Zed dug through his closet. He could’ve sworn the costume was in here somewhere, but so far he was having no luck. He grunted with the effort as he heaved a shulker box out of one of the dusty back corners. Surely it had to be in this one? His comm pinged, but he was too distracted to pay attention to it. He was busy, Impulse or Tango or whoever could wait until he found his Worm Man costume. The entire fate of the server hung in the balance, after all.
Eventually, five or ten minutes later, he found it, buried under a black cloak he distinctly did not remember ever owning, in the same shulker box as always. It was a bit dusty and creased, but Zed reckoned he had a few days to wash it before it was actually needed. With that, he stood up, folded the outfit, left it on his bed, and picked up his communicator, heading out to the front of his base to get some fresh air away from the choking shadows of his closet.
He paled when he realised who the messages were from, however—False. How had he forgotten?! Immediately after waking up, he was supposed to meet her and accept four slime balls for some long-forgotten purpose. He hummed, sending her a quick apology, which she accepted cordially enough. Still, he mentally smacked himself, and even momentarily considering cutting his losses and finding a way to finish this loop early. (The thought was only brief, however, as he realised the implications weren’t exactly the healthiest.)
With that, he went back inside to clean off his costume.
———
“Give me… a number between one and ten!”
“Seven!”
“Between twenty and fifty!”
“Forty-two!”
“Between fifty-nine thousand, three hundred and sixty five and seventy-four thousand and two!”
“Eighty-three thousand and five!”
“Add them together!”
“One billion!”
“That is absolutely incorrect!”
“Yay!”
Zed and Tango simultaneously collapsed in giggles at the absurd levels of energy that that interaction had held. No matter how many times Zed saw it, the way that Tango acted like the situation was the high point of his life and then proceeded to get everything wrong never failed to bring Zedaph a laugh or five.
After a minute, Zed stood up from where he was braced against the glass, wiping away the tears of laughter.
“Okay,” he told Tango, regaining his composure. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Tango nodded, his own giggles slowing.
“Now,” Zed instructed, turning away from the glass, “You have ten seconds to hide. Ten…”
“What—okay, wait what—”
“Nine…” Zed smiled at the sound of Tango scurrying off. “Eight… seven… six… thr—five…”
“Learn to count!” Tango called out. Zed grinned: it was all in accordance with his master plan.
“Four… three… two… one!” Zed spun around, his eyes landing on Tango, who was hiding behind the same wooden pillar as always, almost instantly. “Found you!”
“Oh come on!” Tango yelled, frustrated, stepping out from behind his hiding place. “Literally the first place you looked!”
“Find a better hiding place, then!” Zed responded.
“It’s like you were able to—able to predict what I was gonna do!” Tango protested, throwing his arms in the air.
“I’m not magic, Tango,” Zed laughed, although concern settled in his chest as he realised that maybe the fact that he had seen these events play out multiple times was starting to show. He needed to keep a tighter grip on that.
“That’s exactly what a magic man would say.”
“I’m not a magic man!”
“Sure, Mr. Magic McMagicface.” Tango folded his arms and turned away from Zed in mock disgust.
Zed just turned the lights off on Tango instead of arguing the point further. Tango yelped, before promptly declaring that he was going to enjoy the darkness out of spite, at which point Zed just turned the lights back on, grinning.
“You done?” Zed asked.
“Fine,” Tango whined, although there was no real malice or hurt behind the words.
“Good!” Zed smiled. “Now, show me your athleticism!”
“Uh—what—”
“Go!”
———
“EXy!” Zed—er, Worm Man—crashed through the ceiling of the Evil Emporium, landing in the classic superhero landing. As he stood up, brushing himself off, Zed winced. They weren’t lying when they said that that landing could do some serious damage to your joints. “I’ve—I’ve come to save you!”
“Really?” EX’s voice sounded from the top of the stairs, leaning over the bannister. Zed craned his neck to look up at them. “That’s cute.” They fired a bolt of lightning at Zed.
Zed just barely managed to dodge, leaping to the side—he was the perfect pinnacle of grace and agility, thank you very much. He picked himself up again, gritting his teeth. He sprinted for the stairs, dodging two more lightning bolts before the third struck him in the chest, right where his scar was. Zed paused, gasping, stumbling against the wall. His vision spun and spots danced in front of his eyes, but he blinked them away. He had to get to EXy.
Zed barrelled up the stairs, launching himself at EX. He got a lightning bolt to his shoulder for his troubles, but he still managed to tackle them, preventing them from firing any more electricity. He took a deep breath, trying to stop his brain goop from feeling so scrambled.
“Let. Them. Go.” he hissed at the entity controlling EX, whatever it may have been.
“No,” they replied, albeit through gritted teeth. “No. Never.”
“I wasn’t—” Whatever threat Zed was about to make was cut off by a sudden scream from EX. Zed released his grip, startled, and EX rolled away, heaving for breath.
Carefully, Zed moved towards them as they sat bolt upright, hands scrambling for the latch of their helmet. Zed, realising something about their disposition had shifted, moved in to offer help in any way he could, as they desperately pulled their helmet off and chucked it as far away from themself as they could, their long white hair falling everywhere in a nightmare case of helmet-head.
“...Worm Man?” EX asked, their voice quiet, and warmth and hope blossomed in Zed’s heart. That was EX. That light in their eyes was them, not whatever had held them in its grip before.
“EXy,” Zed gasped, and the two pulled each other into a desperate hug, basking in each other’s presence. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you any earlier—” Zed whispered, holding on to EX like they’d slip through his fingers again.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I—I must have hurt you.” Zed felt EX’s finger run over the tip of his scar that peeked over the collar of his Worm Man costume.
“That wasn’t you,” Zed told them.
“No, but I could’ve—”
“It was—It was Dr. Tangno,” Zed lied. What EX didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. And his first statement was technically true no matter what angle you looked at it from, so he figured he was justified. “You haven’t hurt anyone, don’t worry.”
“Evil X?” a voice called from downstairs. “My head hurts… what happened?”
EX broke off the hug, eyes wide.
“Shit,” they gasped. “My brother.”
———
X walked through the halls of the Void Emporium. The season had been going well, all things considered. EX had explained that the voice had got them again and, after some apologies and reconciliations, the two had agreed to rename the business and share it, as well as balancing out Derpcoin so that it was less unpredictable—Xisuma knew the penchant some of his Hermits had for playing out games of chance, and he blatantly refused to feed into those habits.
Other than that, it’d been a fairly normal season. X and EX had just spent a couple weeks completely redoing the redstone magic that made the Emporium that extra bit more special, and Xisuma was eager to get out into the open air as soon as possible. He swung into his office briefly, put his redstone box away in his ender chest, and was about to turn to leave when there was the distinct sound of someone taking damage from behind him.
“Hey, X.” Zed was somehow leaning casually against the side of X’s window when he had very much not been there 5 seconds prior. “Moon’s big.”
“Is it?” X asked, tilting his head to see past Zed into the night sky. Yeah, that wasn’t exactly the most normal-sized moon X had seen. Great. An existential threat to the server. Exactly what Xisuma had needed.
“I’ve been doing some casual monitoring, you know, for science, and I wasn’t expecting any change, but it is slightly larger.”
“Oh.” X looked up at Zed.
“...I should probably get down from here, shouldn’t I?”
“Maybe.”
Five or so minutes, a faceplant, and some minor reorganising later, Xisuma’s office was in slightly more disarray as X used his admin console and attempted to figure out what was going on, Zed watching over his shoulder. X hummed, frowning slightly beneath his helmet at the moon’s gravitational variable. It shouldn’t have been that large, and, because Hermitcraft wasn’t modded and there was no specific tweak for it, X couldn’t fix it.
“Is that good?” Zed asked, in response to the sound.
“No. No, it’s not. See that?” X pointed at the line in question. Zed shook his head, and X remembered that the man couldn’t read Galactic. “Basically, it means that the moon is approaching us, and it’ll crash… by Christmas, I reckon.”
“Crash? Into the server?” Zed asked, although X noticed that the surprise in his tone sounded somewhat feigned.
“Yes.” X nodded. “Thankfully, I can save everyone's backup, and send us to—” X paused. He’d been trying to do what he’d been describing to Zedaph, but a big red error had come up for a certain five Hermits. “...Huh.”
“What?”
“Zed, can you go get Boatem to come here? There seems to be some sort of error on their part and I can’t back them up remotely.”
“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Now?”
X gave Zed a look. Zed got the memo, and, grabbing an ender pearl (that was how he’d gotten in, presumably) launched himself out the window, equipping his elytra mid-teleport, then rocketing off into the night.
———
Zed stumbled slightly as he touched down in Boatem, but thankfully found himself being caught by a pair of familiar arms. Steadying himself, he turned around to greet Impulse properly, but properly catching sight of his best friend wiped the smile off his face.
Impulse… didn’t look the greatest, to say the least. Dark bags hung under his eyes, stark against his abnormally pale skin, matched in shade by his unshaven stubble. Zed couldn’t help but notice a small scabbed-over cut beside said stubble, like Impulse had tried shaving, cut himself by accident, then promptly given up on shaving at all for the rest of forever. Worse, Impulse’s smile, which usually held a friendly warmth that lightened Zed’s heart to see, now bore a manic twist, like it had been plastered on.
Impulse’s attire told a similar story. To be fair, Zed didn’t really remember Impulse’s factory garb in its usual state—it’d been ages since Zed had been able to pay attention to details like that—but he was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to be covered in dust and grime and redstone and coffee stains and oh Vex, was that blood?
Yeah. Impulse wasn’t doing too great, by the looks of things.
“Zeddy!” Impulse greeted, offering a hand. Zed cautiously took it, wincing at how Impulse’s entire body seemed to be trembling, although Zed couldn’t be sure whether it was from the effort of standing or from the absurd amount of caffeine that was likely coursing through Impulse’s system. “Hi!”
“...Hey, Impulse.”
“It’s great to have you here, you know! You should visit more often! I miss you!” Impulse didn’t let go of Zed’s hand.
“...Uh-huh. How much coffee have you had?”
Impulse stared blankly, still not letting go, his grin twitching slightly.
“Impulse?”
“YES!” Impulse snapped out of his momentary daze.
“What?”
“I have had… yeah! I’ve had yeah! That much!”
“Impulse, I think that’s too much coffee.”
“It’s not enough.” Impulse responded, his tone suddenly losing its previously exaggerated cheer, the grin falling away. “It’s not enough. I’ve been getting so close to sleep, Zeddy.”
“Impulse.” Zed sighed. “Sleep is a good thing. We’ve been over this.”
“Nuh-uh!” Impulse shook his head, offended. “Gotta—we gotta appreciate the moon! And you can’t appreciate the moon if you’re sleeping!”
“Appreciate?”
“Uh-huh!”
“The moon?”
“Uh-huh!”
“Impulse, that thing is going to kill us all in an incredibly painful way!”
“Nope!” Impulse shook his head. “Not if we appreciate it enough!”
Zed facepalmed with his free hand.
“Look!” Impulse twisted his grip suddenly, dragging Zed away from the Boatem hole. “I’ll show you the book! It’ll explain everything!”
Impulse dragged Zed along, leaving Zed quite disgruntled, as they headed towards a vaguely ominous-looking structure surrounded with crying statues. Zed tried to pull away at one point, the rising moon making him uneasy, but Impulse’s grip tightened, trapping Zed. All the while, Impulse maintained that manic grin. It didn’t really need to be said that Zed was not having a fun time in Boatem.
“This,” Impulse stopped abruptly at the entry to the structure, “is the Mooners temple!”
“M-mooners.” Zed sighed. “Okay.” Zed figured they might as well have a cult, really. Just to make things more annoying spicy.
“Yeah!”
With that, Impulse dragged Zed into the building, scooped a book off a lectern, and—finally releasing Zed—shoved it into Zed’s hands. Zed thumbed through—yeah, no, this was definitely a cult, good going, Boatem—before snapping the book shut. He looked up to see Impulse grinning at him expectantly.
“Well?” Impulse asked.
“Well what?”
“Have I convinced you?”
A chill ran through Zed.
“Convinced me to do what?”
“Join us!” Mumbo appeared out of absolutely nowhere, causing Zed to yelp in shock.
If Impulse looked bad, Mumbo looked worse. The bags under his eyes seemed infinitely heavier, and his smile had fully lost all the kindness and joy it had previously held, leaving something that felt more like he was baring his teeth. He had abandoned his suit jacket entirely, and the shirt underneath was adorned with even more of those red stains that danced on the line between looking like redstone and looking like blood. His tie lay draped across his shoulders, undone (and not in a cool way), and his usually well-groomed moustache was all frizzy.
“No, I, uh…” Zed trailed off, panic starting to form in the corners of his mind. Impulse was subtly moving to block the exit. “I need more time—time to think, you know?”
“I don’t see why.” Mumbo shrugged, coming closer. Zed took a step back. “I mean, all you have to do is not sleep. Why not give it a try?”
“Well… uh…” Zed wasn’t entirely sure how to verbalise the panic running through his mind, the feeling of ‘no, actually, I don’t wanna join your cult no matter how easy it is’. “...You know?”
“He does look pretty well-rested!” Impulse spoke up, fully blocking the door by now.
“That’s true…” Something shifted in Mumbo’s stance as he said that. “Maybe he’s to blame!”
“Wha—what?”
“How often do you actively skip the night, Zeddy?”
“I mean, I’ve been getting my eight hours.” Zed really didn’t like how, in his attempt to get away from Mumbo, he was getting closer and closer to the giant pit in the middle of the room that was full of soul flames. He realised, numbly, that he was being herded. He knew what being herded felt like, deep in his bones, and this was it.
“Is that true?” Mumbo asked. “Unfortunately, that does mean we’ll have to, you know, make some sacrifices to make sure the moon is fully happy with your conversion.”
“Like… what?”
Mumbo pushed Zed into the fire.
“Fun fact! I was careful not to hit you there, so this death won’t go into my stats!”
Zed did not respond, because he was a little preoccupied with being on fire. Oddly enough, after the initial pain, his body numbed to it disturbingly quickly, his mind racing to find another way out of here before the loop was lost. The sky above seemed to be taunting him, an escape that lay forever out of his reach.
Wait.
If Zed could see the sky, that meant that the room he was in didn’t have a roof. And if the room he was in didn’t have a roof, then…
Zed pulled out his rockets, fighting his protesting, aching skin and bones at every move, and, with difficulty, launched himself into the air. He heard Mumbo and Impulse yelling after him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. It didn’t matter. He was out. The cool night air may have ripped at his raw wounds like knives, bringing sharp feeling back to him and reminding him how his body was covered in burns, but he struggled through and, eventually, made it back to his base.
He sat there for a moment, dazed, as the adrenaline flooded out of his system, and then a scream ripped itself from his throat.
Outside of the sudden pain and feeling and shock and horror that had washed through his system, dazing all his thoughts into a haze of torment, he heard a familiar voice speaking. They were saying something that wasn’t his name, but it was sort of his name, but it was only his name to one person. He nodded, hoping that was the correct response, although the movement pulled a weak groan from his mouth.
After that, he was vaguely aware of being moved, although directions were all topsy-turvy, so he couldn’t tell how or where or why, and then suddenly he wasn’t being moved and he was lying on something soft. That was nice. The voice asked something again. He didn’t respond. The voice spoke, and something shook his shoulder. He groaned again, trying to push whatever it was away, but the movement made the pain spike, so he gave up, hoping whatever-it-was would get the message anyway.
The voice muttered something, with the sort of inflection that sounded like a curse. Then, there was a splash, and Zed felt his heart beating, burning a hole in his chest, and then the pain was slowly fading away, and his mind clawed its way back to reality.
He sat up, heaving in a gasp of air as the regeneration potion continued working its way through his system, his burns healing over slowly but surely.
“Your arm might not heal right, sorry.” EX spoke. Zed turned to look at them. When had they gotten here?
“I was looking for Worm Man.” Oh. Had Zed voiced that thought aloud? “Xisuma said I could find him here, and then you came flying in all screaming, and, well, I figured I’d help you.”
“Well, uh, thank you. Person-that-I-have-never-met-before.”
“Evil X. I, uh, work at the Void Emporium. I’m a friend of Worm Man’s?”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. He mentioned you.”
The two stared at each other in awkward silence.
“I’m Zed?” Zed offered, extending his hand—ooh, that looked like it was going to scar.
“Evil X.” EX took it. “Wait. I already introduced myself. Oh, this is a disaster.”
“It’s fine, I’ve dealt with a lot worse today.”
“I suppose. Should I tell Worm Man about whatever happened? Is it the sort of thing a superhero can help with?”
“I’m sure if it is he’ll… have his ways of figuring it out.” Zed shrugged. He hated lying to EX, but the one time he’d tried to come clean about his secret identity, they’d just ignored him. “We live in the same base, after all.”
“I guess that’s true.” EX shrugged. “Do you… do you mind if I stay over the night? Until Worm Man gets back?”
“Hm.” Zed paused. On the one hand, a sleepover with EXy sounded delightful at any time, and Zed could really use the company. On the other hand, they were supposed to be strangers. “Sure! I could… I could use the company.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
———
In the weeks following the incident, Zed did a few things. Firstly, he reported back to X that Boatem were being uncooperative. Since X kept asking if Zed was okay, and awkwardly glancing at Zed’s arm, he figured that EX must have told him what happened. Either way, X got the memo. Something was wrong in the state of Boatem, and Zed wasn’t openly going back there.
Secondly, since he figured that this loop was doomed anyway, Zed directed his energy and resources towards observation and data gathering once more, instead of actively trying to save everyone. That meant many long nights of watching from the treeline, sometimes alone as himself, sometimes with EXy as Worm Man, as Boatem ran around doing incomprehensible nonsense. Honestly, Zed had thought their actions would be somewhat predictable, especially since he knew Impulse so well, but exactly none of the people living in the area were anything that could be called normal.
And so, when the moon got too close and the gravitational vertigo felt like it was gonna rip Zed’s stomach out and Zed knew he was gonna dance with death yet again, he was as prepared as he reckoned he could be, what with the journal tucked into his lab coat pocket. The surface level of his mind was boiling with panic and pain—he’d never get used to the sensation of dying, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to—but deep down, he was calm.
His head collided painfully with the ceiling of his lab, and the nothingness reached out to claim him.
He sat up in bed, heaving a gasp of air into his lungs, his heart pounding. He took a few deep breaths to calm down, then got up out of bed. Slowly, he rolled up the sleeve of his cardigan, hoping that since he hadn’t died in the fire, that his burn scar would be gone. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. With a disappointed hum, he rolled the sleeve back down, then went to put his lab coat on, the weight of his journal resting safely in his pocket.
He was about to turn and move on to get his Worm Man costume ready, when he was struck by the sudden thought that he was forgetting something important. He spun on his heel, thinking. What was it? Who was it?
His communicator pinged.
Right. False.