MumboJumbo was not having a good day. His orders were not where Grian said they'd be, and that could mean one of three things: Grian had not delivered them yet, he was being a spoon and looking in the wrong place, or they'd been intercepted. Sighing, and resigning himself to his fate, he gave up the search.

As soon as he got back to base, he heard Doc over the intercom (helpfully installed by Entropy, the local ethereal communications agent).

"News has reached me that we might have a mole on our hands. I'm calling a team-wide meeting. If you're not there, we will assume that you are the mole. Come to the war room."

Mumbo's blood ran cold. He made his way to the war room, at a pace that he thought would not seem too rushed, but he'd still get there on time. Entering, he noticed there was one other seat empty: Wels'. Around the table, he looked at the others.

Doc was holding a familiar book, and wearing an expression of mild annoyance. False looked disgruntled, and was holding one of her training swords: she'd been practicing her PvP. Impulse was holding too many fire charges for any kind of sane person, and shooting everyone assembled glares of suspicion.

X was carving a maze into the table with an arrow, no surprise there; he hadn't been okay since he took that plummet while fighting an invisible Grian. Ren was sat next to Doc, looking everyone up and down for suspicious actions.

"Well, it looks like Wels, then, since he was too nervous to show up, is our—" Doc began, before being interrupted by the door bursting open.

"I'M HERE, OKAY?" Wels staggered in, bear trap clamped on his armour. No explanation was given, and the armoured figure sat down awkwardly.

The meeting proceeded to wander aimlessly for an entire half hour where everyone, in doubt of those they trusted, hurled accusations at anyone and everyone. All the while, Doc refused to explain the book he was holding, why he was wearing gloves, or much in general.

"Look, Doc. The only reason why I think you're not the mole is the fact that you are in charge of the whole team." It seemed even Ren's patience was running thin. "You have been sitting here, holding a suspicious book, and trying not to get your fingerprints on it. If you were anyone else on the team, I would have chased you out by now."

"Fine, I'll tell you what this is. It's evidence. The title is 'Mole orders', and it's by none other than Major-General Grian himself." Doc bore a smirk on his face that tunnelled under Mumbo's skin, flooding him with guilt. He sincerely hoped it did not show. Thinking quickly, Mumbo piped up:

"It would be someone with a G in their name."

"And there's only two people like that." Impulse smirked along with his boss. "Rendog, And Welsknight."

"And one of the two certainly has been acting off." False clearly was buying into this lie, and Mumbo breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Vanishing during battles, showing up late to meetings, walking around with random bear traps."

"Welsknight." Ren said, picking up what the others were putting down.

"Me? No. It's obviously Mumbo. He was so eager to tell you that only someone with a G in their name, it rubbed off as suspicious!" Wels was sweating, nervous at how quick his teammates were to turn on him.

"Yeah, right. The only suspicious thing is how quick you are to shift the blame!" Doc's smirk turned into a full-out grin. "And I know how to prove it wasn't our friend Mumbo: he'll deliver your punishment!"

Wels was obviously trying his best not to lose his cool, as he spoke in an unusually high-pitched voice: "And what is my punishment?"

Doc kept grinning as he locked eyes with the two hermits at the end of the table in turn.

"Why, the death sentence, of course!"

Yeah, yeah, Time Skip, whatever. Sorry, the gems on one of my bracelets is freaking out. Oh, and major violence ahead. You have been warned.

Wels knelt before his executioner, wearing strong iron chains. Mumbo was holding a sword of iron, the strongest material allowed. Doc watched from a distance, ensuring Mumbo did his job. Traitors had to be punished.

"Are... are you sure about this? False is better than me at PvP."

"I'm sure, now get ready."

Taking a deep breath, Mumbo raised the sword above his head. Whispering an apology, he brought down the blade upon the innocent man's head, with the full intent of missing. The greatest failure is failure at failure, and this is what Mumbo did. Wels screamed in pain, his breaths going ragged as the blood drained from him.

He went a deathly pale, as he found his kneeling legs would not support him. Coordination failed, his eyes and ears ticking out of sync. His heartbeat echoed in his head, rough and irregular. Finally, consciousness abandoned him, death welcoming him as he released his final, blood-soaked breath.

Welsknight was slain by MumboJumbo using STAR Excecution Knife

Mumbo stepped back in shock. He'd killed someone. Someone would have to kill him if he got caught. Tears of horror streamed down his face, he could not move. He was stuck staring at the body of his friend, whom he had killed. Hands covering his mouth, Mumbo was forced to take in every detail of the horror before him.

Streams of blood poured out of Wels' lifeless mouth, his eyes were glassy and beginning to cloud over. A weak smile still played on the innocent victim's face, right up to the end. The sword, still embedded in the hapless corpse's head, was slowly sliding out, stained crimson. Retching, Mumbo came to his senses, and ran.

And in another dimension, a sandy-coloured gem on a red-sleeved wrist turned to stone. The owner declared another Time Skip, realising what had happened.

Mumbo gazed at the tombstone before him.

Welsknight

Old friend, found traitor

Executed for his injustice.

Yet may his soul rest in peace still.

He was utterly torn up. The first death of this brutal war stained his lying fingers, no matter how hard he scrubbed. Maybe if he had come clean, this wouldn't have happened. So many things could have gone differently, and yet here he was. A murderer. He had carved the last line of the epitaph himself, in memory of the one who had been struck down by his own sword.

MumboJumbo was not having a good day.

Like I said, I will kill if I must. I just felt I had to reinforce that after the Phantom Grian Arc. I don't believe in retcons, either. But undead... now that's an idea.

This story was 1093 words to kill one person. I don't think I'll do it all that much.

This has been Pi, and I'll see you all at some point in the future!