I keep doing this thing where I'll write a scene, then another, and then realize the second scene should come first. I wanted this chapter to focus more on Grian (and Scar), but then I realized a bit more time should pass before that scene I wrote I took place because it implied that the sandcastle would be built in just a few hours... And then I accidentally like, doubled the chapter length. 

Anyway, my rambling probably doesn't make sense. Go ahead and enjoy. ^^

Oh! And also, if you were wondering, Grian mentioned Martyn in THG on chapter 13. Okay, now enjoy.

♡『♡』♡

By the time that the sun had set, Ren's base was complete. It was a rather strange build, Martyn couldn't help but think, but it was texturally appealing. Instead of solid walls, it was made of fences with wooden pillars to keep it sturdy. The roof had a false roof with more fences that acted as the real roof. Ren had explained that was only temporary to keep out the phantoms and other monsters. He said that once he got his hands on enough sand, he would replace it with glass to provide shelter from rain.

Martyn had to wonder why at that point he didn't just go take some from the desert, but then again, he didn't particularly care. This was an upgrade from the box Ren had from a few nights ago. He only had a small corner of the build done then, and hastily made the rest of the small shelter with dirt. 

Quite frankly, it had nothing to do with Martyn to begin with. This wasn't his base. And with that in mind, he pocketed the few things that were rightfully his and headed to the door with his hands in his pockets.

"Martyn, my dude, where are you going?" Ren called from the bedroom. His head popped out from the bedroom a moment later, revealing the face that looked much more canine than human. The shift had been gradual, but steady. Martyn had to admit that the transformation fascinated him, though he pretended not to be out of respect.

He was leaving to do some hacking in peace, obviously. He was so, so close. He could feel it. At the same time, if Ren realized what he was doing, he would surely stop him. He could put a stop to his entire operation, and he might even wrongfully suspect that he somehow had something to do with all of this. 

And, might he had, Ren would be disappointed in him. After the day they just had, talking nonstop with fruitful and absolutely invigorating conversation, Martyn didn't want to disappoint Ren.

"Well, I don't want to overstay my welcome, so I was just going to go to my base for the night." Martyn replied, pointing a thumb at the door, quickly shuffling his way over to it. But to his dismay, as he placed a hand on the knob, he heard Ren step into the room and speak again.

"Martyn, have you even begun building your base?" he asked. Martyn could hear by the tone that Ren was highly doubtful that was the case.

"Well--" Martyn began to lie. He stopped himself though, giving a nervous laugh. "I mean... how long does it take to build a dirt hut, really? It's not even that late..." He couldn't deny it really. He had spent the entire day with Ren, after all. What was worse was that even he didn't even buy what he himself was saying. It was absolutely no surprise that he turned around to a very unamused Ren.

"Stay here tonight, Martyn." He ordered. A pause, and Ren's expression lightened up. "Please."

Martyn's hand lingered for a few moments before he finally let go, sighing, and turned fully towards Ren. There really was no way of getting out of this, he realized. "Alright." He agreed.

"Thank you." Ren replied, and Martyn could hear the relief in his voice, as though he had been actually worried about Martyn going out. Maybe he really had been, which was an odd concept to think about.

"Sure." Martyn replied. He walked over to one of the chests and put all of his stuff away, minus the pillow and blanket that Ren had given him. "You take the bed, though. Thanks rightfully yours." And beside that, Martyn was well used to sleeping on a couch, anyway. And before even that, he had spent a year in Evo with a bed that genuinely felt like it had been chiseled out of solid stone. The floor was actually an upgrade from that, honestly.

Ren seemed as though he wanted to protest, but in the end, he ended up nodding in agreement instead. He yawned, covering his mouth. "I think I'm going to pass right out, my man. I don't know about you, but all this labor wiped me right out. I'm used to the mods on Hermitcraft that make building a lot easier." He yawned again. Martyn bid him goodnight and then Ren went in his bedroom, leaving the elf alone.

Martyn tossed his blanket and pillow on the floor, not really caring how it landed. He glanced back at the bedroom, and he was reminded that was the only part of the building that had actual walls, not just fences that he could see through. It provided Ren privacy. That was perfect, because that also meant that when he was in there, he wouldn't be able to see what Martyn was up to, either.

Martyn looked around. As far as decorating went, they had barely scratched the surface. Ren's bedroom had a bed and a chest hidden underneath the floorboards. The main room had an enchanter, a chest full of lapis next to it and a chest full of random supplies to the side. Throughout the base, torches gave off a soft glow to dissuade monsters from coming. That was all. With that in mind, he walked over to a pillar and slid all the way down to the floor before using the pillar as a backrest.

♡『♡』♡

It wasn't too much longer until he was back to hacking again. The light of his communicator stung his eyes in the dark room, so he decided to set it to text-to-speech instead at a low volume when he was pretty sure Ren had fallen asleep. That way, he could close his eyes and look away. This felt more familiar to him anyway since this was how he had learned to hack back at the palace. 

He carried on, digging deeper and deeper into the code. He worked to give himself permissions he shouldn't have one by one. It was slow going and difficult. Unlike what he was used to, the firewall and the underlying code seemed dynamic. It was adaptable and would change, almost as though sensing what he was doing and reacting by doing what it needed to avoid his advances. Dare he say, it almost felt alive. It felt like a battle of wits, in which Martyn had to do everything that he could to stay just one step ahead of it. He couldn't get kicked out now. He couldn't lose all the progress that he had made.

Finally, when the pure black of the night had begun to turn to a dark grey, Martyn had done it. He had gone as far as he thought he could possibly go. He had won against the firewall. He scrolled through all of the information, skimming it with his eyes to search for answers. Why were they here? Who -- or what-- had brought them here? How could they get out? Could he find a button to eject them all?

Unfortunately, after trying and trying, he couldn't seem to find a way to spawn an exit portal or otherwise get them out. He sighed, letting his head rest against the wood. So much for plan A.

It was in this dreary state, with his eyes so tired that they blurred, he could have sworn that the shadows shifted in the corners. Then, a few moments later, he heard Shadow's voice. 'You're still awake? You should rest, Martyn.' She said.

"But I'm so far. It took me hours to get to this point. With hacking, you have to expect your progress to be undone." He whispered back, the exhaustion heavy in his voice.

'Yes, but it's almost morning. He will be worried about you if you do not sleep.' she argued. The words made Martyn look at the door that had been closed all night. Shadow did have a point; that man didn't even like when he skipped a meal. He considered this.

"I'm so close." He argued. "I won't be much longer. There's just one thing that I need to check..."

'Oh?' But they said no more. He didn't respond to them, instead focusing back on the screen. He flipped through a few menus until he found the mods folder. He entered it, finding one single one titled "3#D L!f3." He narrowed his eyes at the file name. He watched as it changed to "3rd Life", then "#R& li$E", then "3rd Life", then "K!L! T'e'm @ll",  and then "3rd life." It was glitching in and out of what the file was supposed to be. The glitches were so quick that he couldn't quite make sense of them, but he guessed that they were all trying to say 3rd Life

He swallowed slowly as he felt his hands begin to shake and palms sweat. This was something. It had to be something. What would be unleashed if he went further? It was dangerous. Hacking was dangerous. At the same time, so was not knowing anything in this world.

'What is it, Martyn?'

"I- I think I found something. Hold on." He said. He took a deep breath before deep diving into the file.

The screen quickly became glitchy, parts of the screen flickering odd, blocky colors behind the code. The text-to-speech became harsh, intelligible beeps that hurt Martyn's ears. This wasn't safe, Martyn knew that, but he couldn't go back.

'What is that noise? What did you find?'

"I think I found the heart of the server. A mod." Martyn whispered. He squinted at the screen, trying his best to not close his eyes to the harsh colors or not to wince at the beeping. He felt his comm heat up with the overload of information that was flowing in at once. The text that appeared kept changing, making it hard to read, but slowly, Martyn somewhat made sense of it.

'What is the heart of the server?'

"Give me a moment. I need to focus." He told her. He swatted at his comm, turning off the text-to-speech. He stared at the mod. If he simply deleted it, would that fix everything? 

No. It was incredibly risky to delete an unknown mod. Certain mods that were so deeply embedded into the code, making major changes to the world, could destroy the world if they were removed. They would definitely have to be in the Main Hub before he could even consider doing such a thing. 

Refocusing, he tried his best to read the words as he considered what he already knew. First, this was a hardcore world. Second, each player had three lives. Third, when a player was on their third life... He squinted, trying to read the text that read:

'The th3rD liF# iZ char@cTeriSed by erythrothanosis. Thi ^cTuM ChaNgEd rstge64 red ysrtnngrste fvservaer turns tio 5whtsgseh Bl0od|$ in shegagrg twizt of f@t#. 3ch )aY tH# WinT3r 6R0vv $troninG#r. $|n6z ]ncU)3...'

He couldn't make sense of the writing. It was big block of text that kept going on and on, and the amount and rate that the text changed, he couldn't make sense of almost anything.

Red. Change. Shift. Blood. Twist. Winter. Erythrothanosis. Those were the words that he caught, but what did they mean?

When he couldn't take it anymore, he set down the com and rubbed at his eyes that had watered so much that he might as well be crying.

Something happened on the last life. He just needed to know what. He couldn't get it even from these methods, so what could be done?

When his eyes mostly stopped stinging, he picked up his communicator again. He went back to the player files and entered into Scott's files. It said that he had 3 lives remaining. He clicked on the number so that it highlighted. With just a backspace and a 1, he could find out. But then, he found himself hesitating. Could he really do that to Scott? But on the other hand, Scott was a completely unfamiliar stranger that would have absolute no impact on Martyn if he just happened to stop existing.

'Martyn? What are you doing?'

"I..." Martyn bit his lip. "I need to know what happens when someone is on their last life." He explained, lingering. He still wasn't sure he trusted Shadow, but in his hesitation, he was half seeking advice from it anyway.

'And you intend to have someone forcefully put into that position?' Shadow asked to confirm.

"Yeah." Martyn barely whispered, feeling the weight of his own words. He swallowed slowly before pulling out of Scott's files. He couldn't do that to the Admin. His eyes searched the list of players as he tried to determine the best candidate.

'Are you really sure that you want to do that? You would be putting them in real danger.' They argued, sounding somewhere between surprised, disappointed and concerned.

"I... I've done worse." He replied, visibly flinching at the memory. He had done it. And while his eyes may have been bound, he could still hear the quelch, the fluid-filled gurgle, the final croak. He could still feel the blood on his hands, his clothes, his --

He lightly smacked himself. There was no use in thinking about that now. That only proved that he could do something so cruel, at least if they deserved it. He had deserved it. Surely. And if he hadn't -- well, Martyn shivered as he felt his empty stomach twist.

Another smack. He couldn't lose it now. He could think it all over again at some other time. He took a deep breath and looked at the player list again. He couldn't choose Scott. Jimmy, Grian and BigB, were, of course, also out of the question. Ren would be just unfair.

'Still... I am not sure that this is the correct path to take.' Shadow argued.

"But I have to do something." He grumbled, beginning to get annoyed at the voice. What else could he do? If he sat there and did nothing, then what was this all really for? "Look, I'll go back and reset their lives later. It's no issue, really. I just want to see what is so important about this last life."

'If that can be done.' she replied, and he felt the weight of her words. If it kills them, there would be no going back. He had been taught many things, but raising the dead was not one of them.

He had no response, so he focused again on his work. He could do a Hermit, but... They were important to Grian. A sigh. Grian might incorrectly assume that this was some sort of revenge for their fight earlier and that could drive him into... whatever it was that apparently makes him destroy the Universe. So where did that leave him? Excluding Scott, that meant Joel and Skizz.

Skizz, seemingly being good friends with Impulse and Tango. Scratch that, that left him at Joel. No one here knew Joel. No one would be mad if he died. With that in mind, he clicked on the man's profile. He highlighted the number of lives. And then, he hesitated, just as he had with Scott.

Joel had a wife. A lover, trapped in the void just like Netty. Just what would Netty say if she knew that he was going to do this to a couple just like them?

On second thought, he should just go ahead and do it. He had done atrocities that Netty probably would hate him for, no matter how many times he reasoned with himself. He... had a lot of explaining to do to her, and he probably would do worse in the future. So why wouldn't he do it?

'Who have you chosen?' Shadow asked when a few minutes had passed.

"Joel-- I think." He replied, wincing at the way it had come out. What was with that nonconfidence?

'You don't sound so sure about that. Is it because you're doing this to an unsuspecting person?'

Martyn didn't answer. He didn't need to, because the answer was obvious. He let out a little sigh, feeling the edge of a headache peaking through from all of this thinking. It wasn't as though he could just ask Joel to like, consent to something highly reckless with a high chance of death or something similar. He couldn't ask anyone that. They'd call him insane. They'd try to stop him.

But then, an idea. There was one person on this server that would consent to it. One person who knew exactly what the stakes were. One person that wouldn't tell a soul of the results, if such a thing were possible. With that in mind, he quickly backed out and clicked on their profile.

It seemed as though Shadow knew exactly his plan, because once they heard the sudden rapid tapping, they called out, 'Wait, you wouldn't actually--?!?' but he would. He did. Before he could have any regrets, he highlighted the number of lives and replaced the 3 with a 1. Then, he saved the change.

His comm made him aware of the change, although it didn't message the server.

InTheLittleWood's lives have been reset to 1.

It was done. He had done it. And he felt... oddly fine, minus the anxiety buzzing under his skin. That was to be expected though. He backed out of everything and placed his comm back on his wrist.

'So you did it in the end...' Shadow spoke into the silence.

Part of him wondered if he had done it at all. It seemed too... normal, dare he say. But that being said, now that his work was done, sleep loomed over him. It was sunrise now, and he hadn't slept a wink. And as much as he wanted to carry on forever, even he had his limits.

"Martyn," said a voice. At first, Martyn thought it was Shadow, but then he realized it was too deep to be. No, this had to be Ren. He couldn't see. He couldn't even open his eyes. "What time did you go to bed last night?"

How was it that Martyn had felt fully awake just a few moments ago and now he couldn't even think coherently?

He didn't want Ren to worry, but it was probably pretty clear he didn't sleep much, if at all. Maybe midnight? No, too much. Three? That's be too little. And so, he opened his mouth and very smartly declared, "Twone." Perfect, now he would never know. Not too much, not too little. Realistic.

Is what he thought, until he managed to open his eyes. Ren was staring at him as though he had grown two heads. Then, before Martyn could figure out why, he sighed. "Let's just get you to bed. Here, I can carry you." Ren said. He came over, and when he didn't get any protest, lifted the elf bridal style. Then, he walked back to his room and set Martyn down on the bed. "I don't know what you were doing, but please... just rest now."

Martyn murmured a protest, but he could only half open his eyes, Ren's figure turning out to be nothing but a blur of colors. The bed was so soft that it swallowed him whole, and the blankets that were placed on him were like a fluffy cloud. One that had been harvested from the fluffiest, softest sheep in all the Universe and been placed on—

Ren had to snicker to himself. It had taken only a few moments before Martyn had fallen asleep. Sure that he didn't have to worry about Martyn being stubborn in that state, he walked out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door.

♡『♡』♡

Maybe Grian was getting sucked into the madness, because he of all people decided to expand some absurd monopoly there was no way him and Scar could actually reasonably control.

Well, it had been an excuse, really. He offered to cut down the dark oak forest more so to have some time for himself. To get some fresh air and some time away from Scar's rather strange ambitions. But in an odd way, it was actually fueling his own urge to be absurdly stupid and chaotic. The more trees he cut down, the more the prospect excited him.

His monopoly, however, was different from Scar's. He could cut down all of the dark oak trees in an evening. Scar, however, would take months or years to mine all the sand with the tools they had. There was a difference.

In short, Scar was a madman. Grian, ln the other hand, was an opportunist.

Grian actually had to set down his axe and laugh out loud at that logic. He knew that reasoning was a bit absurd, but quite frankly, he didn't care. Maybe he really was getting infected by Scar's madness in the end.

With that in mind, he took his axe back up and continued cutting down the very last tree.

—

When Grian returned home, carrying all the dark oak that he could, he found that Scar had been busy with the interior of their base. Being that they were both builders, and they decided to stay small and use the resources they had on hand, they had managed to complete it fairly quickly.

As always, Scar's design skills were amazing. He was one of the builders that Grian really admired, being able to create such intricate details  and breathe life into every corner of every room. Not only that, he made everything functional, with plenty of storage space, a kitchen, living room, a bathroom and a bedroom. Because of that, it looked like a real home, not a box with walls that provided shelter.

He took the time to tour the whole house before returning to the living room. There were two couches against the wall with a large footrest in the middle. On the wall opposite to one of the couches was a large window overlooking the desert with a jukebox in the corner. It was on one of these couches that he found Scar with his feet up and trying to steady his breathing.

"You've really outdone yourself, Scar." Grian told him, sitting beside his best friend. "But you look like you've overdid it, mate," and he was more worried about that than he cared to admit. He couldn't help but be protective of him.

"I—" Scar was clearly out of breath, heaving as though he had just run a marathon. He had to substitute his answer for nodding. "Maybe I— yeah... I think you're right..."

Grian frowned at that. Scar had been resting there since he got home, and he looked as though he had been there for awhile. That wasn't good.

Normally, Grian would get a doctor to check on Scar if he was like this. Normally, Scar would ask for one. But, however, Grian didn't and Scar didn't. There was no doctor here. No Doc, no Zed, nor anyone else.

Martyn, maybe. The thought crossed his mind. He probably learned something from Netty, right? But then, Grian dismissed the thought. Even if Martyn knew, even if anyone knew, they'd need equipment unless they were prescribing rest, which Scar was already doing.

It must be that Scar could see the worry on Grian's face, though he had tried to hide it, because Scar smiled. "I'll be fine... I've survived much worse." And he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Grian couldn't help but worry, though. Maybe it was true that Scar would recover if he was given time; but how was he going to continue on? What if they were here for weeks or months? Scar needed his chair! He needed access to medication, and a doctor just a call away!

He couldn't argue that though, because he could tell that Scar was all the more worried. Voicing his worries wouldn't help anything.

What Grian could do, however, was make his best friend more comfortable. With that in mind, he stood back up. "I'll be right back." He said, heading into their storage area. He rummaged through their meager supplies for a few minutes until he found what he was looking for: two pieces of wool and some wood. Moving over the crafting table, he created a few towels and a basin. Tossing the towels in, he lifted the basin with both arms and carried it to the kitchen. He filled it with warm water and with a grunt, managed to carry the much heavier load to the living room. When he set it on the ground under Scar, he half dropped it due its weight.

"What's that?" Scar asked.

"It's for your legs, Scar. You've walked all over the place to put this together; that must be killing you. Here, I know it's not as good as a bath, but I can use the washcloths to heat the areas that aren't submerged. Now, stay still and let me work." Grian explained. Without waiting, he gently grabbed Scar's right ankle and brought his foot into the basin.

Scar hissed at the sudden temperature change, as the water felt as though it were boiling. But then, as Grian put his second foot in, he eased, finding the feeling pleasant now that he had a moment to adjust.

But still, despite how good it felt, Scar frowned. "I know you said you'd be my servant... or whatever... but you really don't have to do this, Grian." He said as he stared down at the other.

"I know, but I want to." Grian replied, unfazed in the least. Taking a washcloth, he began to wash Scar's lower left leg, wetting it so it too would be soothed. "You're my best friend Scar, and I know you're going through a lot right now. I want to do whatever I can to make you feel even a little better."

"Grian..." Scar said again, as though to protest, but he didn't exactly have any other argument to give. Grian looked up at him and flashed a smile.

"You know Scar, you've always done so much for me. Just how many panic attacks, or nights spent sobbing have I had? Far too many to count. You've helped me through so many of those moments, Scar. So please, let me do this for you." Grian argued. Saying that though, he would have done the same even if Scar hadn't helped him through his spirals. He knew Scar though, and he knew that he sometimes felt like a burden. He needed Scar to know that he wasn't, and he wanted him to feel useful as well, because he was.

"That's... okay. Thank you, G." Scar said at last, accepting Grian's help. He let himself relax, letting his friend work.

Grian worked quietly for a few minutes, taking the time instead to focus on soothing Scar's legs. He noted to himself that he would either have to create a bathtub or gather more wool for more washcloths in the future. That way, all of Scar's lower extremities could be covered and soothed all at once. That was, if they were really were staying here for a long time. For Scar's sake, he really, really hoped they wouldn't, but after Evo, he knew that was most certainly a possibility. Things much worse were also a possibility.

"I say, let's take it easy tomorrow. We can stay here and keep things low-key. You know, get accustomed to living here." He suggested despite the growing list of things he wanted to accomplish. In any case, the most important things right now were making sure that Scar was resting properly and that they didn't run out of food.

Scar seemed to see right through his facade, but he didn't protest it. He knew better than anyone that if he ignored the warning signs of his body, he would only crash that much more. He did, however, protest one thing. "You don't have to stay here with me." He stated.

But Grian shook his head. Scar could get worse. He could need help, and while it was true that Scar was usually fine on his own, at least for a few hours, this situation made Grian anxious. It was probably the fact that they had no access to real medical care here, which could really prove to be a death sentence for Scar in particular. Grian wasn't entirely sure what he could do, but for now, he wanted to be Scar's side. "The messaging system seems to be working, but what if it goes back down?" He reasoned. Yes, that was another concern of his. "Besides, I wanted to start a garden here. We're getting dangerously low on food, and a reliable food source would be a game changer."

Scar seemed to consider this; what was being said at face value and everything that wasn't. Slowly and hesitantly, he nodded. "Alright. But really G, I really only need a day." He said.

"A day it is, then." Grian couldn't help but grin. He slid the wash cloths into the basin and, after Scar removed his feet, took the basin away to dump out.

♡『♡』♡

Fun facts in this chapter:

The th3rD liF# iZ char@cTeriSed by erythrothanosis. Thi ^cTuM ChaNgEd rstge64 red ysrtnngrste fvservaer turns tio 5whtsgseh Bl0od|$ in shegagrg twizt of f@t#. 3ch )aY tH# WinT3r 6R0vv $troninG#r. $|n6z ]ncU)3...

This translates to: the third life is characterized by erythrothanosis. The victim changes (???) red (???) turns to (???) bloodlust in (??) twist of fate. Each day, the winter grows stronger.  Signs include.... 

And then Martyn stopped reading. 

I'm a medical nerd, so I created the word erythrothanosis. I really wanted to make a condition name for being red. I kept coming up with ideas, only to realize two seconds later that the word already exists, and is used for something entirely different. For example, my first idea was hemophilia (hemo-blood, philia-love/affinity). However, then I realized that hemophilia is the term for a type of blood clotting disorder. 

Anyway, after staying at the drawing board for ... more time than I'd like to admit, I came up with erythrothanosis! 

Erythr(o)- = red

Thanatos = death. It is also a theory from Freud, which describes that all living things have a subconscious "death drive," in which they seek to become unliving. It's characterized by self-destructive behaviors, such aggression, risk-taking, self-sabotage and reliving traumatic experiences. It's balanced by eros, or the "life drive." As with most things Freud, the concept is widely disputed, but destructive behavior is seen in rednames. 

-osis = Condition

So basically, the condition is literally "red death condition" which I think is pretty fitting. 

.... I'll fully admit I mostly made it up due to my nerdiness. Genuinely, I have no idea if it'll ever be mentioned again, but it does make me happy.