Request by @Smol_Bean103. I am so sorry this took so long to come out my brain just wouldn't function how I wanted it to I'm sorry please don't kill me-

And for the other people with requests, there's a minor request backlog (+procrastination x5000) so uh.. things may take time..

Word Count: 2,498
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All the hermits were gathered in the town hall, chatter spreading like wildfire.

You see, a strange occurrence had happened to each and everyone one of them recently, and none of them had a clue as to what it was. Except for one, of course, but he wouldn't ever say it out loud- So he hung out back in the corner pretending to be confused by the mysterious message that everyone had received.

But what was even more concerning was the long gone, buried and forgotten foreign language it was written in. Of course, once those days had finally ended, any remnants had been put away, so almost nobody remembered how to speak, much less read this language- Except for one person. The same person who knew what this was about. But they weren't about to share their knowledge. And in no way would they share it. Ever.

The letters were signs and symbols arranged in a spontaneous order, confusing the majority of people even more.

A simultaneous beeping noise rang out again, signaling the same message had been sent to everyone.

Xisuma looked down at the message again. He didn't know what it was, why it was, or even what it said, but what he did know was who had sent it.

There were certain things he just couldn't forget, especially after all the pain they had brought. Albeit, everyone had been affected and traumatized by it, but the rest of the hermits had suppressed certain things to lessen the pain.

He couldn't do that, especially when there were small, inconvenient hints and remains of what they had done, what they had brought just lying around in places that only he would notice and see.

There was still a lot of damage leftover that he was dealing with.

The message sent out again, sending a domino chain effect of chatter and hushed whispers throughout the hermits.

There was one person he knew who could maybe, just maybe be able to translate this.

He held up his hand for silence as his eyes searched the crowd- He felt particularly bad for what his target was about to be called out on.

Grian met Xisuma's eyes, seeming to understand.

He shook his head- No. No no no. No, he couldn't do this!

Everyone focused on Xisuma, the admin, the person with the answers. Nobody took note of the panicking person, maybe that was for the better.

"Uh.. attention everyone.. I think I know who these are from.."

Dead. Silence. Nobody spoke, nobody moved. Even breathing seemed to become less of a priority compared to hearing who was doing this.

"So uh," Began Xisuma, "I know this is a more sensitive subject, and I'm going to politely ask you all not to freak out.."

A few ideas sparked between the hermits, worry passing over a small portion of their faces.

"But I can say with near certainty that these messages are coming from.." His voice trailed as he mumbled something inaudible. He should've backed out, but it was too late for that.

Grian started shaking his head more, not wanting this path to even be touched.

Xisuma carried on.

He knew he shouldn't have.

Grian hoped he wouldn't have.

"I- I believe they are coming from.." Xisuma paused a moment, shifting his weight between his feet. His next words were like a thousand chains being dropped. Someone passed out, everyone went pale, tears began to flow and pure terror settled in on such a level it immobilized everyone.

"Watchers."

The same message beeped out again, but nobody checked it. Nobody wanted to check it. Zed threw up into the trashcan, but nobody noticed that either.

No, no no no no no. Panic slammed down through Grian, but it wasn't like everyone else's; Panic of the Watchers.

He was scared for himself. He was scared of the hermits. He was scared of what they'd do if they knew.

Because they sure didn't know the truth-

All Watchers were terrible, and that was a fact. Nothing would be able to change Xisuma's or anyone else's mind on that.

They were never good from the start- They just swooped in like a predator after its prey and took over everything. Builds were destroyed, worlds were corrupted, viruses invaded all code, and people were tortured for fun.

Lives were lost.

But the Watchers did make a small effort for one thing, giving a very certain amount of people free-passes to therapy and severe trauma- The Hermitcraft server, the used-to-be biggest server of them all. The Watchers always had time to hurt a few extra people here, take a life or two occasionally, or just send more people into hiding. The server quickly dwindled down to a small handful of people.

One day, they stopped coming. People stayed hidden for weeks, thinking it was a trap. It took a good month for people to surface, and years for things to settle down in the smallest bit.

The hermits had all found each other, survivors of the same attack, and grouped together. Xisuma, who knew little coding at the time quickly learned as much as he could, even taking some from the Watchers- He hated doing it, but it was the only option.

The server had been secured as nobody ever left it.

That was all around four seasons ago. It was currently season seven.

A couple of people looked to Grian, believing his pale face and semi-obvious fear was of them coming back as everyone knew his story.

See, Grian was a huge exception. One day during season six, he had come barreling through a nether portal, beaten and bloody. He was scared and shaking, claiming that his entire server, called Evolution, had been destroyed and that he had spent the past four years in hiding and trying to find a way out.

'Evolution' had apparently been an even bigger target than the Hermitcraft server, but that was all Grian ever let on.

Nobody pushed it.

Grian was thankful nobody pushed his lie. He nervously looked around, a bit pale at the thought of the truth coming out.

The message beeped out again as his native language translated in the back of his mind.

We know you're here. How have things progressed?

Grian began to shake a little, nearly screaming as Mumbo placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

Mumbo looked up, his voice shaking. "Uh.. Xisuma..? What's it... what's it say..?"

Xisuma looked at Grian.

Grian shook his head.

Xisuma walked over, quickly pulling him aside and away from Mumbo and the others, leaving worried chatter to spread again.

"Can you translate this still..?" He asked.

Grian paled a moment. "I- uh-"

"I understand if you don't want to, considering how they forced you and the others into slavery and made you learn and all.., but I was wondering if you still could..?"

Grian let out a breath, remembering his lie that he had given Xisuma as an excuse for saying some colorful words in Galactic- He passed it off as, like said, being forced into slavery and 'accidentally' speaking in the language out of habit- He also made Xisuma promise not to tell anyone of that either. The fewer people who knew, the easier.

If anyone could play the pity card well, it was Grian. Nobody questioned him or his excuses- His lack of specified past added to the broken, mysterious, and fragile lost puppy effect too.

He looked at Xisuma, slowly debating on what he should answer- On one hand, it was risky. On the other, his cover could be blown as he played his 'experience' so traumatic that while nobody questioned it, they all believed that he wasn't able to repress it.

Xisuma also believed that.

Grian let out a sigh, bit his lip, looked down, trying to do his best to make the tears in the corners of his eyes look real, and meekly nodded. "I can.."

Xisuma nodded and gave him a tight hug. "Thank you." He whispered.

Grian just nodded and hugged him back.

Xisuma let go and began trying to assure the hermits about everything being o-k.

Grian watched a moment before walking back next to Mumbo and Iskall, silently listening to their gossips on how bad Watchers were and how they were scared of them coming back.

But you see, they weren't bad.

Or at least, not anymore.

Grian wanted to tell them this, he wanted to help the hermits get over their trauma, his fellow Watchers come out from hiding, and for history to be set right.

But he couldn't- In no way could he, as he would be killed on sight due to how he obtained his knowledge.

Nobody would trust a Watcher anyways..

Even the good ones.

You see, everything mentioned before about the Watchers taking over was true. They were cruel and terrible, and they did slaughter many.

But they stopped.

They stopped because they got overthrown by Watchers more powerful than them- Kind Watchers. Friendly Watchers. These Watchers just wanted peace and harmony and to make up for the did damage.

They tried to make an appearance after the players had settled down a bit, but quickly learned that their ideas and hopes wouldn't be successful.

So, they improvised with the still reigning chaos.

Many Watchers, like Grian, had been sent to servers to watch over the players and their homes.

It was still a hope that one day there could be peace, but nobody believed it would come soon.

"-ian?" A pause, then; "Grian?" Xisuma repeated.

Grian looked up. "Huh?"

Xisuma just smiled a small bit. "As I was saying, we all know about Grians uh.. history.. and how his server was destroyed.."

A few pitied looks were tossed in his direction as the said admin carried on. "And well, part of that led him to be able to understand a bit of Watcher," A few whispers were passed at this, "So he'll be translating his best for us."

"Galactic." He corrected instinctively- "Watcher isn't the language, it's the species, which is another spectrum of complex. The langue.."

Some people looked at him in shock as his brain slowly took a moment to process.

"Is called.."

Oh no..

"Galactic." He finished.

The room stood silent as alarm walked in to cut a slice of tension from the air for the foreboding show.

A few more moments passed until someone- Stress- hollered, "How did you know that?"

Another moment before Iskall stepped back, eyes wide. "Grian.. Grian how do you know that?!..?!"

Mumbo too left his side as a circle cleared around him.

"He's a... He's a..!" Someone yelled from the edge of the ring, not able to finish their sentence.

"Wait, wait!" Xisuma said, trying to speak over everyone, "Grian is not a Watcher! He explained to me that he knew the language from when his server was invaded-"

Nobody listened to Xisuma though. Everyone started throwing accusations- Correct accusations. Anger flared through everyone as some reached for various weapons.

Sweat beads fell down his paled face. His vision wavered and twisted as his ears pounded in his head- Wait, no. His head pounded in his ears. He held up his hands.

"N-no—! I- I'm not a Watcher! I never-"

"How did you get through the portal in season six then!?"

"Yeah, and how come it took you like four years to get out of a server after the Watchers left!"

"Just admit it! You're one of them!" Spat someone else.

"I- I never told anyone that!! It's not like that-"

"Oh, so you're saying Watchers are good now or something? Hm?" Iskall seethed.

Grian nodded. "Yes! We are-"

"You admit it!"

"I- Wait!!" Grian took a step back. "Hear me out, just hear me out-!"

An arrow whizzed by his head, barely scraping his ear as he dodged it.

Panicking, he brought out his hands and sent a purple and white fiery shield of flame that stuck between him and the hermits. It quickly grew to the roof and barricaded everyone out.

"Just listen to me!" He pleaded. "I don't mean any harm-! We- The- The attacks stopped because the New Order- Those are my kind, the good Watchers!"

More people yelled as arrows his the shield and words were thrown.

"They stopped because of us! Now the Watchers are kind and we want peace!"

"Liar!"

Jeers followed suit of this as the hermits began attacking the border.

"Please!" He pleaded out again. "Please understand—! I don't mean any harm!"

More shouts were shouted as people began pushing the arch inwards, closing the bubble shield and wearing out the tender soul inside it more and more.

A couple of times he pushed it back more, but it just kept closing in. All his pleas and cries were ignored as history was refused to be altered. Yelling and shouting endured as weapons clashed on the barrier. His eyes going a faint purple didn't help this situation either as it only fed their blind anger and need for revenge.

Sweat poured down his back, causing his oversized sweater to cling to his frame. Small, medium-length stubs poked from his back.

"Wings!" Someone accused. "You even tried to hide your wings!"

"I had them cut off in order to blend in so I could help bring- Agh- PEACE!" Grian yelled back through gritted teeth.

This just renewed everyone's strength more as his bubble closed in, slowly going from arms distance to within touching distance and finally to forcing his elbows into his sides.

Tears pricked his eyes as he looked at the mob surrounding him. They had once been his family, once been his friends.

But now they were dead set on wiping him off this earth, and he knew it.

He sadly looked up at them all through tears, face contorted into a fine mixture of pain, agony, and regret. "I'm sorry."

The barrier pressed into his sides as he jumped up, curling his spine forward and bringing his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his knees as more purple flames burst out, the barrier falling into him and out of the hermits grasp. Is shrunk within seconds into oblivion, taking Grian with it and bringing him to some other place in a galaxy far, far away.

A single splat was left behind as a single tear hit the ground from the spot Grian was just in.

It was quiet for a moment as everyone drew to the conclusion that he was dead.

And I can't tell you any of them felt bad- Because they didn't.