False turned around to look at the walls as she horribly blushed.

"Agh! Why am I feeling this again?", thought fifty percent of her mind.

The other half was cooing and sighing dreamily even more than before.

False forcefully got rid of most of her blush and looked back.

X was sitting on the command block, covering his beautiful face with his left hand, face beetroot soup red with humiliation. 

His right hand slowly reached for his helmet.

"Uh," piped up both Stress and False.

"Why do you have those scars?"

X grimaced. 

"Nothing."

Looking over at Stress, Stress seemed genuinely concerned (Like False) but not dreamily.

False on the other hand..

Never mind.

Iskall tapped his foot. "I think you owe us an explanation on those scratches."

The other hermits nodded in agreement.

X sighed as he fit back on his helmet.

"Fine then. Come on. Let's go to somewhere more comfy."