Hermitcraft/Empires SMP/Third Life/Afterlife Randomness

A random au about grian

Grian was tired of running.

It was only a matter of time before he was discovered, only a matter of time before he was taken back to the End and trapped for another few hundred years.

He had to tell someone. But the someones he was thinking of were only his friends because he wanted them to be. They only knew him because of the memories he planted in their heads.

Grian was eternally guilty for that, but he had no other option.

Taurtis was an obvious option, though. He and Grian had been real friends for a while - they were closer than Grian was to any of the other Evolutionists. Grian had brought him here, after all.

But could Grian really trust him?

Surely Taurtis would turn his back if he knew Grian was a Watcher. Surely he would tell everyone, and Grian would be banned from his own world, and then he would be alone once again.

But he would never know if they were real friends if they didn't know the truth.

Grian sighed. This conflict had been going on inside him for over a month now. He should probably tell them, before it was too late and the truth was forced on them by the others. They would come for Grian soon enough. Grian knew they were there. But they were biding their time, waiting to see exactly how close Grian was to the Evolutionists. Then they would choose a sudden and dramatic moment to strike, like they always did.

Grian needed to tell them, and then go somewhere else. Even if it broke them. It was for their own good.

But where would I go?

Should I tell them?

------

Taurtis backed away from Grian, an expression of horror crossing his face before settling into calm anger.

"Take them away," he growled. "If you planted memories in my head, take them away."

Grian sadly nodded and lifted the memories. Taurtis gasped.

"You-you-" Taurtis sputtered. "You're one of them."

Grian felt tears coming to his eyes. "Taurtis, I didn't know any better then, but now-"

"We were only friends because you decided to make us friends?" Taurtis spat. "Go away, Watcher. I never want to see you again."

"Taurtis, please-"

Taurtis turned away. "I don't know you anymore."

------

Grian put his head in his hands. That had been an utter failure. He had hoped that Taurtis of all people world understand. But no, Grian was rejected again. And Taurtis would definitely tell the others. And that would be the end of it.

Grian slipped off the Admin wristband and put it on his nightstand. It was time to go. Someone else could take the role he had filled for so long, and they could be happy - and safe - without him. Because both he and the Watchers knew that if he didn't, they would die.

And as much as they probably hated him now, Grian didn't want them to die.

------

Grian strode through Evolution one last time. But unlike the last times, it was in flames.

The fire burned itself out, leaving a charred ghost town behind, as empty as his heart.

"We warned you this would happen," one of the Watchers said from behind him.

Grian turned with loathing in his eyes. "I hate you," he said, and ran.

He didn't know how long he ran. He just knew that he had to get away. Had to find somewhere else to go... somewhere else to run.

He was so tired of running.

Grian had used his powers to get far beyond the settled region of Evo before he finally slowed. His destination was the same as always: the rift between worlds. The Far Lands.

Hours stretched into days, weeks, months. And still, there was no sign of the Far Lands.

Grian was beginning to lose hope when he found them. The Far Lands were like a wall that stretched endlessly in either direction, with gigantic holes cut into them.

Grian entered one of the holes in the stone wall, hoping it led somewhere safer than here.

On second thought, he didn't care if it was safe. He just wanted to get away. To run.

He passed strange creatures and people: a man who looked like the legendary Steve but with pure white eyes, a being that was all void with a scar under one glowing green eye, an Evoker, a demon with red and purple horns, a man in a red suit and helmet. This was the land of the banished.

Did Grian belong here?

No, he answered himself. I haven't been banned from anywhere yet. I just indirectly destroy worlds.

When a group of mobs started to chase Grian, he broke into a run. He didn't want to fight. He just wanted to get to the end of this dang tunnel.

Suddenly, he ran into a wall - wait, not a wall. A person.

"Easy there," the man said, grabbing Grian's arm to steady them both. "What're you running from?"

Grian looked behind him, but he had outrun the zombies. They had never been fast.

"They're gone," Grian said, a little embarrassed that he had been running from a few zombies. "It doesn't matter now."

The man chuckled. It was hard to see him in the darkness, but Grian could see that he was tall, and wearing a suit and tie. He also had an impressive mustache that Grian instantly envied.

"Why the formal clothes? In case you didn't know, these are the Far Lands. It's dangerous here," Grian said.

The man shrugged. "What's with the red sweater? It's like a beacon to mobs."

Grian glared, but he wasn't very intimidating next to the stranger. "I may as well have been born with it."

"You're not a demon," the man realized.

"Took you a while," Grian said. "You're a spoon."

The mustached man grinned. "Everyone calls me that," he admitted. "Even though I think I'm considerable at redstone. I'm Mumbo. From Hermitcraft. Redstoner, spoon, whatever you want to call me."

Grian hesitated. He couldn't afford to make friends again, especially friends who would actually care about him if he left. He needed people who couldn't care less if he was gone. He also needed people who he didn't care about as much, even if it sounded cruel.

It dulled the pain when they were killed.

But friends... real friends, without their memories altered.

They never had to know. If they didn't know, it kept them safer.

Mentally screaming at himself for what he was about to get into, and what he would probably lose, he said, "I'm Grian."

Just your typical BREAD IS WATCHER AND HAS TRAGIC PAST story, but I got inspired so now it exists and I had to write it down, too late to turn back now

-Indigo