mumbo whispered, leaning closer. Etho jerked back, misunderstanding the situation by the sudden unexpected blush on his cheekbones.
"We're here on a mission," Pearl grumbled, ignoring the odd embarrassing story that Etho would certainly tell Doc later.
Scout was difficult to see, dark and hidden in the corner. They approached with the lights held high, scanning the ground. The feathers weren't glowing, nothing unusual stood out to Etho.
"Hello?" Mumbo asked, his voice a squeak. They ventured closer, wary of any unexpected movements. "Scout? It's erm, well uh, it's me? Mumbo? The… uh, you know?"
"Scout?" Etho asked, his voice clear and sharp. The creature shuddered, a small flash of purple and blue catching their eye. It was on its wing somewhere, moving out of sight below the various feathers.
"Scout," Pearl said sharply. She held her ground, lifting the light to poke it like one would with a weapon. "Look at us. I know you're a Watcher. Look at us. Look at us!"
"Pearl-," Etho muttered, ready to take her rod away. They had no intention of hurting the creature, only investigating it.
"Look at us!" she demanded, prodding it brutally with the rod.
Scout flinched away, opening the outer wing in a clumsy sweep. It failed to do more than knock Mumbo back, the thin beanpole he is. Etho braced it, catching the wing with one hand to push it up. Overbalanced, Scout made a strange guttural sound as it stumbled forward, an entire humanoid arm trapped as it lifted with the now caught wing.
"It'sattached,"Etho realized, now only an arms length away from the crude fusion of bone and bone. The hand was undeniably human- or it once was. Now the joints were unlike anything Etho had ever seen.
"Let him go!" Mumbo yelped, ducking under the flapping limbs. "Don't- don't hurt him!"
"It's a Watcher!" Pearl shouted back, holding the rod like a baton. "Open your eyes already!"
"Pearl! Stop it," Etho ordered, trying to calm the increasingly stressed creature. "We aren't here to do anything-."
Pearl said something, then pressed her baton close to a section of lighter texture Etho and Mumbo suspected to be the actual body of the creature. There was a mimicry of ribs, thin and emaciated and roughly humanoid in a forward pained curl. The cold rod pressed against a junction that may have been it's armpit or upper torso, held open by Etho's grip on the wing.
"Look at me!" Pearl demanded it, pressing the rod into the creature's weak open side. She demanded: "watch!"
The first eye was no larger than a thumb, sliding open from a violet crescent on the underside of the wing. It arced slowly, pupil the size of a sweetberry gazing directly at the rod pressed into its side. It blinked slowly, lacking eyelashes before the dull simple eye rolled upwards with sentience and met Pearl.
She flinched away, dropping the rod against the ground. Fluid oozed out, bright and uncontained with the heavy light of glow squid ink. It burned upwards, brighter than the rods but shorter living. Where Pearl had touched the torso spread small arcs of light. More grew, contagious like a sickly disease.
Crescents appeared like thin lines of a pen, drawn in small swoops and pinprick dots. Pupils blinked, some oval and others reflecting with hues of cactus green. One eye with a horizontal purple pupil blinked like a goat to Mumbo, appearing on the wing itself.
"Bloody hell," Mumbo gasped, stumbling backwards. Etho dropped the wing as if burned when along the top of the wing an eye opened as great as a cocoa bean pod. The feathers lifted with it, unveiling a feathered eyelid over a sentient dumb gaze.
"Get back," Etho warned both Pearl and Mumbo, drawing a small knife from his side. The eyes continued to spread, covering the creature along the tops of its wings and all along the sensitive insides.
"I told you," Pearl said, indignant rage vanished. Horror and open fear replaced it. "They watch, they justwatchyou…"
"Oh for- are thosespider eyes?"Mumbo asked, his voice turning high and shrill. More eyes appeared on the lowest bit of the wing, now open to look at the three with eyes invisible except under ultraviolet light. "Oh this is- well, this is a bit disgusting, isn't it?"
Pearl trembled. She exhaled, her voice verging slightly to a retch. With a new noise drawing Scout's attention, every single eye rotated to stare directly at her.
"I- I can't-," she slurred between the starts of a panic attack. She turned, sprinting towards the door and vanished outside into brighter light.
Etho resisted the similar sensation that crawled on his back. It wasn't unlike the initial sense of panic he felt, the weird sensation of beingseen.It pulled on him, made his legs tremble as fear overrode his rational brain. Etho was better than this, but under such a sensation he felt as young as a child again.
Etho had faced many things. He stared into a shapeless thing with a thousand blinking eyes, and wondered if he had dared to go too far.
"Oh this is- this is ridiculous!" Mumbo said, jerking his shoulders a bit through a shudder. "Stop looking at us like that! I mean- you've got eyes. Why can't you just…look away? In a different area? Oh come on, surely you don't need all of those!"
Etho flinched as Scout moved, pulling the wing tighter. It was no longer as spherical as before, there was an undeniable torso under there, an arm and a ribcage from what they had seen. Etho imagined that the creature was looking at them with its head- he dared not think of what facial features it had if there were so many eyes in different places.
"Yes yes, I can see you and you can most definitely see me," Mumbo continued to babble, "can you err…am I talking to a brick wall right now? Oh I am certainly just babbling towards a brick wall right now."
Summoned like a miracle, the outer speakers clicked on with the slightest hiss of static. Xisuma spoke with a twice gargled speaker system, still cohesive in the partially dark room."Actually, I was checking out the code. There's an error in the language system. I've never seen anything like it."
"Oh, well that makes this all easier. Or much worse," said Mumbo. The man cowered next to Etho, nudging him with one shoulder as he asked: "That's going to make this much worse, isn't it?"
"It may be the main error we've had with communication,"Xisuma explained, doing something…somewhere.
Etho wondered if they were going too far. Modifying code was one step in a direction Etho never went. He never dared- he hadn't been born with the talent but had found ways toseeit, even after all this time. Language was a tricky setting, if broken or corrupted it inhibited all areas to learn. Language made little sense, even with years of training.
Scout hadn't been the most physically active since in the box. The moment Xisuma activated or modified whatever invisible code data the poor creature had, the thingthrashed.
It moved with a high rattlingwail.Its wings opened, a dozen eyes, a hundred eyes,a thousand eyesall flared open in a see of blinking rippling sight. Mumbo felt nausea lift in his stomach, nausea twisting until Etho had to steady him with one arm. Vertigo struck, both men struggling to stay standing as the creature moved in crooked twisting movements, wailing loud an echoing piercing sound. It wasn't something they heard, but something theyfeltin their brain which burned under a molten heat. The touch of magma, of soul fire and the aching throb of packed ice.
Etho watched it writhe, eyes fluttering and flaring through agony and shock. Etho thought, 'Is this how it looks to watch a god die?'
"Move!" Etho roared, shoving Mumbo outside the box as Xisuma cranked a button or lever to manually override the blackstone floor. Sea lanterns opened, the blinding light causing the invisible eyes to shudder close. Etho scrambled through, collapsing to his knees as he vomited across the floor of the air lock.
"Bollocks," Mumbo cursed, sweat dripping down his face into his damp neckline. "What- what on Earth…"
Pearl slammed open the door, standing in the open frame. She looked disgusted, horrified and sick at what they had unfortunately stumbled across.
"That,"she said with a reluctant confidence, "was a Watcher."
Scout was different after overriding whatever block or virus it had experienced.
Xisuma tried to explain it the best he could, stating that all living creatures required 'patches' when viruses or problems occured. Every person would develop them over time, but it took guidance and regular scans to notice and repair them. A glitch or virus impacting the very aspect of communication and language was one so severe, Xisuma hadn't thought it was possible. Yet, Scout had apparently been unknowingly mute and blind to everything they had done. It had been restricted, forced to be docile and stupid through a source of malicious compliance. How do you think if not in words? How can you form an identity, if you were unable to have rational thoughts at all?
Xisuma had called it barbaric, a cruel intentional move by some unknown source. There were remnants of code imposing the glitch in the first place, corroded and aged in time. Potentially a backup plan in the even a Watcher fell through the cracks. A system in place to prevent such a supposedly powerful race from being accessed by players. Xisuma declared it inhumane, and Mumbo was in sharp agreement with it.
Word had spread that whatever Scout was, his previous state was that or dormancy. He was as simple as a mob, gentle like a cow that had awoken to realize it was a dragon. Word spread to stay back until Xisuma had explored it in depth. Mumbo of course didn't agree with a lot of rules, namely those about lag and the limits on his machinery- but this was different! Surely Xisuma would notice that?
Sneaking into the box was much easier when it was Keralis on watch. Keralis did not agree entirely with disobeying Xisuma's strict words, but Mumbo could persuade the man into letting him in for atinywhile. XB had been safe inside, and Keralis knew Mumbo would never do anything to hurt such a sweet creature. Mumbo entered the box, trying hard not to shake as he stepped inside. The dirt had not been washed away. Food was being pushed into the box through a new small flap in the floor.
'Xisuma calls what he found inhumane,'Mumbo thought sadly,'but isn't this also?'
"Er, Scout?" Mumbo asked quietly, shifting his weight awkwardly. He hadn't brought a blanket or anything of interest- unless Scout had a sharp affinity for pushing buttons, but hopefully a nice conversation wouldn't be too much.
Scout shuddered in the corner, facing the wall. The longer wings towards the back rustled slightly, shifting on the floor with a visible sign of having heard him.
"Hello, I erm…my name is Mumbo," he said, introducing himself awkwardly. "Well, it's erm…MumboJumbo, but you can call me Mumbo. I'm not sure if you remember me- and it's fine if you don't! It's not a problem, it would be rather rude of me if itwerea problem, mind you, but I just thought…yeah…"
It shuddered, shifting slightly. It was hard to tell, but Mumbo had the strange impression Scout had turned to look at him over it's shoulder.
"Hi," Mumbo meekly repeated, waving one hand. "I uh, I wanted to come say hello."
Impossibly, terrifyingly, Scout shifted once more and said in a raspy vague mimic of Mumbo's voice,"hello."
Mumbo jumped, jaw fluttering as he struggled to think of what to say. Stupidly, Mumbo repeated, "hello."
Scout shuffled, wings posed and moving strangely. It rotated weirdly, hundreds of feathers brushing the floor and dust. Mumbo remembered the odd junction of the creature's arm and wing, he wondered if it moved like that out of necessity instead of natural choice.
"I was wondering if you wanted to talk," Mumbo asked nervously. "I mean,Ican talk if you'd like and you can just…listen?"
Scout shuffled, tilting the rough proximity of its head as it settled. On its front legs, or arms, orthings.It looked at Mumbo with less eyes according to the unsettling sensation of being seen. Mumbo fumbled, unsure of what to say or do.
"I…my name is Mumbo…"
"Hello,"Scout whispered in that odd echoing voice, rattling around in a mimic yet with a tone somewhat masculine.
"Hi," Mumbo repeated, laughing a bit at the oddity of the entire situation. He wrung his hands, wondering if he should take a seat or offer his hand. It felt a bit rude to keep standing. He said: "I uh, I'm from Boatem. Which is the village that you lived under- or the uh, the place you were before we came! We uh, we have the hole! That you helped make, I think? Erm, thank you…for that…"
It made no noise, but Mumbo had an odd gut feeling that Scout was laughing at him.
"Anyways," Mumbo said, chuckling to himself. "It's…It's really nice to meet you. I mean, you've known about us but…well…Xisuma thinks you're dangerous. And Pearl- my friend Pearlescentmoon, she thinks…I'm not sure. She's really quite nice, I promise…but…well…I just wanted to let you know you're not alone anymore."
Scout froze, sighing a hoarse pained rattle. It shifted, dragging itself forward. The hair on Mumbo's arms stood on end, his anxiety jolted but he forced himself to stay still. He trusted Scout, even when others hadn't.
"It's okay," Mumbo said out loud, mostly for himself. "You're totally fine here."
Scout dragged itself slightly closer, shying away. Then it spoke again a single word, masked in a question with tentative hope:"...alone?"
"No no, not that, certainly not that," Mumbo told him quickly. "I mean, there's plenty of us here now. Once they realize you aren't scary or dangerous, you'll be let out. I'd love to show you what we've made right above that dim cave of yours, I mean it uh, it's a lovely cave…"
"T-tell…"it rasped, gasping, pained and desperate. Its wings flared, the largest one opening just as it had before Mumbo saw what he should not. It was bright inside the room, but the impression of eyes were still there. Invisible except suddenly they were not. Bright and purple, they burned in Mumbo's eyes like activated redstone, dangerous and threatening. They looked at him, and Mumbo thought:'oh, he must be so sad.'
"Hey, it's alright," Mumbo said to him, reaching one hand out without thinking anything of it. "You're alright here, take your time."
"Tell…tell again…"it rasped frantically,"I…p-please…"
"Oh you must have been so afraid," Mumbo whispered, reaching out with one open palm. Scout shuddered, wings moving and eyes blinking with tears of a scared lonely thing. And then Scout in turn, reached out. He stretched one hand from below the feathers, askew and crooked from disease and damage all uniquely named and painful to recall: dupuytren's contracture, wartenberg's sign.
"Tell me." he said, a hundred eyes dark and fervent, "say it again."
And Mumbo knew what it was so desperate to hear. What knowledge it was too afraid to accept and hurt enough to want to trust. Mumbo reached out, gently touching the withered skin and held the hand of a tired man.
"You're not alone anymore," Mumbo said gently, holding one hand in his, "you're alright now. You're not alone anymore."
