As morning broke out over HermitCraft, and the sun began to shine dimly through the clouds and trees, Sage slumped against a tree and shoved his hands into his face.

player"Mumbo_Jumbo"Hand: Empty

Would that just stop? It was very distracting, his eye letting him know exactly what everything was at every point in time. Why was that even happening? Sage hadn't even given a slight thought to his eyes when he was changing Void's armor. A highly unwelcome change, in his opinion.

But, there'd be time for that later. There was something else more important that he needed to focus on.

Where was that cat? The entity could not find her for the life of him, and not for lack of trying. He had spent the entire night searching high and low for Citrus, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be found. Though he tried to push the thought away as best as he could, a little worm in the back of his mind anxiously wiggled with the thought that his friend might be dead.

No. No, no, no. That couldn't be true. Citrus couldn't die. She wouldn't. Not now. Not ever. But especially not now. Not when Sage still needed to apologize.

A ding brought Sage back to reality, sounding from his communicator. Had Void finally said something helpful?

XisumaVoid whispers to you: Hey can you pick up some chorus fruit while you're out, I need some more.

Sage groaned. Of course not. The faux-Hermit sent back a confirmation and mindlessly scrolled back through his message history with Void. Something told him that they were the only two awake.

XisumaVoid whispers to you: BTW when you need to delete the magic, you have to destroy the bow tie.
XisumaVoid whispers to you: It's the new magic source I suspect.
You whisper to XisumaVoid: yeah got it
You whisper to XisumaVoid: has Citrus come back by any chance
XisumaVoid whispers to you: No she hasn't. Sorry.
You whisper to XIsumaVoid: alright
You whisper to XisumaVoid: it's getting to be light out, any sign of her
XisumaVoid whispers to you: I've been down here working all night.
You whisper to XisumaVoid: ...
XisumaVoid whispers to you: Go to bed.
You whisper to XisumaVoid: yeah right nice try

There were several more messages after that, each having roughly the same response; 'No Citrus, and you should sleep.' That was highly unlikely; at this state, no matter how tired he was, Sage wasn't getting any sleep anytime soon.

Sage realized that he had begun to pace in front of the tree. Where could she be? She wasn't at the base. She wasn't in the Shopping District-- which was hard to search without drawing suspicion to himself. She wasn't at Scar's village thing with the snail, nor was she at his drill. She wasn't anywhere that Sage had checked. Sage had just been roaming around a forest near Mumbo's base, looking to see if she had gotten lost.

He really had run out of ideas.

But he couldn't give up. No. This was a fight he couldn't afford to lose. He had to make sure that his friend was okay. He couldn't lose another friend.

And not like this.

-----------------

Ren's POV-

Wow, it was such a beautiful day! The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky! Ren was just so happy to be up and enjoying this incredible morning!

Not. It was cloudy. And cold. And way too early for the dog man to be functioning. Actually, all he wanted to do was go back to curling up in his bed, but someone decided that right now was the perfect time to set everything up.

"I can hear you, you know," came a voice from the lizard man in front of him. Oh, right, he was saying all of that out loud. "Besides, you're the one who wanted to set all these traps. It-"

"Takes time to get things done correctly. Yes. I know. You've only said it eight times," Ren rolled his eyes, but still grinned. He was just being grumpy; Doc had practically dragged him out of bed that morning, causing him to mistakenly leave his beloved sunglasses at home.

Oh, but not to worry, he was still plenty cool without them. He was Ren, after all.

Once he got working, there was no doubt that he'd stop being disagreeable. It did not take much to please him. Doc, on the other hand, still seemed troubled by something or other. "So, where are we going again?" Ren asked.

"Right outside Town Hall, remember?" Doc turned around, folding his arms. "We've only been over this seven times," he said with dramatic exasperation. He raised an eyebrow. "Who's the one who needs sleep now?"

"Me!" Ren barked, and Doc burst out laughing, which in turn caused Ren to start as well. His tail wagged as he pulled on his elytra. "And now, while you're distracted, the great Rendog beats you to the Town Hall in record time!" He flashed a winning smile at the cyborg before bursting into the sky.

Of course, he was swiftly followed by his friend, and they made it to the outside of the hall pretty much simultaneously. Only one of them stuck the landing. Ouch. Swiftly, the two began to work. They had no clue when Bdubs and Impulse would arrive, and it would be awkward-- to say the least-- for the enemy to arrive while Doc and Ren were setting up traps for the one-hundred-percent, absolutely, positively, definitely fair fight.

A comfortable silence lasted for a little while until Doc spoke up. "So, by the way, how's RenBob been doing?"

Ren paused what he was doing for a moment, setting down the redstone to look up out of his hole. To be honest, Ren hadn't actually checked up on his hippie counterpart since the new season began. "Heh, I dunno," he admitted, shrugging. The Hermit turned back to his trap. "He's got all the flowers he wants now, so I'm sure he's fine."

That answer seemed to genuinely shock Doc. "You haven't contacted him at all? Ever? Was he upset with you leaving?" The cyborg's questions sounded suspiciously like accusations, but Ren supposed they were reasonable. Doc tended to worry about the little things.

"Nah, we're chill," was the honest answer. Ren placed one last piston before climbing out of the trap and covering it back up. "Why?"

Honestly, it was a bit sad how surprising it was that RenBob was perfectly fine. "I just- I dunno, man. How are you always so chill all the time?" The lizard man slumped forward, resting on the edge of his own hole, pouting up at Ren, who proceeded to chuckle.

"Heh, you got your synonyms mixed up, Doc," Ren's voice was slightly more serious than normal, though his level of seriousness was generally pretty low. "I'm always cool. Not chill." If only he had his sunglasses on his head, he could've flicked them down at that moment. Oh, if only. He'd just have to do with his natural charisma.

Doc seemed to contemplate Ren's words. Was he surprised at the distinct lack of bluntness? The world may never know. "...How?" He asked. "I've never-- not once!-- seen you to not be the chillest, most easy-going person here."

A small smile formed on the dog man's face. It was smaller than his cool person smile. "There's a reason for that."

Ren didn't always understand Doc. His friend seemed to always be stressed about something, be it a feud, a friend, or something else. The man had some serious lack-of-chill problems. Ren wasn't an idiot. He could tell when something was up with someone, he knew when there was a problem. Sometimes he might not understand the problem itself, but he wasn't oblivious to its existence. So, when he met this ball of pure pressure-- whenever that was-- he instantly knew that something had to be done about it.

After all, what's the point of living if you aren't enjoying it?

Maybe Ren wasn't as cool as he convinced himself, but he certainly wasn't boring. Besides, it wasn't like he was faking this chill attitude, he just knew when to double down to help a friend in need, whoever that may be.

Ren reached deep into the fluffy hair on his head and pulled out a pair of cool, black sunglasses. He always kept these on him in case of emergency.

-----------

Grumbot's POV-

Ugh... What was this feeling? It wasn't pain... but somehow, it was worse. Grumbot didn't want to move His limbs at all. As Grumbot emerged from His sleep mode-- against His will-- He began to feel something that He had never felt before. Fatigue? His vision cleared to reveal the room that He was in before. Iskall, who had seemingly been napping in a chair next to Grumbot's bed, peeked an eye open.

"Oh, Grumbot, you're awake," he exclaimed, jumping up. "It took you a bit longer than usual to get out of sleep mode, and I had gotten concerned." Ah, yes, Grumbot could tell. Iskall was clearly concerned during his nap. It was a shame that His sarcasm went unnoticed.

Grumbot had something to say. But what was it? His memory of everything before getting knocked out was foggy, but that was probably normal. It was a shame that His electronic memory seemed to work the same as a Hermit one. Wait, He remembered! How could He have possibly forgotten? The bot tried to sit up, but, well, no. Apparently, He would not.

Of course this was what Iskall noticed. "Ah, sore, I take it?"

"Unfortunately." Ah, so that's what it was called. What was the point of being made of metal if you still had to deal with fleshy Hermit problems?

"Heh, that's my fault, sorry," the cyborg chuckled apologetically. He smiled. He looked stupid. "I've done some heavy adjustments to your system, it might take a bit to wear off." Huh, Grumbot didn't notice anything different. Slowly, Grumbot sat up, much to the dismay of His computer head. Iskall opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a ding.

Renthedog suffocated in a wall

"...Okay," Iskall chuckled, glancing down at his communication device, but Grumbot simply sat, frozen in His spot. What was that? How did He know that? Grumbot didn't have one of those bracelets. He shouldn't have had any way of knowing what that ding just was. He didn't see anything, He didn't hear anything, yet, somehow He still knew it. "Oh... right." Grumbot was brought back to the real world by Iskall's voice. The cyborg had a mildly guilty expression on his face. "Probably should've told you. I synced up my communicator to your system. You can't talk yourself-- sorry 'bout that-- but it's easier than me having to track you down constantly."

Yes, that would've been nice for Iskall to mention earlier. Ah, well, at least he did now. But that wasn't important at the moment. No, Grumbot needed to get it all out.

And it seemed to be his lucky day, as Iskall cocked his head and asked, "Hey, Grum, you doin' alright? You seem.... spacey."

Here it goes. "No, actually." The bot's voice over time had grown less and less monotonous as He had learned how to add inflection to His speakers. Amazing.

Iskall was apparently not expecting that answer. He blinked. "W...what's wrong?" He sat down in his chair, staring at the robot expectantly. If Grumbot could take a deep breath like a person, that's when He would've.

"Iskall, there's something you should know." And then He explained. He explained it all.

He told His companion about when Mumbo first disappeared, and then when, suddenly, Grumbot couldn't seem to sense his whereabouts anymore. When Sage approached Him for the first time, with that awful, cunning glint in his eyes, asking Grumbot for His assistance, and Grumbot adamantly refusing. And when he came back time and time again, soon bringing a cat reminiscent of Scar's with him. No, no, no. Grumbot refused again, again, again.

With every word Grumbot said, Iskall's eyes widened more. The Hermit seemed to be hanging on Grumbot's story like a dog on a leash. And the most surprising part? There wasn't a single moment where Iskall's face wore any sign of disbelief. No, Iskall didn't doubt Grumbot in the slightest.

"And it doesn't stop there." Grumbot stood up, no longer feeling like lying down for eternity. It was a miracle was necessity did to one's self. "In on it, too, is-"

Wait. Something seemed... off. In the corner of His vision, far away, there was... something. And it was staring right at the two. Grumbot cut off abruptly, turning his attention to the mysterious visitor.

And who should it be but Citrus.

She was alone, and she hadn't yet noticed that Grumbot knew of her presence. Completely tuning out Iskall, the robot glanced around for something He could use. Anything, really. A trident? A bow? A bow would be wonderful. If only He had one. It would be great if He could just get a bow from somewhere.

As if the universe had heard the bot's internal plea, something shifted. A weight formed in Grumbot's hand. "Great diorite," Iskall muttered, staring at the bow and arrows that had just materialized out of nowhere. "...magic."

If Grumbot could smile, He'd be grinning like a madman. Wordlessly-- as He did most things-- Grumbot threw all but one arrow onto His bed. He pulled up the remaining arrow and situated it into His bow.

"Grumbot... what are you doing?" Grumbot turned back to Iskall. There was unmistakable worry in his voice. He hadn't noticed the cat, had he?

"I'm going to kill a cat." Silent as a mouse, the bot took a step into the doorway. Oh, little kitty, unaware kitty, standing on the shore of the Shopping District. The two met eye-to-pixelated-eye, and the cat's fur bristled. She began to back away.

And Grumbot let go.

The arrow went straight into her chest.

------------------

Citrus's POV-

Downcast, a small gray tabby trudged through the Shopping District. She was so drained. How long had she been out? Three days, maybe? Keeping track of time wasn't exactly her strong suit. The rising sun was the only way she could tell it was morning.

And all of that time was a complete, utter waste. Was nobody doing anything these days? Of course, she had stayed far away from Grian and Scar-- she valued her life, thank you very much. But what of anyone else? There was hardly anything interesting going on over at Stress's. There was little going on besides petty Hermit drama.

She just wanted to prove that what she had to say wasn't meaningless. Was that too much to ask? Her last interaction with Sage had replayed in her mind over and over. She had been mean; Sage was obviously stressed and the cat took what he said to heart. Maybe she was already a bit annoyed at Void to begin with. Citrus had let her emotions take over and hurt her friend.

Maybe she should just go back. She should go back and apologize. Perhaps the two people were right and she really didn't need to prove herself any longer. Maybe it was okay for her not to have something specific to do anymore.

It took a familiar voice for Citrus to notice that she had been walking near Grumbot's platform. No, Citrus, don't look. This didn't matter. But, of course, she did look. Old habits die hard, and anything that had to do with Grumbot was generally bad news. The tabby paused, her attention now on Grumbot, who was speaking to that Hermit named Iskall.

How lucky she was to have superior hearing. It would've been a shame to have to swim all the way over there. The cat stood as still as a statue as she listened in on their conversation.

It only took a moment for her to realize that Grumbot was telling Iskall everything. No. No, no, no! That was bad. But what was worse, was that He apparently could use commands now. How did she know that? Well, one moment Grumbot wasn't holding anything, and the next, He was fully loaded for archery.

And then He turned towards her.

Wait... what was He doing with that bow? A chill swept through the cat, and her fur stood straight up. He wouldn't dare attack her. No, there was no way. Still, she started backing up. Her heart began to beat quicker in her chest. What had gotten into Him? He wasn't putting the bow down. He wasn't putting the bow down. He wasn't putting the bow-

Citrus didn't have time to react before a sharp pain went right through her.

Well. Now she knew what it felt like to be shot.

But she wasn't dead. Her life flashed before her eyes, but she wasn't dead. That bow wasn't strong enough-- not if the game they lived in had anything to say about it.

Citrus ran.

A flurry of arrows followed.

The cat dodged left and right, jumped, ducked, but the robot still would not relent. How was He not running out of arrows? In her panicked state, she could only barely hear Iskall's frightened voice over her own heartbeat and breathing. Was he as shocked as her? Probably more. Citrus knew full well that Grumbot hated her, but she never imagined He'd actively try to kill her!

Finally, finally, the torrent of arrows ceased. He finally ran out. The cat, tired, drained, and on the brink of literal death, collapsed onto the ground. Everywhere she looked, there was an arrow that could've easily done her in. Of course, the second she decided to go home, that is when Grumbot decided that He no longer liked her being alive.

But He had failed. He failed to kill her. Citrus smiled. She wasn't going down without a fight. In the distance, a figure came barrelling down. Who was that? They were wearing all gray and white-- the cape was a nice touch-- but they looked like Sage. Did he have a wardrobe change, or was Citrus just delirious?

"Wh- Citrus?!" The figure let out a yelp as they ran toward her. Ah, yep, that was Sage. "Oh blazes in the Nether, what happened? Are you alright?"

Wincing slightly as the faux-Hermit lifted her up, then proceeding to take the extremely annoying arrow out, Citrus chuckled. "Ha, I'm fine," she said. It wasn't really a lie. "It'll... It'll take more than just an arrow to take me out." Oh. Maybe she shouldn't talk. That hurt.

Clearly, her attempts to calm her friend were futile, as he did not calm down in the slightest. "How long were you there? Who attacked you? Was it on purpose? Oh no, okay, okay, how-"

"Sage," the cat shoved out. "Shut up." What she wanted to tell him was not to blame himself, as he was so obviously doing. She very much wished to let him know that she was indeed alright; she wasn't dead, and so long as she wasn't dead, she could be fixed. Magic exists, after all. It wasn't Sage's fault she got shot. It was Grumbot's.

Sage's big eyes stared down at her, worry and guilt swimming in them. Oh, they're different colors now. How nice. "Sage, it's not... it's not your fault." Her voice cracked. What an awful time. Sage's arms tightened slightly around her.

"...Let's get you back, Citrus. I'll get you a healing potion," Sage spoke in a low voice. Her friend glanced slightly away, no longer meeting her eyes. "We're almost finished. Just stay home, alright?"

"Alright," Citrus agreed.

Something clicked.

Citrus didn't need to be a spy anymore. Her part of the project was finished; she could rest now. Maybe she didn't have a job anymore, but her purpose... her purpose wasn't to be a villain. It never was, was it? That was just her job. Her purpose was to help Sage. And if just being there was enough to make him happy, then that was enough. Citrus wasn't useless. She never was. 

Ever-so-softly, a purr began to resound in her throat. Had the cat ever genuinely purred before? Scratch that, had she ever even felt happy at all? Terrorizing that bird had always been the closest she had gotten to pure happiness, but it had always been so hollow. It was just satisfaction. This... this was much different.

This felt like she was actually okay.

This-

A chill swept through the cat. Her fur bristled. Her back claws unsheathed. What... It felt like there was a presence in the back of her mind. Citrus knew immediately what-- no, who-- it was. Grumbot. The silver communication device. The one that let Him speak directly to Sage or Citrus.

Or to Bee, but it wasn't like Sage knew.

Words resounded in the back of her mind. I hope you enjoyed your little reunion, cat. No. No, no, no, no, no... Citrus's eyes widened, her pupils shrinking to slits. Time slowed down around her. Suddenly, she had the realization that she was about to die. For real this time. Not now. Anytime but now. Not when she was finally happy.

Oh, Iskall and Grumbot's conversation! In the commotion, she had nearly forgotten. "Sage, Sa- Sage, I need to tell you something." She had to get this out. She ignored Sage's confused words, as her panicked voice rang out. "Sage, Iskall kno-"

There was a sharp pain in the back of her head and everything stopped.

-(Author's Rambling)-

I'm sorry.