False walked up the mountain, carrying the slime Zed had asked of her. She looked around briefly, but he was nowhere to be found. Ignoring the déjà vu tickling the back of her mind, she decided to just stick her head into his base, make sure he was actually here. It wasn’t like Zed to miss a meeting, especially not one he’d literally just organised.
As she set foot into Zed’s base, she couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet it was. She didn’t like it, but she persevered, moving to the next room. There, she saw a sight that chilled her to her core. Zed was lying in his bed, curled up and facing away from her, a stark contrast to the cheer that had been present in his messages mere moments before.
Gently, she shook his shoulder, checking he was at the very least alive. He grumbled, pulling his blanket closer, but did not otherwise respond. She stepped away. She had a feeling that something was dreadfully wrong, but she felt that prying any further would be a breach of Zed’s privacy, since he clearly didn’t want anyone around. She left Zed’s base, drafting a message to Impulse and Tango. Whatever was going on with Zed, she was sure they’d be better equipped to help.
———
“This place feels wrong,” Impulse said, as he and Tango reached the top of the hill.
“Well, at least I know it’s not just me, then.” Tango replied, following shortly behind.
“I hope Zed’s okay.”
“From what False said, he isn’t.”
“I know. But we can hope.”
Tango sighed. “We can hope.”
The two looked up at the lab in the mountain, immense and chillingly empty. With a look, the two of them stepped through the doorway, and began looking around, calling out for Zed. He had to be in here somewhere, although the first three rooms they checked were empty save for a thin coating of dust, and fourth only had some redstone timer thing that, if the timing in the book next to it was correct, had been running for at least four years. That was ridiculous, of course, the server had only existed for a few days, but it was still more of a sign of human life than Impulse and Tango had seen anywhere else in Zed’s base.
Impulse was about to follow Tango into the next room when he noticed a small leather-bound journal, discarded on the floor as if it had been thrown out of the room in a momentary fit of rage. Impulse crouched down, picking it up and, after a moment’s consideration, opening it to a random page. What he saw caused him to almost drop the book out of shock.
-Give False slime
-Do experiment on Tango (HE CAN’T SPACE)
-Talk to EXy (llrrblf)
-Build some base
-Beef, Bdubs, Mumbo experiments
-Impulse mitey maze prank (he’s @ factory)
-Talk to X about moon big
-Moon big
-Confront BTM (get EXy help)
-Destroy moon rock
-Get everyone to X’s rocket
Now, maybe such a list of activities would normally be fine, if a little strange (and wasn’t Zed always a little strange?) but this particular one had one issue. What shook Impulse to his very core about this list was that it mentioned his factory. The factory that he’d only just made up his mind about building yesterday. Slightly panicked, he turned to another page. There was a map of Boatem, not as it was, but as it would be.
It was at that point that Tango came back into the room, wondering why Impulse had fallen behind. Without a word, Impulse handed Tango the journal, who opened it to yet another random page before going very pale and shoving the little book into the darkest corner of his inventory. As the two moved on, thoroughly disturbed, Impulse couldn’t help but notice how Tango’s hands were shaking.
As they quietly walked into the room which seemed to serve as Zed’s bedroom, they realised that False hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d described his state. He was curled up on his bed, blanket wrapped tightly around him, unresponsive to the sound of Impulse and Tango entering the room. Cautiously, Tango walked up to Zed’s bedside, and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Zed?” Tango whispered. “You okay?”
“Go away,” Zed mumbled, burrowing deeper into his blanket.
“We found your… journal… thing,” Impulse added. “What—what happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Please,” Tango whispered, “Zed, we’re worried about you.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Zed rolled over, showing Impulse and Tango his tear-stained face, the dark bags under his eyes, the exhaustion worn deep into his expression. “Nothing… nothing I do matters.”
“Tell us about it, then.” Tango sat on the foot of Zed’s bed.
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter, so tell us. Just for curiosity’s sake.”
“You—you wouldn’t believe me.”
“It’s hurting you, Zed.” Impulse shook his head. “I think we know it has to be real.”
“You’re sure?”
“I promise.”
“I promise.”
“I’m caught in a time loop,” Zed said dully. “I have been for… ages, now. In six months’ time, the moon is going to crash into the server, and we’re all going to die.”
Impulse gasped. “Oh.”
“That… doesn’t sound fun.”
“No.” Zed chuckled drily. “I almost had it, too. Almost—almost saved us all. It’s taken me—Void, it’s probably taken me years, but I almost had it. Etho’s the last piece of the puzzle, but I just… I can’t. I can’t find the will anymore to keep fighting.”
“What if we can, though?” Tango offered, voicing the first thought to pass through his mind.
“What?”
“I’m guessing you haven’t told us, or anyone, in previous loops—or if you did, they didn’t believe you. Well, we believe you. This time around, you have two people on your side from the get-go.”
“We can help, Zed.”
“No. No, you shouldn’t—this is—I’m the one that’s supposed to—it’s not on you.”
“It shouldn’t just be on you, either,” Tango argued.
“Let us in. Let us help.”
“Please.”
“...If you’re sure.”
———
EX’s skin crawled as the voice whispered in their mind, drowning out any thoughts of their own with its insidious intentions. They were helpless in their own body, fully aware and forced to watch as they hurt their brother, over and over and over again. The worst part was the déjà vu. Every lightning strike that left their fingers felt like they’d done it a thousand times over, and it made their stomach lurch.
“EXy!” They were startled out of their pain by the sound of the door being kicked in. Invisible hands turned their head, made them stand and stagger over to look down on where Worm Man stood. They cried out in their mind, begging whatever cruel force was driving them to please just leave Worm Man alone, please, you can do anything you want to me, just please for the love of End leave him alone. Such efforts were, of course, to no avail.
“Really?” The words forced themselves out of their mouth, a twisted mockery of their own voice. “That’s cute.” Their hand moved, and they felt their magic being pulled at, like a ghost clawing at their heart, as they fired bolt after bolt of lightning at Worm Man. He seemed adept at dodging the attacks, though, almost as if he knew when and where they were going to strike.
Furthermore, EX noticed a strange sensation, the more they were forced to fight Worm Man. Whatever was controlling them seemed to be purely focused on obliteration, meaning that—for the first time since they’d been banished to the void—they had room in their mind to think for themself. Experimentally, they tried moving something that wasn’t actively being controlled, just a simple tap of the foot. They didn’t quite manage that, but they felt the muscle twitch, which was progress.
Slowly, as Worm Man made his way towards the stairs, they pushed at the boundaries of their mind, gradually fighting to regain control. Unfortunately, as Worm Man dashed up towards them, the thing in their brain noticed what they were doing, and it was about to slam back down on them when—
The air rushed out of their lungs as they were pinned to the ground, mind spinning. Worm Man said something, and they said something back, although whoever was speaking was struggling. The battle for control raged as Worm Man said something else, and then, in a moment, EX finally overpowered the thing controlling them, the scream of effort in their mind forcing its way into physical reality.
Their skin prickled, the numb detachment they’d been flooded with suddenly vanishing. They pushed Worm Man away, needing to get away from the burning touch. Normally, their helmet served as a comfort item, but right now having anything on their head was too heavy, too claustrophobic. They clawed at the sides until their hands found purchase on the clasp, and they desperately ripped the helmet off their head, throwing it away.
“EXy?” Worm Man asked, breaking the silence. EX noticed he sounded… tired. Like the bravado he’d had had dissipated the moment they were safe. EX nodded silently, and Worm Man brought them into a gentle hug. EX nestled themself further in, burying their face in the soft fabric of Worm Man’s scarf. The tension slowly bled out of them as Worm Man ran a shaking hand through their hair, until eventually their jaw loosened from its locked clench.
“I’m sorry,” they whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You’re safe. It won’t ever get you again.” Worm Man held them tighter, his voice cracking. “I promise.”
———
“X!” Tango yelled, half-crashing half-landing in front of the man in question, Impulse and Zed landing more cautiously behind him. “The server’s in danger! In like a couple months, the moon’s gonna crash and nobody’s gonna do anything useful about it and we’re gonna die and we know this because Zed’s kinda stuck in a time loop or something and he’s been like this for effectively years and—”
“Tango. I believe you,” X began, holding up a hand, “But could you please slow down? I don’t quite follow.”
“The server’s in danger,” Impulse explained, more calmly. “In a few months, the moon’s gonna crash into us.”
“December 22nd.” Zed nodded.
“And we know this because Zed’s caught in a time loop that sends him back to the start of the season every time the moon crashes,” Tango continued.
“Every time I die, actually,” Zed corrected. Impulse and Tango both briefly turned to look at him, alarmed, but didn’t say anything.
“Okay.” X nodded, processing. “Okay. I. I think I can work with that timeframe—you said December, right?”
“The twenty-second of December, this year,” Zed confirmed.
“Yep. Okay.” X went to scratch his head and then remembered his helmet was in the way. “Right. Well, I should probably be able to get everyone off-server—”
“Even AFK players?” Zed interrupted.
“Is that gonna be an issue?”
“Apparently Etho being AFK was the one thing that prevented us all from being saved last time around,” Impulse explained.
“Well. That’ll be difficult, and it’ll take a little longer, but I think I can put together an organised teleport to… some seed… with a couple weeks’ wiggle room,” X explained. “Usually I like to check out seeds, but it looks like this time we’re going in blind.”
“Honestly, I’d much prefer living with no knowledge to dying and knowing what’s gonna happen,” Tango laughed.
“That’s fair.” Impulse nodded.
“Anything, really, is good,” Zed agreed.
“Well.” X got up from where he’d been sitting. “I guess I have work to do. Thank you for letting me know.” He bade the others farewell, already mentally shifting around his sleep schedule to optimise saving his hermits.
“Don’t overwork yourself!” Zed called after him, as if he could read his mind—or had just seen this happen several times already. X shook his head, sighing. As he took off, he heard Impulse say something else to Zed, in a chiding tone—though he couldn’t make out what. It didn’t matter, anyway.
Saving his family was all that mattered.
———
The cold heat of the soul flames danced in the air behind Mumbo, causing the night air to caress his neck like a comforting hand. He stared up at the moon, breathing in its glory. It was right, he knew. He was right. He was doing the right thing, loving and appreciating the moon. Even if he had nobody to pass the nights with other than the moon. Even if the world kept spinning whenever he stood up. Even if the shivering never really went away. It was all for the greater good.
“Mumbo? What are you doing up this late?” Impulse’s voice shattered the silence like TNT raining from the sky. Mumbo shrugged, not tearing his gaze from the moon’s beauty. Not yet.
“What are you doing up this late?” he asked in reply.
“Nightmares. You know how it is.”
Mumbo smiled slightly, realising that here lay an opportunity to bring another into the fold.
“Have you tried not sleeping?” he asked. Impulse laughed, but trailed off when Mumbo didn’t join in.
“...You’re joking.” There was a pause. Mumbo didn’t respond. “You are joking, right?” Mumbo simply shrugged.
Impulse walked closer, causing Mumbo to bristle. “Mumbo, please tell me you’re joking.”
“I don’t see why it matters.”
“Mumbo… when was the last time you slept?”
“It doesn’t matter!” Mumbo yelled, suddenly, seized by a rush of emotion he’d not been able to muster a mere five ticks prior. “Don’t you see?” he asked, a grin ripping itself across his face. Impulse took a step back, worry clouding his eyes. Not to worry, Mumbo would fix that. The moon would fix that. “We—we need to stay up! We need to appreciate the moon! That’s why it’s crashing! We didn’t—we didn’t appreciate it!”
“Mumbo…”
“But you can help! I only have two eyes, and you—you only have two eyes, but together we have—we have four eyes! That’s twice the eyes!”
“Mumbo.”
“Here, here, here! Take this!” Mumbo scooped up his book, rushing towards Impulse to press it into his hands. “It’ll explain everything!”
“Mumbo!”
Mumbo stopped his rant.
“...What?”
“Mumbo, you need to rest. Looking at the moon isn’t gonna save us.” Impulse walked towards Mumbo, guiding him to put the book down. “X has a plan. We’ll be fine, no matter what. You should… you should take care of yourself.”
“No, no, no!” Mumbo shook his head. Impulse couldn’t be right. Mumbo had to be right about all this! “I can’t—I have to—We—We have to…”
“Mumbo. Please.” Damnit. Since when could Impulse simultaneously do the puppy eyes and the mom friend voice? That was unfair. Mumbo sighed.
“Fine. One night.”
As if recognising his situation had flipped a switch in his brain, a wave of exhaustion hit Mumbo like a speeding bus. He realised all the symptoms he’d been denying were real, and his limbs felt heavy, and—oh, the world was spinning, wasn’t that lovely?
He felt arms catch him as the cruel claws of sleep dragged him away from his beautiful night. He was too tired to fight it, however, and slipped into the darkness.
———
“Wels?”
“Yeah, I’m here!”
Again, the hermits were gathered together. The mass teleport theoretically could’ve been done from anywhere, and in fact it usually had been in the past, but X had figured that since this was an unscouted seed, he’d want to be in his best condition in case anything went wrong, and that meant not burning his energy on finding everyone to teleport them.
“xB?”
“Yup!”
“And I’m here, so… Zed?”
“...Yeah,” Zed sighed in relief as X called his name. Everyone was here. Everyone was escaping. It was over. He was finally free. He turned to meet Tango’s gaze, a relieved smile on both their faces, as X entered a final command, and Zed felt and saw himself and all the others begin to dematerialise in the beginning of a world-hop. Just before he vanished, he made eye contact with X, who was staying behind a little longer to get their stuff. He nodded, and X nodded back, and with that, Zed was finally whisked away to season 9.