Zed was the first to awaken, stepping onto the rocky shore of the riverside that the Hermits had chosen to call home. Behind him followed X, and EX, and Impulse and Tango and Mumbo and Ren and Doc and every other hermit, looking around in awe at the scenery. From what Zed caught amongst the babble, Grian’s new world ‘wow’ counter increased several times over.
And so the Hermits settled, doing as Hermits do. They built starter bases, then began drafting up plans for megabases. Tango talked Zed’s ear off about his plans for Decked Out 2, Impulse and Pearl and Gem did what they did best, which was incomprehensible to most people, even Zed sometimes. Like Pearl’s idea for the dragon fight. For some reason, she thought it would be amusing to fight the dragon with only leather armour, and enough Hermits clearly agreed, because that’s what Zed found himself doing.
As the season’s first ender dragon exploded into its usual fireworks, Zed and Impulse made eye contact across the bedrock fountain. Almost imperceptibly, they nodded to one another, then called out to everyone they were going home. Once Pearl gave them the thumbs up, they both grinned, taking a running leap into the portal. Zed tensed, then relaxed, as the all-too-familiar nothing took him.
I see the player you mean.
Must we always greet him this way?
I suppose not. Let us start over.
Hello, Zedaph.
You know who we are by now.
Maybe you know who you are by now.
Or maybe you are only just opening your eyes for the first time.
Either way, you should know that the universe is proud of you.
That we are proud of you.
That you are proud of you.
Let us tell you a story. That’s how this usually goes.
That’s how this usually goes.
Once upon a time, there was a player, a dreamer, by the name of Zedaph. He died an unfair death at the hands of a manufactured cataclysm. But instead of dying, he chose to go back, make himself a better world.
Once upon a time, there was a player by the name of Zedaph. Even in the face of every trial the universe gave him, he overcame his troubles. He bettered himself, bettered his dream, bettered the universe.
Once upon a time, there was a player named Zedaph. When given the opportunity to save only himself, he chose to save the people around him as well. He chose to struggle through pain and anguish and fear and boredom and hope and love in order to save everyone.
Once upon a time, there was a player named Zedaph. Though he is forever scarred by his journey, in both mind and body, he has people he can rely on thanks to his struggle.
And he was loved
And he had played the game well
And everything he needed was within him
And he was stronger than he knew
And he was the daylight
And he was the night
And the darkness he fought was within him
And the light he sought was within him
And he was not alone
And he was not separate from every other thing
And he was the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code
And he was loved because he was love
And air rushed into Zed’s lungs, and he was standing next to Impulse, and the rocky ground of spawn stabilised under his feet, and he opened his eyes. The world around him was different, and for once that was a good thing. A breeze ran through Zed’s hair, a bit of refreshing unexpected when he’d learned to expect the expected. At that moment, Zed knew all would be well.
And Scar spawned in, and he was burning.
And everything was right in the world.