Hey, hey. Guess who got carried away?

The idea came to me a little too quickly, and I had way too much time to work with. To whoever has to read this, I am very and truly sorry.

Story takes place in season 6.

No trigger warnings, I don't think..?
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Word Count: 7,491
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"Where are you going?"

"You don't need to know."

"Will you come back?"

"..."

The hardwood floors sank underneath the weight of the figures walking past, giving way with a soft creak after every step. The house was cold, and completely desolate. Inhabited only by dust bunnies and mites of all shapes and sizes. What may have once been a warm and humble abode felt only like a cemetery of forgotten memories, left cold and barren for time to come and claim; its visitors were unwelcome.

Grian led the way with a steady gait, his pathing slow yet precise. Mumbo and Iskall followed close behind, clearly dubious of what appeared to be the hull of the home, but kept up nonetheless. The patterns on the walls were small and intricate, clearly akin to some of the grander things that the newest hermit had proved himself to be capable of. The ceilings were tall, and the rooms well furnished. A lifetime's worth of skill and experience having melded into a single build.

At last they came to a stop inside the master bedroom, the air stilling abruptly as they stepped through the open space. Grian walked forward, gaze fixated on the closet in the corner. He reached out to grab the handle, though a sudden hesitation crossed his mind. Still, a pair stood behind him now, waiting patiently with bated breath. There was no turning back now. He opened the door quickly, too afraid to spend a moment too long considering his options, and opting for something else. This was what he wanted, and not a single doubt would cross his mind, or lead him to think otherwise.

A metal sheen reflected the dim light, the vague semblance of a human form emerging from behind the wooden frame. Grian held it by the arms, gently pulling it out and laying it down across the ground. A rush of memories ran through his mind, only quickening the pace of his already racing heart. Their conception, his progress; all of it came back to him within a heartbeat. The guilt struck painfully against the hull of his chest; if there was any damage, whose fault could it have been but his own? What could he do to repair it?

"This is NPG," he stated solemnly, looking up to his fellow architechs with a pair of pleading eyes. Ones that were glazed over with hope, and an underlying sense of despair. "Help them. Please."

Mumbo and Iskall shared a look, one more time. The project ahead of them was one made out of metal, powered solely by the dust they had studied for decades by then. They didn't need to think about the messy consequences of manhandling life; not this time... right? Ahead of them now was simply a machine. Surely, they could do this. Surely, they could pull this off. After all, redstone was their specialty...

right?

-

"Who am I?"

"Whoever you want to be."

"Who are you?"

"Whoever you want me to be."

NPG. It stood for "non-player Grian". Talk about creativity. How long did that take to come up with? NPG was supposed to be a simple machine; a tool to help with building. Getting attached was never the intention. Nor was making familial bonds with a non living entity. The universe had other plans, he guessed.

Even now, as he tried to call out to his sibling, a pang of regret tugged at his chest as he called out, "NPG". He had never meant for it to stick, he had never meant to care. But he did, and he wished that they had something more human to respond to.

NPG didn't mind. They loved their name. And they loved their brother.

They were a part of him, by name.

And he was who they wanted to be.

-

"You're gonna have to grow out of it someday. You can't just keep doing this forever!"

"But- but I like it like this! Why does it bother you so much?"

"I dunno, just a little creepy, man. What did I mess up to make you like this?"

"I'm messed up?"

"Wait, that's not what I-"

The pristine white walls were unlike anything they had ever come to know. As they trailed their fingers delicately over the hard surface, NPG took note of the sound that was produced by the contact it had against their metallic body. The concrete had its rough edges; they could tell. Uneven, yet smooth. A geometric behemoth that they were struggling to comprehend. EVO, from what they could recall, was built up entirely on unconventional blocks for building; wool was used for almost every colour that couldn't be found out in the wilderness, and snow was often the placeholder for whitewashed walls. It was why the lack of a slight chill in this base felt unfamiliar, as though the structure wasn't fundamentally made out of sleet.

"Concrete." Grian had said, placing a block in their hands. It had been the first thing he had formally introduced them to, after arriving in Hermitcraft. It was lighter than they would have anticipated, it's texture too smooth and refined. "A new block they added. It really enhances the building experience. You should give it a shot sometime, if you want."

The perfect white cube was new and exciting, but it felt like nothing in comparison to everything else in the world. After all, there was an ocean just outside, bustling with life though barely visible underneath the surface, and there were wings on the hermits' backs, spreading just enough to let them drift along the open air. A block was much easier to understand in comparison to everything else, but even then, they were struggling. A clear sign that they weren't ready to comprehend any of the other stuff just yet. After being shut down and broken for so long, who knew how much they had missed over the passing years.

NPG had taken a moment to process the words, the concept of change flying right over their head. This was not the world they had left behind, oh so long ago. Still, a response was needed for the conversation presented, and all they could really do was sigh, confused and exasperated. Part of it directed at the universe, most of it towards themselves. "Give me wood," they responded with a chuckle, the ghost of a smile returning to their face. "You know what I want to build."

That was how they had ended up in the corner of the main base, tucked away nicely in their humble little abode. The old and rotting wood felt more familiar to them, the textures exactly as they remembered, and the process just as fun. Even then, it somehow felt different; the build was small and compact, but detailed nonetheless. The options they now had were almost baffling, with so many different types of wood to choose from. There only used to be oak, and birch, and spruce. When had they discovered dark oak, or jungle wood, or acacia? It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, per say; the new variants of blocks manifested a much better palette in their eyes. It was evident that a lot had changed, but maybe it had done so for the better.

Their little base felt warm, well decorated with room for only one more. They were happy with the space that they had made, though the brown shades stood out a little too easily against the white. It was very obviously out of place in the build, but Grian had clearly stated that he wanted it to remain.

"It's definitely better furnished than my main base," he had laughed when he first saw the place, a fond gaze fixed firmly on the architecture. Instead of lashing out the way NPG had expected, he had wholeheartedly welcomed the addition to the base, and by proxy, accepted them as well. As hard as it was to differentiate at first glance, it quickly became obvious that Grian, too, had changed.

Now, he was more open, and confident, and caring than he was before. He didn't question the rustic house, nor did he let it scare him away. There was no room for debate on the matter; NPG liked what they liked, and Grian didn't bother to argue it away. The wood and concrete were as different as he and NPG, similar yet contrasting in the worst possible way. But if the two contradicting palettes of these two very dissimilar bases worked in his eyes, then so did their relationship. And NPG felt more resigned, too, letting their brother do as he pleased. There was no need to fight over which style was better; they were both good, if only a little different. It was... nice, being able to get along in such a way.

Yeah. This was nice, they decided, retreating to their own base. Different, but nice. The wood and concrete contrasted one another, but also came together in a special way. After all, the rusted walls and the pristine shades were both the same difference that time had made.

-

"Fishing? But I don't see any fish?"

"The water's too murky, you wouldn't see them anyways."

"What about the ocean? Is it too murky in the ocean?"

"Who knows? Maybe someday, it'll clear up."

The clear blue waters gave way to a plethora of fish, blissfully swimming past the glass structure in large schools. A wide range of colours reflected off of their scales, shining brightly in the sunlight just above. From this deep within the ocean, they looked more like birds soaring high in a deep blue sky, peacefully flying by. Had it always been like this, just under the surface? Would they have been able to see this if they had simply looked just a little bit deeper?

Back then, as they walked along the beaten roads, NPG used to find themselves drawn to the water rushing past. They had seen people cast a line, a fine white string woven purely out of silk, and toss it into the running water. Sometimes, all that came back was a small splash of water. Other times, there came a fish. They remembered the blue scaled creature vividly, struggling in their brother's arms as it slowly went still. Grian said that it was food. When NPG asked where it came from, Grian admitted he didn't know. Now, the answer was right there, ahead of them, silently drifting away from their sight as it went about its day.

'Pretty,' they decided. The spectrum of colours that they could now see were absolutely beautiful, and gave them a good grasp of all the vibrant hues that they had missed. NPG pressed their face against the glass in an excited manner as they tried to get a better look, quietly ignoring Grian, who was absolutely reeling with laughter. They knew that they were a little bit slow, often taking a minute or two to process or understand even the most basic information. But this time, the sound felt fond. The laughter was loving. And, in some ways, a little bit accepting. They weren't being made fun of; not this time.

Earlier that day, Grian had dragged NPG down into the ocean, forcing them to come and visit the bottled shipwreck. The short swim downwards had NPG sputtering and staggering by the end of it, and Grian worried beyond belief if the systems could handle water, but it was well worth the trip. While they felt way out of their depth in the futuristic base, this better matched their pace. The aging wood, the intricate structure; all of it was more akin to their style of building. Not exactly a rustic house, but definitely a rustic ship. And the view. The view outside was stunning. They didn't ever want to leave.

"Do you remember animals?" Grian asked offhandedly, gently running his fingers along the glass. NPG hummed in thought, then laughed softly. Animals were adorable little creatures that could be found in the wild; they remembered the hours they spent alongside Grian, wrangling them into a pen. It had always been fun to raise them, and even more so to pet them. The house felt less lonely with all the company around.

"I remember animals," NPG stated proudly. "There were pigs, and cows, and sheep, and chickens."

"And there's so much more than that, now." Grian smiled, pointing at the fishes outside. "Those are all animals. And they live in the sea. We get to see them all, now."

There was something about that sentiment that was filled with wonder and intrigue. The simple possibility that there was so much more to the world than what they had already seen. "Those fishes?" they tried, getting a feel for the concept that they were more than just food. "But they don't have any legs, though. How can they count?"

Grian laughed; yet again, it was that fond, loving laugh. There was no malice, or ill intent behind it. Just a gentle, loving sound to acknowledge their concern. "You got me there. They definitely do not have legs." he smiled, clearly enjoying his sibling's presence. "My favourite animals are parrots," he said suddenly, changing the topic. "Have you seen parrots?"

NPG paused to think. Their memory was fuzzy, but the word seemed to ring a bell. Surely, it was something that Grian had built. Somewhere in their super flat sandbox, he had created a creature with that very name. Something colourful that squawked and mimicked words. But they hadn't even known that it was a real thing, let alone an animal of some kind. Were they also like a fish, with no arms and no legs? Or were they like a zombie, closely resembling a human form? Maybe they looked more akin to sheep and cows? Or perhaps they looked like chickens, with small yellow beaks and huge white wings.

There was only a tap on the shoulder to remind NPG that they had been in their own head for a moment too long. When they glanced over, Grian looked back with a raised brow and a questioning look. His gaze was warm; patient, even. He didn't seem too keen on rushing a response, or forcing an answer. He was just there, waiting. They remembered the days when he wouldn't have bothered to stand by, quickly dropping the subject and moving on. There was a sudden pressure to respond.

"N-no... at least, I don't think so..?" they finally spoke up after a moment of careful consideration.

Grian smiled. "They're lovely little birds, and they can even sit on your shoulder! If you feed them seeds, you can befriend them. And they dance!" The excitement in his tone of voice was a bit jarring, but it brought a smile to NPG's face. They hadn't a clue what it entailed, but they couldn't have cared any less. If their brother was happy, then so were they.

-

"Is that Grian?"

"No, it's his sibling."

"Oh. Strange, they both look so alike."

"Yeah, apparently, Grian made them. Or, from other accounts that I've heard, repaired them."

"Oh? So like, not a real person?"

"I can hear you, you know..."

NPG remembered EVO; they remembered feeling lonely, and discarded, and obsolete. The metal appendages were by no means flattering to look at, and even Grian had begun to scrunch his nose up in disgust. The other Evolutioners weren't nearly as cruel, more kind but hesitant still, often offering their pity to the obviously lonely kid. But NPG had already grown into a sense of dejection, and didn't believe that anyone really wanted to befriend them. No one really knew how to approach them, so they did the world a favour and avoided everyone else entirely. Hushed murmurs had never fallen on deaf ears, but they liked to pretend that they couldn't hear.

Hermitcraft, on the contrary, was different in comparison. There were no whispers; either that, or the others did a better job of whispering. Neither Iskall nor Mumbo rejected their appearance or existence, and they had been seeing the two hermits quite frequently, often hanging out with Grian. They never bothered to talk to them directly, but the simple gesture of greeting them with a smile whenever they came around, or simply waving as they flew in was always enough to appease them both. They wondered what it was like to fly, but the high heights and quick movements were often nauseating. They had fallen enough times to know that they didn't like it. There was a sense of envy when they saw the hermits glide easily through the air, but they didn't quite mind. In fact, they were quite happy for them and how content they seemed in the sky.

It was these little things that counted oh so rarely in their everyday life.

The hermits flew. They flew a lot. Things seemed a lot smaller from high up in the sky; surely, it would have been hard to tell with the red attire and blonde hair. The towers in EVO didn't reach nearly as close to the sun as some of the hermits did as they flew, and even then, buildings and structures underneath appeared to be nothing but a blur. They didn't mind having their brother's name being yelled at from a distance, before the source of the sound disappeared completely, nowhere to be found. Time and time again, they would be confused for someone else. Grian had explained that the vanishing hermit was probably just a little embarrassed, and had nothing against them. Who were they to question his brother's words?

So, when they heard their brother's name being called out one day in the shopping district, they didn't bother to flinch. They were sitting by the travelling cart, trying to get their bearings of the area. Grian had gone grinding for sand, and had left them here to explore, claiming that the desert would have been too boring for them to have tagged along. Granted, they were a little bit bitter, and maybe even a little dejected at being abandoned like that, but they didn't bother to argue the sentence. Here was infinitely better than the closet.

"Hey, Grian!" The voice called out again, followed by footsteps. NPG glanced over, the hermit's face falling slightly once they had noticed the difference. They looked somewhat surprised, rather than disappointed.

"Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else..." they admitted, awkwardly rubbing the back of their neck. The bright orange hair caught their attention; it was a pretty colour. There was a lot more about the girl that NPG sensed they should take notice of, but didn't; the subtle stitchings along the face, the decaying flesh on parts of her body. NPG had seen themselves, so who were they to judge? They were just pleasantly surprised that she had opted to stick around, unlike some of the others. And they had been meaning to meet the hermits at some point.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." they smiled, piping up slightly. Maybe exchanging a few words would have been a good thing for them, at this point in time. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah. I'm in need of some sand, and there doesn't seem to be any in the other shops." A pause. "Is there any in the cart? I could really use some right about now."

"I think Grian said he'd run out... left me here while he goes out and grinds..." NPG spoke with a slight sigh, and the hermit glanced over, a kind smile pulling at her lips.

"Well, I can't do much without any materials, so I guess I'm free for now." A short, thoughtful pause. "Would you like me to give you a tour of the district?"

"I'd appreciate that. I can't tell what on Earth's going on, if I'm being honest..." NPG laughed nervously, admitting how lost they really were. "Everything's so vibrant and grand, I really can't process everything sometimes."

"And I'd be happy to help." The hermit smiled, lending a hand for NPG to take. "My name's Cleo, what's yours?"

A smile. "NPG."

It felt nice, not being introduced by someone who couldn't understand.

-

"Can you tell me what happened today?"

"Sorry, bud. I'm busy right now."

"When will you be free?"

"Never, if you're still around me."

A campfire cackled softly in the cold night air, bringing about a feeling of warmth. NPG stayed away from the heat; they couldn't afford to let their systems combust. The cold didn't affect them anyways, so it didn't matter for them. Grian, however, needed desperately to keep himself warm in the bone chilling temperatures, and so did Iskall. The three had gathered inside the inner depths of Sahara, surrounded only by the scaffolding that would eventually become a large shop.

They kept a firm gaze on Iskall; despite having met the other hermit, they couldn't help but feel nervous around them. Iskall was staring at the flames, gaze flickering between the fire and their friend. This was how they had been spending their evenings ever since Sahara had been conceived, the only difference being that NPG was now part of the nightly fire. Until then, they had simply been hanging out in the base, and big brother had decided that it was about time they went out and got some fresh air.

Grian and Iskall were talking, the conversations flowing easily with an unspoken sense of camaraderie. NPG simply sat by and listened; they listened to their plans for Sahara, they listened to their thoughts on the other businesses, they listened to their grievances about Mumbo being absent for yet another meeting. This one wasn't nearly as formal, but it still seemed to count. NPG liked listening to what they had to say, trying their best to better grasp the world they were in.

Back then, all they could do was listen. Listen to their brother, and listen to his friends as they went about their day. 'Better seen and not heard', they had been told, as they watched their brother drift away. Grian didn't have time to hang out with someone he didn't like; he didn't have time to hang out with NPG.

But now, they were there, in their brother's presence. A little ways away, yet closer still. They didn't dare to drift any closer.

"Do you remember, NPG? How we used to play at war, when we were kids?" Grian asked suddenly, his attention now on his sibling. NPG paused, before nodding. When they were younger, they would build their own standing army and lead a crusade against the other. They remembered it well; the pranks, the laughter, the fun. It had been years before EVO; years before everyone else.

"We did something similar. But, with ten or so people, and a huge scale project. We called it 'Civil War'." Grian smiled. It sounded like fun. "The conflict ended a few weeks before you arrived. I would have gotten you on our team, if it hadn't finished already."

NPG smiled. They liked the thought of being included. "How did it start? Did you have trouble setting it up? What happened?"

Iskall laughed. It was an addicting sound. The cold night air dissipated slightly to account for the disturbance. "Man, it's one heck of a story, dude! Trust me, even we don't really know how it happened."

NPG tilted their head curiously, a smile tugging gently on their lips. "Could you try to tell me."

"Oh, we can try alright." Grian laughed fondly, before clearing his throat. He inhaled deeply, preparing to relay a tale within a single breath. "And it all started with the chicken in the Grian costume..."

-

"What are you doing?"

"It's none of your business."

The sidelines was always a safe place to be; away from the people, away from the chaos. Away from the fun. They had always been in the way of everything else, be it a server wide conflict or a single build. An unnerving silence rang in the air around them as they kept their distance, often watching as their friends had fun together. What could they have done, if somehow, they were to get involved? All they knew were buildings and rustic houses. Most people saw them to be something creepy, while others thought of them as something wrong. So, in the grander scheme of things, they were useless. Unable to complete even the simplest tasks with ease.

It was an unfortunate situation, really. They were never told why they had ended up looking the way they were, but appearance alone had been enough to drive away a good number of people. Children often poked fun because they were different, and even in EVO, people had a tendency to look the other way whenever they crossed paths. Even from a practical point of view, they were greatly impaired; the metal joints rendered them little to no mobility, and energy was always a cause for concern. Already, they were a walking corpse in an open battlefield.

So, when Grian nudged for them to help him out in the Build-off, they were undoubtedly a little bit surprised.

"But I don't- I don't know how to build..." NPG spoke almost sheepishly, already sensing the disappointment. It was true; they knew nothing. They were a lonely little mess, a dog with only one trick. They couldn't build with concrete, or bricks, or even stone. They only knew how to use wood, old and aging, a moment away from withering completely. That was all they were; old and obsolete. What use did Grian have from using them? What could he have possibly gained?

NPG shifted backwards, seeking solace in the very corner of the room as the walls came closing in. The hermits had travelled to the newlands to embrace their new lives, and already, conflict was starting to brew. NPG had seen what Grian was capable of; the house they were in now only attested to his skill. The flimsy wooden structure absolutely towered over everything else in the land, and now, newer, bigger buildings were emerging to oppose that height. There was a lot at stake; they didn't know what, but it felt like a lot. Why else would the others have done so much overnight? They couldn't even dream of living up to all of that; not at all. But Grian simply smiled his reassuring little smile, the gesture alone helping to calm them down.

"What are you talking about? You're great." He stated firmly, one hand reaching out to hold onto NPG's. If NPG could feel physical sensations, they were certain that it would have felt warm. "Don't downplay your skill, alright? You'll be right where you belong with the plan I have in mind, and you're going to do great."

"But- what if I'm not able to follow through?" NPG hesitated, tightening their grip. "You know- you know that I struggle to follow instructions!"

"I do. And I understand now what that means for you." Grian sighed softly, his gaze softening some more as he made eye contact with the younger, staring directly into their eyes. "I made my fair share of mistakes in the past. I was immature, and impatient. I never bothered to wait. But I won't let myself hurt you ever again." His voice was heavy with a sense of guilt, the regret seeping easily into his words.

NPG stiffened slightly at the sentiment. This wasn't right. Surely not. "N-no, no, you've never done anything wrong..." they laughed, soft and bitter. "You never do anything wrong... it's always me, I'm the one who's in your way-"

A hug was all that followed, quickly silencing their thoughts. NPG was a little taken aback; they weren't used to human contact. It was warm; the temperature had no effect on their metal body, but the gesture sent a fuzzy little feeling fluttering inside their chest. The grip was tight, but not claustrophobic. They welcomed the enclosed feeling with relative ease.

"You're not in my way, buddy. You're not in my way..."

Carefully, and almost cautiously, they brought their hands up to his back, and gripped him tightly. Afraid to let go of their brother, afraid to lose his warmth, they held on with all their might.

This was not something they remembered from when they were kids.

-

"Wha- what's happening? Are you guys fighting?"

"Oh, no, no, no. We're just playing around. We're not actually hurting anyone. Do you want to join-"

"Go away, NPG."

It had been an unremarkable day; NPG was seated on the steps leading up to Grian's towering house. The peak was obstructed, the skies overcast and raining, but they knew that it went well above the clouds. They had helped to fill in some of the finer details, and were relatively satisfied with the final results. The high heights were sickening, so they helped out as much as they could near the base of the structure, as well as in the design and planning.

Grian wasn't home that day; he was somewhere in the far distance, living in RVs and playing the role of a hippie. It almost felt ironic, given the futuristic lifestyle that he had been living up until that point. And it was also somewhat humorous, how he had built a house and abandoned it immediately. NPG had free reign over the place, and they were happy to spend the next few months furnishing every level. It was a shame that they didn't have the resources to start, hence why they were sitting on the steps, waiting for the rain to clear. Their systems were waterproof, but they didn't enjoy having to pour out all the liquid afterwards.

It was sudden, and completely unexpected when a hermit approached them with little to no warning. With a gaze fixed firmly on the cobble path ahead of them, they could barely hear the footsteps over the sound of falling rain. Only when a pair of shoes came into their field of vision did they think to look up.

"Who are you supposed to be?"

An unfamiliar voice called out. There was something frightening about the tone. They paused and held their breath, feeling their heartbeat picking up.

In front of them were two men; both adorned in black suits, eyes covered by a pair of shades. Both held an umbrella in their hands, carefully shielding their bodies from the pouring rain. There was a metallic sheen on the face of the speaker, and a gleaming red eye. NPG stared; it was a pretty colour.

"Don't be so rude, Doc." Another voice picked up, this one more benevolent. His voice was less formal, more relaxed. NPG felt as though they recognised that man. "It's just NPG. Grian's sibling, I believe. I saw them help build this tower."

The other person- Doc, apparently- seemed to sneer at the concept, but there was intrigue in his eyes. Something sinister gleamed in the inky blackness, but there was also something playful about that look. "NPG, eh? You got some... interesting systems, huh. Are you part machine?"

NPG blinked. They couldn't stop their hands from drifting over their arms, partly shielding their metal body. "W-what is it to you..?" they spoke more defensively than intended, flaring up slightly at the insecure feeling. Doc must have noticed the behaviour, for his gaze softened slightly, his presence becoming warmer.

"It's nothing to me. And it's not a bad thing, really." He shrugged, and NPG relaxed slightly, leaning back against the door. "I was just curious, I suppose. After becoming a researcher in a government facility, I would suppose that it's only a natural response."

NPG nodded absentmindedly. There was a police station in EVO, they remembered. It was run by a group of extremely shady people. Even then, it was probably the closest they had ever gotten to maintaining a state of law and order in a server. They'd never done anything to get involved with them, so they didn't really know what it was like. Grian had told them to stay away, and they had quietly obeyed.

Now, in hermitcraft, the concept of order crossed them once again. But they'd done nothing wrong, as far as they were aware, so there was nothing to fear.

All of a sudden, a shadow casted itself upon his form. NPG jumped slightly in surprise, jerking his head up in the direction of the two strangers. The second person; the nameless man with the brown hair and hat, was looking down at them with a questioning glance; one that could be felt through the shades. He had the umbrella tilted downwards, shielding the space between himself and the doorframe. The rain dampened his clothing ever so slightly.

"What do you say, pal? Care to come along?" he smiled, speaking kindly. NPG had to pause; they hadn't been listening.

"S-sure..." NPG smiled sheepishly, nervously picking at the metal on their arm. What was the worst that could happen? They could be scrapped for spare parts, or their circuits could get messed up, or the machine could potentially combust. All things considered, the possibilities really were endless.

It took them a moment for them to realise that there was a hand outstretched, ready for them to take. They reached out and held it gently, determined to not let him wait any longer. As they stood up, the difference in height became uneasily apparent.

"Can you fly?" he asked. NPG shook their head, no. They were scared of heights.

"I can't afford to get wet." they told a blatant lie, but it seemed to work. Doc sighed heavily, putting away his umbrella and adorning his elytra instead.

"Scar, could you take them there? I'm gonna go ahead."

"Affirmative. Safe flight, Doc." Scar smiled in response, waving him off. As the figure disappeared into the distance, NPG felt uneasy. They knew, as their brother had often been warned by Mumbo and Iskall, not to fly in rainy weather, for harsh blights could easily throw an avid flyer completely off course. Maybe the drizzle was light enough for it to still be safe; they hoped it was, anyways. The downpour was still fairly heavy. When Scar turned back to NPG, his presence felt completely different; his shoulders were slumped, posture relaxed. If he felt familiar before, he was definitely recognisable now.

"Scar, right? Weren't you the one who built..." NPG paused to laugh, pointing up at the structure opposite Grian's tower. "...that?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. That's me." Scar laughed fondly, an affectionate feeling glazing over his eyes as he observed Scara and the fortress in the sky. "I thought you recognised me! Guess the outfit really does make a difference, huh."

What was the deal with the black suit? NPG let the situation slide, holding onto the other man's hand as he led him out into the wilderness. It seemed like something fun and inconsequential, and knowing who they were with brought about a sense of security. They had met Scar during the whole build off situation; they had already decided that he was a nice guy.

Over the tree line, an imposing structure quickly came into view, its silhouette obviously visible, even despite the layer of grey. NPG took a moment to gawk at the structure; it was bigger than Grian's base, bigger than EVO. It took them a moment to realise that they were headed closer to the structure, and before long, a huge fence came into sight. Forgetting about Scar, forgetting about the rain and supposedly being not resistant to water, NPG ran up to the barrier. The bars were tall; taller than they were, too. Beyond it, they could see the start of a road. And there were vehicles by the side, large and winged. They wondered for a moment if they had any functional use.

Scar caught up to them quickly, shielding their body with the umbrella. The drizzle was light, but he clearly didn't want to risk endangering the younger. "...what is this place?" NPG spoke softly, eyes wide and filled with wonder. It must have been a modern kind of build; this was no rustic house, nor a futuristic blender.

"Welcome to Area 77." Scar beamed proudly, and NPG paused. They had heard that name before; Grian had told them that it was dangerous, and to stay away. The men had stolen Grian's time machine, whatever that was, and Grian had been determined to get it back. From this close up, it was obvious that the facility was huge. Did Grian even know what he was up against?

"Area 77? Aren't they the bad guys?" NPG asked offhandedly, before feeling their heart sink, and anxiety rise. "Are you the bad guy..?"

Scar was surprised. "No, no. We're all friends, we're just having fun. Think of it like Civil War!" NPG remembered Civil War; Grian and Iskall had told them all about it, though the details felt somewhat hazy. "I thought you'd want to be more involved, so we decided to bring you here. There's no real conflict, and you're perfectly safe, alright?"

NPG heaved a sigh of relief. They didn't question it any further, fumbling forward to keep up with the taller man. There was a security system to the right, but the two slipped in easily through the bars. They took to gawking at the sheer scale of everything around them, already in the process of calculating the effort that must have gone into the resource gathering as well as the actual building. If NPG knew one thing, it was that swinging about a shovel or pickaxe looked exhausting.

The interior of the base was somehow larger than its exterior. "Don't touch anything," Scar warned gravely, and NPG made sure to keep their hands to themselves. The blaring lights encaptivated their eyes, and they tried to pry their gaze away from the ceiling. Slowly, they were led underground, to an area that seemed mostly unfinished. They tried their best to listen as Scar explained the design of the section, even as their attention wandered about freely, drifting towards the huge metal doors and absolutely massive expanse of space.

"Why did you bring me here?" NPG asked finally. "Aren't you afraid that I'm going to snitch?"

"You can snitch if you get out of here." Scar laughed, gently ruffling NPG's hair with a gentle hand. "You're a hostage now." The baffled expression on NPG's face must have caused some concern, though it was quelled within a moment's notice.

"Hostage? What's that?" they asked, earning another fond laugh from the guard.

"It means that you're our guest, I guess." A pause. He seemed to think. "Grian told me you like building rustic houses, correct?" A nod. "I've got some spare wood, how about you use one of the hangars and build something nice for me while you're here?"

NPG smiled, clearly surprised. "I can do that?" Just one look in the area was enough for them to know that they had an absolutely massive area to work in. Scar simply nodded, pointing out a mass of chests in the corner of the room, filled with piles upon piles of miscellaneous blocks and items that were bound to be of use. NPG walked over, immediately revelling in the options they had.

Scar laughed at the sheer excitement that the younger seemed to show. He bid them farewell, before walking out and locking the door. When Doc returned, he would probably run some tests over the specimen and observe their abilities to a small degree. Scar had already geared himself up to convince the mad and probably deranged scientist to not tear the sandy blonde apart. No sooner had he left the room than the communicator buzzed excitedly in his hands.

<Grian> Guys, has anyone seen NPG?

<Docm77> I'm afraid we've had to confiscate your sibling for research purposes. They will go alongside your time machine. You really should think before bringing something unknown and possibly dangerous to the server.

<Docm77> Though, we don't actually think that NPG's dangerous. I'm not sure why we brought them back tbh.

<Grian> what-

<Grian> WHAT?!

<Grian> YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS, AREA 77!

It was hysterical. Grian must be livid.

It wasn't too long before the time machine and the hostage both went missing with the appearance of a giant hole in the side of the compartment.

-

"All good things must come to an end."

"And all good things have a beginning."

"The end of one era is always the beginning of another. That is how the universe works."

The swirling purple lights had always brought about an uneasy feeling, no matter who it was that dared to peer into the other worldly abyss. To NPG, the near subtle movements of particles felt almost nauseating, and the lack of understanding was always a scary prospect. Behind the sheet of light was another dimension; a world beyond what they already knew. Behind it, there was change.

In EVO, the dark obsidian structure was always moulded in the shape of an insignia; the symbol of the Watchers. It acted as a bridge between the past and the present, and paved the way for the future. When they followed the path that it laid, there was no turning back. They would be forced into a whole new world, to learn new rules and make new memories. Out of everything that they had seen in the last year or so, it was this leap for change that had, quite ironically, stayed unchanged.

Still, something felt off. Different.

Anxiety bubbled lightly in their chest, a suspense lingering in the air for a moment too long. They gripped onto their brother's sleeve.

A large crowd had gathered at the world spawn, surrounding the mysterious portal. Immediately, they could tell that it was different; the presence alone felt more powerful. It was well decorated with runes and stones, but unlike the portals they remembered from their past, this one was complete. Unbroken. As though the future that lay ahead would be free of turmoil, free of strife. And the bonds they shared would not be broken.

"Season 6 was one heck of a journey." Xisuma, the admin, began, immediately grabbing the crowd's attention. "It was a time filled with chaos, and a time filled with mischief. But, all things considered, we had a good run, and we regret to leave it all behind. But we've stayed here far longer than we are used to, and it is time for us to leave. It is time for us to move forward. Beyond this portal, we find Season 7. I look forward to seeing what we are able to look back on, by the end of it."

Murmurs sounded all around them, but NPG looked on in silence. Were they about to leave this world behind? But they had already done so much! They couldn't fathom needing to scrape things together from the start, and rebuild something so grand from scratch. They tugged on Grian's sleeve, and Grian pulled them closer. It took a moment to notice, but Xisuma's gaze had been averted, now staring directly at NPG. His eyes quirked up slightly, undoubtedly reflecting the hints of a smile.

"Season 7 will also be a good time as any to formally welcome NPG into our little family. I'm aware that a lot of you are yet to meet, but maybe that will change by next year."

And it was true; out of all the hermits that had gathered, NPG could only recognise a few. A couple they had spoken to, and some they had seen pass them by. Now, all eyes were suddenly on them. They could feel their curiosity, the questions left unspoken. It was likely that a number of them had to look twice, questioning if they were seeing double; they were not. Beside Grian was someone who looked almost identical, save for the metal limbs. The thought made them feel self conscious.

Sensing the fear, Grian pulled them in, gently wrapping an arm around their neck to hug them from the side. Startled, NPG leaned in, clinging onto his jumper. "You do not need to be afraid," Grian smiled, warm and reassuring. "You are a hermit. These are your friends."

'Friends'.

NPG tried the word. It felt nice. They liked it; they liked being a friend.

The concept of change was a terrifying one indeed, but they minded it no longer. Uncertainty hung heavy in the air, but there was one constant, and it kept them safe; it was the knowledge that the hermits were now their friends, and they would stand by one another, no matter the cost.

That was it.

That was the difference between then and now.

-

"A lot has changed. But I'm not complaining."