Hels Rebellion

Chapter 36: The Past (Part 1) Origins

[Authors note May 7, 2022]

THAT'S RIGHT!! Grian's backstory is, like, the whole reason I started this fic!!! Kinda funny I called it Grian-centric and then just popped him into prison the whole time xD but now we get some actual past info! I hope it's as fun for yall to read as it was for me to write! After this section of lore there will be more lore to come later! I've split it up so its not.... completely overwhelming

Also fun challenge: Count how many times I use passing out as a Dues Ex Machina transition to the next scene xD sorry Grian

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Grian was leaning back on the rounded bars of his prison cell. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable, but he could deal with it. The staleness of the bread he was eating was somehow worse than the ache in his back.

He knew his first time back to Hels would end up with him in a prison, though not quite to this extent.

He was aware Xelqua had converted many of the guest rooms, designed for the Helsians and visiting Players to stay at, into prisons. He missed staying in one of those rooms.

Guess this was what he "deserved" for trying to escape.

He scratched his neck, trying to get under the steel collar around his throat. He missed home. He missed the hermits. Hell, he missed living in this dimension!

A part of him had always hoped he'd be invited back to Hels with some of the hermits.

He'd show them around his old builds when he'd first spawned here. They'd get to meet his friends and see all the differences between the worlds!

But... he was always too scared to tell them the truth about himself. Not to mention that Xisuma might not like him sharing secrets.

He just wishes things could be easier.

The first time he had ever woken up, it was deep inside a Watcher tower. There had been a fight, that much was obvious from the wreckage. He had felt... oddly empty inside. Like a part of his very being had been stolen.

He opened his eyes slowly, using his arms to push himself up off his stomach. His sides ached and there was a sharp ringing in his ears.

He looked down at his wrist. There was a light there, a small glowing heart surrounded by golden braces on his wrist. It was green. He cocked his head at the sight, had that always been there?

The man turned his head, trying to take in the surroundings. There was the smell of smoke and blood. The cracked stone tiles around him smoldered at points and the building groaned both above and below him.

To the side, there was a man amongst the rubble. He didn't look familiar either. He was dressed in red armor.. at least, he hoped it was just red armor and not...

He shook his head trying to get the ringing out. Where am I? What happened?

He pushed further, trying to stand with shaky legs. There was a rock to his side, and put his hand on it, using it to lift himself up. His breath hitched and he nearly slipped again, catching himself.

He leaned on the rock for support. His body felt weak and trembly, like he had never walked his life. There was a feeling of static washing over him in pained waves. Like he was being pricked by a thousand tiny needles.