They watched as the hermit spends the next days alone. 

Everything was falling into place perfectly. The attitudes of the others couldn't have been planned better, even if some of it had been forced in just the right way to make the meeting work well. It had been especially interesting to find out that it wasn't actually the real cat that was killed, it was a clone. But it didn't matter for the hermit, since he hadn't stayed long enough to find out. 

They were the hermit's only company, they realised. A wizard and a glitch. Only talking in dreams. They also realised that they weren't wanted here, since the hermit had stopped trying to sleep, growing tireder as the days passed. Sometimes he tried to leave his little wagon, walk around, stand watching his friends talking, unknowing that he was there. They would follow, and watch too, ever present, never going away. 

Soon.

Soon they would be back. 

Returned to how they should've been. 

Everything was slowly falling into place. 

Tensions were rising. 

Suspicions were growing.

And soon, they would control it all.

Scar lay on his bed. Most of the server knew about what had happened, and the only option he'd come up with was hiding. But he wasn't alone. He was never alone. Sometimes a glitched voice spoke to him in his dreams. Speaking of revenge, and return, and stuff he didn't want to do. He never wanted to hear it's cracked, malicious voice again. So he wouldn't give it the chance to talk. 

His eyes slipped closed for a moment, but Scar forced them to stay open. He'd worked long nights on his builds before. He knew he could survive a long time without rest.

Scar yawned, staring up at the ceiling. He knew the glitch was watching him still. It was always here. No matter what he did. But it didn't matter. He rolled onto his side, eyes wide, looking over at the book. The damned book. The thing that had caused all of this. Scar snatched it up, throwing it across the room as far as he could it. It fell open against the wall, refusing to break. Squiggles of galactic filled the page. Scar glared at it, unable and unwilling to read what it said from his bed, especially as tears blurred his vision and he began to cry. 

''̶̨̨̲̖̘͍̰̰͂̇̆ͅH̷̥͕͉͖̲̫̫̀̆͜ę̸̨̜͔̰̖͚̯̯̍̅̉̎̔̇̀̕̕͜l̶̫̩̜̣͓̩̀͊̍l̷̡̨̲̗͕͑̾̓̄̌̅̓̒́̏̋͆̏̈́͝ơ̸̬̣͔̤̼͓̤̟̬̟͈͋͊̎͒̓,̶͉̥̐̕ ̷̛̛̟̘͔͎̹̭͉̣̼̇̓̐̒̿̾̌́͒͒̾̕͠ͅS̴̺̳̰̟͍̖͎͈͆͆̇͜c̶̬͍̞̠͉̠̪͍̗̲̭̱̼̲̼͂́͛̏͒́̾͗͛̕͝ạ̷̛̬͎̩͚̳̭̠͇̻̪͙͙͓͔̿̇͌́͋̇͋̌̍̓̚̚̕r̸̳͖̬̯̤̰̭̱͓̮̖̍͆̋̋̑̈́͝ͅ.̵̛̞͇̓́̈́̈̌̾'̵̨̨̧͎̦̜̭̦͚̮̦̙̤̲̎͋̉̾̄ ̸̧̨̛̰̪͔̗̬̬̱̑͛͛͐̆̓̽̉'

He looked up as the voice spoke, as though he could see where it came from, but to no avail. 

'̵̢̢̢̹̦͍̠̭͚̝͙̎́͋͑͊D̶̥̦̻̔͐͆͗̊̎o̶̧̠̲̩̯̲̫͈̮̭̿͐̑̈́̈́n̴̠͕͍̈́͌̏̈́̿͋̃̈́̄̕'̸̨̡͕̻̦̦̬̤̳̱̦͚̫̒t̴̛̙̫̲̲̹̮̟̟͆̌̃̀͋̓̏̃͒̃̌͛͂ͅ ̷̣̟̱̹͈̥̬͇̱̻̞̤̭̀̈́̄̌̋̑̋̈̄́̌͘͘̚̕b̷̳͖͍̖̖͙̫̫̳̆ͅe̶̲̘̠͇͇͛̋͑̽̉̿͐̚ ̷̛̻͚̠͎̲̮͔͔̭̪̟̘̦̪̈̈́͑̍̾̔̐̈́̄͗͆͘ͅś̷͖̠̗͉̿̾c̶̢͔͈̫͖̯̒͐͗̄̾͐̔̄̀͘̕͝a̵̺̗͍̥̯̙͖̗͆̈́́͌̊͋́͋̀r̵̤̗̟̪̱͇̾̎̊̽́̅̄́̈́̇̓͒̃̅̚͜͜e̵̤̬͚̯͔̜̮̣̠̔̿͆́̇̒͌̕͜͝ḋ̷̨̼̟̬͈̲̱̞̱̣̗͔͉̓̋̐͊́́̈́̈͘ ̵̲̬̹̻͆̒͐̃͛͋͗͒͆̇̽̎̇̂̚͜ơ̵͕͉̻͛̈́͗̆̍̈́̃̔͐͘f̸̢̢̼̫̦̣̝̯͙̗̺͔͎̱͑̉͐̆̇̏́̍̾̓͝͝ ̵̫̤̩̱͉̘̞͋̌͌͊̀̂̐̾̄̓͘ḿ̵̛̠̲̣̻̘̝̙̄̓͛̉͑͘͜ͅẹ̸̡̡̫̤̻͔͚̞̤̽̏͗͜.̸̻̯̪̦͘͝ ̷̠̗͖̩̰̞̮̖̪̪͉̭̯̃̀͠Ï̵͙̽̂̈́̆̽́̽͝͝͠ ̴͖̲̝͖̎̓̓̐̆̾̓̇͘͜c̴̨͎̞̪̻͍̣̜̒͗͛́́̿̽̅̇͋͋ͅa̵̙̓̎͆̕n̶̠̟͕̠̘͚̫̲̬͂͗͌͛̈́̿̾̀́͝ ̷̛̦͖̀͊̎́̊͛́̏̄̓̚͠h̴̢̨͇̱̳̣̫̳͎͓͓̠̺͊ͅe̶̢̢̛̦͇̫̗̜̰͖̣͇̤̋͗̈́̏́͋͆̕͜͠l̴͉͙̗̫͈͇̓̇̎̓̾̓́̋͘͜͝p̸̗̦͍̘̹̭͉̖̫̗̻̖̟͒̚ ̸̘͉̤͚̮̼̝̮͙̋̓͜͝ÿ̴̢͇͙͓̩̼̤̠̙͉̫̗́̅͛̍́̀͌̐̔͋͛o̷̢̲̱̫̪̳͖͚̺͍̱̮͍̿̿̓̄̀̎̓͜u̴͓͎̮̮̻̬̥̼̭͋̎̊̎̍̈́͐̊.̷̛̻̱̰̙̊̑̀̉͑͛̍̈́͊̓͌'̶̛̘̞̳̣̰̖̘̣̞͕̠̩͛̄̔͐͊̐̀̾̓͒͛̍͊̍

'I don't need help...' Scar mumbled back.

Į̴̻̳͚̫͔͐͐̀ ̷̖̜̣̣̱̜͓̼̙̜̮̔͜ḳ̷̱̯̩͍̹̬̟̥͔̭̝̘̞̑̀͋̃̿̈̒̈́̐͗̅̒̚͘͝n̷̼̈́̒͐͝ở̴̩̪͌͒̃̑̏́̏͐w̷̧̼͕̏̇͑̃͘͝ͅ ̶̢̳̤̠̖̹̯͕̞̆̈́̈́̂͛͌̌͛̏͋͐̚͘͝ẘ̷͚̣ḧ̴̩̣̣̣̅̀̆̆̑̐̓̑̓͌͆̍͘͜a̸̧̨̦̞͔̹̙͒̓͝t̶̹͙͎̱͉̞͚̰̭͙̉͊͌̂̅̈͒́̈́͌͂̏͜͜͝͠ ̵͉͉̯̺͖̤͈́̋͌̑̌̇͊͐̿̕̚͜͝͝ť̶̝͕̦̜̲̻̪̩̠ͅh̷̡̜̗̥͕̎͒̍̎͒́̄͊͋̿̅͛ḛ̶̩͙͙̭͈̥̱̿̒͒̐̆̓̒͠y̴̜̱̯̫̺̦͔̞̾͗̅̽͛̂͗̎̿͑̏̈́̓'̸̥̓͒͆v̴̧̨̧̨̲͈̯͚̦͖̤̦̫̣̘͆͌͊͌͗̂̏͛̄̂̚e̷̮̙̦̋̑͗̔͗̽̿̐̽̽̌̏̚͝ ̶̡̯͍̫̰̦́̇̎̔͝p̸̛̹̝̖̗͕̫͒̓̉͌͋̅̂͗͐̆͋̆̉̿ừ̵̞̖̟̱̤̿̑͋͗̈́͘ͅţ̸̜̭̞̪̜̹̱̲̖̯̈́͗̅͊̄̇͑̽̽̉̌̽̓̿̐͜ ̸̰͍̘̫̪͐̾ͅy̶͍̪̳̾̀o̵̡̧͇͔̝̟̤̲͔̜̊̌͆̾̔̍̍͋̄͊̄̚͠͝ư̸͕͔͕̫̰̬̿͊̅̉̑̀̈́̀̂̈̌̊̚͝ ̶̩̹̠̯͛̿̂̅̑͒̈́̽͋͒t̵̢͓͇̥̗̩̂͊̂̋̉̃̍̐ĥ̵̢̛̫̤̯͉̬͔̰̞͓͉̩͆͋͌͘̕͝͝ͅr̶̨͉͒͛̏͜͝ǫ̵͚͍͙͉̽̔̈́́̇͐̈̿̍̓͒̚͠û̸̧̻͈̘̱̏̆͊̓̈́̽̊̉͆̑̚ģ̵̭̬̫͍̥̩͔̘̣̮͖̍́͑͘͜h̸̘̳̰̠̹̖̗̪̰͚̬̐̈́̏́.̶̡̘̮͙͔̟̦͙̭͂̿̌͘ͅ ̸̤̳̺̪͕̥͌̐̿̾̉̅̈́̅̈́̀͐̂͗̇Ḯ̶̧̛͍̜͈̠͔̰̥̦̦̙̳̫̐̇͂͛̊̓̊́̏̓̑̕ ̶̨̨͔̦̯͕̪͙̩͙͔̪͔͉̃̿͗͝c̷̢̡̧̦͔͎̻̪̝͓̗͊̋̊̂̏̒a̸̧̦̘̟̺̠̱͙̹̤͖̖̞͙̲͆̽̉̕n̴̢̗̠̝͕̻͍̺͇̫̘͂ ̸̹̦̹̞̾͑h̶̛͙͇̲̙̙̮͝ȩ̸̗̤̙̾̏̾͘̕ͅl̴͉͙̝̠͎͚̥̱̟̬̆̄͐̆̑̽̇̃̎̆͝p̴̛̻̺͈̱̱̎̈́̿̊̓͌̋͊̿̏̕ ̷͙̓̈̚̚y̶̨̳̞͎̩͕͖̿̈͘͝õ̵̡͇̟̪̰̤͔͇̣̾̒̓̐͘ͅư̵̛̜̼̻̇̌̔͛̚̕̕͜ ̵̡̢̰̮͉̗̫̠͔̹̖̰̂̋͜ǵ̸̻̤͈̘͔̭̗̏̀̈́̔͌̾̌͐̅̇͝͝ͅė̸̢͔̳͕̼̣͚́͛̓t̵̡̛͚̰̝̖͎̲͊̈́̃̉̅́̅͐͒͂̚͘ ̶̝͇͖̭̽͊̅̎̉͛̅̉͋̏̇̏͘̚͠r̸̞̰̖̖̆̋͜ȩ̷̣̠̒͊̈̏̽̒͆̀̓͊͘v̸̡̧̧̛͕̜̗͈͇̺̞̞̦̰̰̞͐̔̓́̒͌̄͋͐̆̈́̕ȇ̴̱̻̜̖̘̺͙̭̭̘̺̣͛̓̀͛ͅṉ̶̛͑͒͂̋̎͗̉̾̇̎͠g̷̨̨̺̝̘̯̜̭̙̝̣̟̟̾̇̅ͅe̷̢̼̱̥̞̬͚͍͉̰̜̦͙̙̐̔͋̂̏̐͊̕̕͜.̵͎͂͊̋̎̏ ̸̧̬̬͎̮̖̱̼̠̮̲̮̐̇͋̾̍̌̍͐̆͝ͅB̵͍͖̙̘̫̮̉̉͗͆͆̆̒̔̈́̚͘͠ŗ̴̖̩̹͉̻͓̻̙͈̺̼̙̪͉̈́͗͑́̾̔̃̄̑̃̀̂͗̄̓e̴̗̤͙̳̜͠ā̶̪̩̯̟̥̜͙̟̜̍͗́̀̂̆͊̚͝ķ̷̭̱̜̺̬͙̺̺̞̘̂ ̷̨̣̗̟̮̝͕̭̼̟̆̽̆̚ͅy̷͎̥̗̟̙̟̣͎̮̤̱̞͇̪̓̅̿̏̓͂̂͑͂͗ǫ̷̢̛̦̗͐̑̈́͒̊̕͜ͅṷ̵̧̢̼͗̓̓͆͘͝ͅŕ̶̨͓̺̘̭̗̣̱̦͙͎̙͍͔̫̔̉̌̋̄̀̍̈́̾̕̚ ̷̛̝͍̝̦̬̖̽̀̀̒̽͒̐̓̉̌͛̆͠B̶̧̨̠͚̩̫̮̬̫̪̜̬̩͎͒̏̎̎͛̕ŏ̷̥̙̲̖̹̜̲͖̗̭̻͈͔̘̹̃́̉̇̈́͋͐̚͠͝ä̶͕́͆̇ț̶̨͎̞͈͙̬̝̰̻̜̥͔̞͛̆̐̐͊͠ę̷̡̛̺̖̟͋̈̈́̃̀̇̍͋̓͑̀m̶̦̗͚̯̖̲̳͉̂͌̌̑͐̾͑̄̓̊ ̴̨̻̅̊͐́͊͛͝͠p̸̩̩̗̱̰͓̯̣̘̖̑̓̆̆ǫ̸̟̟̞̞̻̼͕̩͖͚̥̍̇͛̂ͅḷ̸͈̗͑̊̈͜ē̴̛̙̘͓̏̋̈́ ̶͖̙̣͕͚͔̤̩͈̫̄͋͗̋̈́̐͋̈́̅̈́̊̄ͅà̶̰͙̱̺n̵̡̳̘̳̍̓̃͒̾̈́̇̄̆̇͆̾̾̐͜ḓ̸̛͙̟͎̣͍̰̮̯͔̩̳̝͖̘́́͛̈̌̇̄͘ ̵͚̩̹̖̗͔̼̖̤̭̙̽̏̔̍͛͋̉͜͠Į̷̡̟̟̘͕͗̐̓͊͌̃̿̍̀̈́͋̏́̃̀ͅ ̴̢̛̖͎̳̉̎͌̾͂̏̅̉̈́̔̂̒͘̕ç̴̰͎̘̃͆̉̊a̸̞̅̎̒͒͗̀͜͝ṋ̵̰͉̫͓̳̬̣̽̒͐̏̓ ̸͎̼̆̉́̋̀͑̒͑̃o̷̢̡̡̼̩̳̫̗̪̤̒̽͆̅̌͆͒̅f̷̡̛̻͓̲̼̹̹̣̩́̔͊̎͑̇͒͌́̚̕̚͜͜͠f̴̧̡̧̢̬̣̱̰̥̲͇͚̊̔͗́̒͊̀̚͝͠͠ẹ̸͔̦̘̞̤͕̻̣̫̹͙͇́̃́̒̓̀͜͝͝r̷͙̩̠͚̈́͂ ̴̨̩̤͇͑̒͂̔̒́̏̉͂̓̏̕͠s̴̯̹̍͋͗͜͝͝ó̵̡̳̰̪͍̘̪͈̬̼̪͂̇̄͐͌̄̈́͐̂̆̔̕͝m̵̨͙͔̬̖͔̤̬̯̜̞̹͖̀͊e̴̢̱͖͎̬̱̤̗̻̠̗̦̫̯͆̿͊̋̅̈́͘͜ ̵͖̬͛̂̃͋̊̀̀͋̄̿͗̚̕͝ą̵͖͍͎̞͚̖̼͔̪̙̾̽́́̀̄̿̀̓͝ͅs̶̯͖͍̽s̸̫̰͐̈́͆̃̐̄͛̈́̈́̾́̊͐i̴̭̽s̵̡̮͆̀̈́̈́̀̾̑͛̓̒̓͌͑̑͝t̶͔͎͈̟͚̏͌͂͜ͅa̶̗̎̎̓͌̈́̍̾n̵̡̨̧͔̹̝͉̱̜͕͈̠̰͋̈́c̸̱̠̰̑͒͊̎́͆̉͒͌͝è̷̢̹͇͖̯͎̻̩̈́͑́̾̋͑.̵̛̠̏̂̆͌̽͝'̵̢͈̮̠̤̦͉̓̓̈́̐͗̎

'Why would I do that? They're my friends. The other boatemers are my friends.' 

'̵̢̢̛̜̳͎̩̩͖̹̹͇̞̇͑̄̉͊Ẇ̸̨̛̫̲̹̹͇̜͛̈̎̌̑͑̚ẻ̷̜̈̍͂̚'̷̥̗͚͈̤͇̱͙͓̻͕̤̺̹͆̂̄̃̃̕͝l̵̡͎̥͂̒̃̔̓̿̀̀͌̃̀̚͝ļ̵̭̠̝͚̳̦̪̼̬̼̱͈̰͔͋̉͊̈́͑͐̅̀ ̷̛̠̹́͊ş̷̡̝̭̝̙̗̻̤͓͂͑̈́̎̈̅̐̽͑̑̚ͅe̴̛͕̫̯̣̻͛ḕ̶̛̲͎̪͔͎̳̠̟̗̩̰͚̞̮̝̈́̏̿͊̈́̒̾̈́̈́̕͝'̷̡̛̟̣̥̦̤̦͇̤̹͍̟̦̦͍͌͑̏͂̾

'Go away.'

'̷̲͕̣͑̐̓́̈́̇͠͝G̷͎̭̱̪͚͙̩̗̱͙̜͋ͅo̴̡̥̥̪̩̳̰̘͍̤͉̟̔̔̾̿̅͐̀̉̕͜ơ̷̧̛͎͚̦̗̺͈͉̗͔̩̓̑̓̍̊̌̎͌͗̂̓͠ḑ̴̡̧̤̞̦̻̦̺̣̌́ņ̸̪̠̘͈̬̰͇͙͍̳̑̅͒̿̉̚ͅi̴̭̔̒̅͆͊̎̌̇̈́͑̕͝͝g̶̮̗̱͕̱̅̒̿̒͘ḫ̶̛̮͙͊̓̋̊͊t̴͈̣̽̃̎̍̌̾̓̓̓͗̀͝ ̶̧̨̧͙̦̥̦̾͌S̸͓̾c̵̨̡̡̹͉̰̠͉̤̈́̀̍̒̃͊͆̂͜ã̷͙̜r̸̡͔̠̘͚̳̰̞̠̱̱͙̎̎̔͌͝.̷̧̛̯͕̥͓̜̯̯̣̻̳̠̋̒́̈́͑̉͘̕̚͝ͅ'̶̧̳̥̠̮͇͖͇̖̯͗̉͐̐͆̀͑̀̿̽͂̔̚͘͝

'I said GO AWAY!' His furious outburst was followed by unhelpful silence. The voice was gone, letting Scar sit there as he began to cry. 

'Scar? Are you still there?' 

Grian's voice. Of course he was here. 

'If you don't want to come out you don't have to. But please talk to me. Everyone's worried.'

Scar refused to reply, knowing that it was a blatant lie. The other hermits hated him. The latest meeting had proved that. Jellie's death had proved that. 

'The other Boatem members are meeting up tomorrow to discuss plans? We want you to come too. All of us do.'

Fat chance. Mumbo and Impulse thought he was to blame. And he didn't want to talk to Pearl anyway. And they'd all done nothing as Doc and Ren ruined his life. 

'I'm leaving now, ok? It doesn't matter if you don't like us any more. B...but I miss you. I...I... really miss you. Scar, please, just come out of there. You're my friend. I miss hanging out with you.' 

Me too. A small voice in the back of Scar's mind replied sadly. The tycoon listened as Grian sighed, gave up, and flew away again. There'd probably be another flower left on the roof of the wagon, joining the others. It was a good way to keep track of how long he'd been here. Scar watched as the sun rose, ready for another day of doing nothing. 

Notch knew how wrong he was.

'Tried to speak to Scar again?' Cub let a tearful Grian into his base for the fifth day in a row, sitting him down. 

'I...I miss him...' The builder snuffled back. 'He's my friend...' 

'Me too.' Cub replied simply. 'Me too.' 

Neither spoke for a long time, letting the day pass by.  Eventually, Grian spoke.

'How aren't you crying?' He asked. 'Your closest friend's locked himself inside his base and isn't coming out.' 

'Someone needs to stay strong through all this. And it's going to be fine. At least... that's what I hope. I've learnt how to be the one that stays calm through bad situations. Comfort others that need it more. Find something good that would come of a bad situation. Because... I believe there's no need to cry when you still have hope.' 

'You're very wise.' Grian complimented sadly. 'I see why Scar wanted to be your friend.' 

'Thanks.' 

Something buzzed into chat, and Grian looked at his communicator with a sigh. 

'Boatem meeting. Apparently Impulse was setting something up.' 

'Good luck.' Cub smiled at the younger hermit. 'Try not to get too upset.'

'I'll try...' 

Grian flew off, over to the Boatem pole, where three of the other four Boatem-ers were. Pearl waved in greeting.

'Hey... guys...'

'Is Scar going to come too?' Mumbo asked uncertainly. 'Because I haven't seen him in ages.'

'I told him about it.' Grian replied. 'If we're really lucky he might come.'

'Wait... there he is! And... he's got an axe?' Impulse frowned. 

The mostly unseen hermit reached the rest of the Boatem crew, not speaking. 

'Hey... Scar... are you ok?'

He looked utterly exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. Impulse and Grian shared a concerned look and the latter brought up chat. 

You whisper to Cubfan135: Scar's come out at last. 

Cubfan135 whispers to you: K. I'll come over. Boatem village, right?

You whisper to Cubfan135: yes.

'You alright dude?' Impulse asked. 

'Hmm? I'm fine.' Scar replied tiredly. 

'You don't LOOK fine.' Grian commented suspiciously. 

'I'm fine!'

Cub swooped into the area at that exact moment. 

'Hey, Scar.' He greeted. 

'Who told him Scar had come out?' Grian heard Impulse whisper to Pearl, who shrugged back. 'Uhh... Boatem meeting? I made a mad thing like we always seem to do,' he spoke louder. Scar glared at him, before building over to the Boatem pole. 

'You know what I think?' He spat. 

'Scar, what are you doing?' Grian asked, trying not to panic. 'Scar?!'

'Don't touch the Boatem pole!' Impulse pleaded

'I don't CARE about the Boatem pole!' The tycoon burst out, and to the horror of everyone, brought his axe down on the sacred pillar. 'I don't CARE about this stupid group! I don't CARE about Hermitcraft, because you lot clearly don't care about me. He pulled out some flint and steel, setting the half-ruined pole on fire. There. Let them see. How dare they have their stupid meeting without him! How dare they act as if he doesn't matter! Scar swung down at the burning pole again, just as he realised. 

The first thing the glitch had told him. 

When you need help, just break the pole. 

A sense of dread filled him, as he was thrown back.

Everything is going to change... He thought, just as everything turned black, and the glitch took control.