season 7 hermitcraft cat doodles- i realized I posted a cat grian… and never followed it up with anything soo here’s the follow up! I dont have much but here it is xD
Some random headcanons for Grian!
I imagine hes genderfluid but likes to stick to masculine pronouns and terms.
If you ever need gender affirming surgery (or some really cool robot arms) just go to Doc!
“I feel like… you may need to explain some things to me, Grian. You ran off in such a hurry and—I-I’m starting to think..” Mumbo trailed off, “I might have jumped to conclusions.”
A small chuckle leaves the angel, soft and sweet. He looks out to the void, a small smile creeps across its lips. “You have so many questions. I’ve always liked that about you.”
Mumbo hesitated for a moment, his voice spoke softly. “You… You’re not Grian, are you?”
[Commission by d0_n0t_disturbb] [song for this chapter] [alt song]
Grian ran as fast as he could.
He never stopped. Never did he rest until he made it all the way back home. His legs began to ache, his lungs were on fire. Opening his front door he slammed it firmly behind him. Grian’s back rested against the door as he slowly slid down it, hugging his knees.
He couldn’t help the small sob leaving him. How on earth did he manage to let it get this bad? How did he not see the signs? He should have stayed with Mumbo, he shouldn’t have avoided him for weeks on end. But isn’t that what he was doing now? He just left Mumbo alone to fend for himself, leaving him with more questions than answers.
God, he just hoped Mumbo didn’t think he hated him. He wanted nothing more to help, but how could he?
Grian lifted his hands, staring at his fingers. His clawed hands seemed to blur through the tears. Yet, for a moment, just for a moment, he could see his fingers fizzle into pixels.
No matter what he did or didn’t do, it was only getting worse. He couldn’t stop it. He never could. He would answer for his transgressions. And the worst part is that he's come so far. If he were to run away now, all this work would have been for nothing.
It could have been minutes, or maybe hours. Grian sat in silence, taking a moment to breathe. For now, he just needed to be alone.
A soft familiar glow emanated in front of him.
Grian whispered. “I… I want you gone. I don’t care what happens anymore, just… Just leave.”
His home remains still,
“If that's what you want, Grian.”
and quiet.
Season 6, a week before the end of the season.
Grian stumbled, his landing shaky. His wings were barely used, and the way he flew was practically like a baby bird. Grian knew it would have made it a lot easier to get around, but why would he use a gift the Watchers have given him? If anything, they were just a physical reminder of what he had done—the damage he caused. It made him feel better to use them as little as possible.
Luckily for Grian, he felt a brief respite. This world sure had death, but the people inside were immortal. For a moment, just for a moment, Grian forgot what it was to lose someone permanently. This world allowed him to indulge in his creativity without punishment. Allowed him to build bonds without fear of breaking them.
Reaching behind himself, Grian grabbed the tips of his wings. He slid them back between the slits of his sweater and made sure to keep them concealed as best as he could, then he kicked the dirt from his boots.
Xisuma had cordially invited Grian to his base which was luckily right by his own; It was just a short fly over the ocean. It was a picture of perfect vibrant blue, and the air held a humid warmth. It was the middle of Summer, though Grian didn’t know if there were such things as time or calendars. They seemed to be just vague concepts here. When no one ages, why would you need to track time?
“What even is ‘the end of a season’?” Grian mumbled to himself, tapping his heel onto the ground.
“That's a good question, Grian! And a reasonable one.”
“GAH!” Grian yelped. He almost falls over as a reaction.
“Oh! My bad, wasn’t trying to scare you!” Xisuma let out a chuckle, “My base is pretty big so I wanted to lead you around. You ok?” He lifted his armored hand, holding it out.
“Yeah! I'm fine!” A small chuckle left Grian, clasping his hand around the other and giving it a firm shake.
The two began to make their way inside of the large pyramid structure. Strangely, despite its large design, it was able to keep itself floating on the water. Grian wondered what determined what made a block able to float in the air and which had to obey the rules of gravity. Though if he asked, he probably wouldn’t get a straight answer.
It was game logic, wasn’t it?
Xisuma's hands were placed behind his back, his footsteps sauntering. “So basically, us Hermits throw this big event called ‘the end of a season.’ With a world with infinite resources and unlimited creativity, it kind of gets cramped, yes?”
“Well, now that you mention it..” Grian hummed, recalling how restless the Hermits have been seeming lately. They created a whole golf course, they had a huge civic prank war, they even made a minigame district. He was inclined to agree that it felt like they were growing too big for their home.
“This isn’t our first season you know, there have been many times we have outgrown our homes. Soon after, a portal appears. We all decide to leave our things behind and go see what's new for us.”
The two stop for a moment, standing over one of the bridges that connected Xisuma's base together. The sun was held high in the sky, no clouds in sight.
Xisuma continued, “You know Grian, I have the inkling you know this feeling.”
What? Being cramped inside of a box so tight that you had to escape? Desperate to see what the world had to offer, to see if you had a higher purpose? To escape home and to start a new life where no one knew your name? No. No, Grian had no clue what Xisuma was going on about. A nervous chuckle escaped him.
“You didn’t find Hermitcraft by accident, did you? Where were you before here?” A small curious hum escaped Xisuma, turning his head to look at Grian.
Grian hesitated. “I… Before I came here, I was in an endless void. I wandered for hours until,” He trailed off, watching as the waves crashed into the bridge. “Until I ended up here.”
It had been years at that point, so long that the void felt like a dream. Those moments were so blurry, he could barely recall them. All he could remember was how safe he felt once he entered the Server.
“Well I think you were brought here for a reason, Grian.” Xisuma kept trekking on with Grian not too far behind. They were both led into a large main room, a large screen sat on one of the walls with redstone wiring hooked directly into it. Steam and hisses emitted from the large machine, struggling to maintain itself. This must have been some sort of makeshift computer, though it was a bit rudimentary.
“Xisuma, uh, what would you call that?”
“Hm?”
“That, uhm... big device, up on the wall.”
“What? Oh, this thing?” Xisuma shuffled around, placing his hands on his hips as he looked up. “That's my redstone input device. It's high tech! Don't you think?”
“Oh, so it's like a computer?” Grian hummed. Xisuma returned a confused expression, making Grian mumble, “Erm, never mind! Don’t listen to me.”
In the center of the room laid a large, white, circular table. Xisuma rolled out a large map on top of it. He spread it with his hands to fold out the corners. Using his index finger, Xisuma begins to point at parts of the map.
“Here, at spawn, we should have a mycelium biome. Monsters can't spawn in there, so it would be a lot safer to start off with. That way we could build our shops without issue,”
Grian watches with interest, his brows furrowed. Xisuma continued rambling about certain biomes in the distance. He explained that exactly every single one expanded into different islands in the ocean. It makes sense, but what is Xisuma exactly getting at?
“You think you can do it?” Xisuma perks up, a smile on his face.
“What? ME? Like—you want me to find something like this?” Grian takes a step back for a moment, his eyes back on the map. It's been so long he’s not even sure if he could get back to the void.
“You found Hermitcraft, did you not?” Xisuma straightened his posture.
Grian opens his mouth to speak once again, but instead a sigh leaves him. He looks back down at the map. Xisuma was right, technically.
“Fine.. I’ll see what I can do.” Grian affirms.
Xisuma begins typing something in the communicator on his arm, the keys clicking and lighting up as he does, “Alright, I've got to check on one of my farms.. Think you will be ok here for now?”
“Of course!” Grian’s lips pulled back, forcing a smile. Though it quickly dropped as soon as Xisuma made his exit.
Reaching over to the map, Grian rolled it into itself. For a moment, he faltered. How on earth was he even supposed to get back to the void? It had been so long since he used any of his powers, he wasn’t even sure if he could.
The void seemed so far away in memory and distance. Despite the seemingly impossible, its presence was clear in Grian’s mind. He closed his eyes as he tried to put the pieces of his fuzzy memories together. Stars, glittering and gleaming. The worlds inside of them are filled with hope and creativity. How heavy his feet dragged for miles as he searched for the perfect home.
He has to imagine the false feeling of a floor beneath his feet carrying him above the countless universes. Hold yourself high, Grian’s mind whispered, Be above all and see all that is meant to be.
Opening them, Grian was met with a familiar dark emptiness. A sharp gasp escaped him, his eyes widening. The lack of light jarring. In the distance, flickering lights twinkled. It seemed that the thought alone brought him here… though, if he was being honest, he didn’t think that would work, either. Turning around showed a familiar crystal, much larger now than what was. Was this Hermitcraft?
Hesitantly, Grian placed his palm onto the surface, and it gave a low buzz in response. The air around him felt like static. Pulling his hand away, sparks followed. Looking through the surface revealed Xisuma walking over to one of his farms.
Grian’s index finger tapped against the crystal, swiping across it. The view now stopped on Mumbo, who was now looking at his base with confusion. It seems he was having trouble with the sudden appearance of a lot of chickens. Mumbo hunched over, desperately calling the chicks over and trying to grab them. A small giggle left Grian.
After taking in the environment, Grian began to trudge himself through the thick air. The space now felt different—colder, lighter. Grian lifted his legs, making a mental note of how it felt. Last time he walked it felt as though it was through a sandy dune, but now it was like walking in a deep pool of water.
Grian pulled open the map, straightening it out for reference. It would honestly take ages looking through each individual star, who knows when he would find another perfect world again. Walking through the waded air, Grian noticed that the stars began to shift. They all moved from their spots, until there was a definite line formed. Grian’s brows scrunched.
He began his investigation, curiously inspecting each one of the stars. One in particular intrigued him, pulling it closer as he tilted his head. A few unfamiliar faces appeared and the world was dark.
‘Is it just me or is the moon big?’ Grian hummed. It reminded him of a game he played once long ago. What was it again? Frustration began to hit him as the name slipped his mind. He wondered if games like that were being made anymore. Honestly, he wished he knew.
Continuing down the path, a star gleamed brightly, almost calling out to him. It looked to be exactly what they needed, biomes and all. Looking up, Grian gazed at the other stars that now laid far away. He wondered how many other worlds there must have been.
Reaching out to the star it shrank in size small enough to hold in the palm of his hand. Peering into it, Grian watched himself and Scar talking. It seemed to be going well for a moment, before they ultimately shuffled awkwardly away. A small sigh left Grian. He knew it was going to be hard to reconnect with Scar after what happened, especially since he knew Scar wasn’t his own to begin with. Scar had different memories, different aspirations… yet there was still some need for connection. Grian desperately wanted to at least reconvene with him. Maybe one day he could tell him what happened.
The gem in Grian’s hand began twinkling with a sudden brilliant glow. Slowly, that brightness enveloped him, leaving him back in the Hermitcraft server. Grian’s eyes squinted at the sudden adjustment, groaning as he wiped his face.
Clatterings of armor echoed through the halls as Xisuma made his way back. “Did you figure it out?” His footsteps came to a halt, “Oh gosh, you alright?”
“Yeah! Yeah, no. I’m fine.” Grian grumbled as he stood up, still wiping his eyes. He held up the gem for the other to see. It glittered in the sun, “Here, is this what you needed?”
Xisuma leans in a bit, inspecting each facet for a moment before giving a pleased expression, “Yep! That's exactly what we were looking for.”
“So… What do we do with it?” Grian raised a brow.
“Oh, don’t you worry, me and Doc will figure that part out.”
Season 10, a week before the end of the season.
Left at his door step, Mumbo couldn’t help but idle mindlessly. Everything was going so well, now it felt as though he let everything slip through his fingers. All of that trust, all of the effort he went through. Was it for nothing?
No. No, Grian just needed a moment. There was no way he wouldn’t come back. He wouldn’t just leave Mumbo here again, Grian wouldn’t leave him to just figure it out all on his own.
Right?
This thoughtless idle made his legs begin to ache. Now that he had the time to think about it, his whole body was aching. He must have exerted all of his energy. Mumbo's brows pinch. When was the last time he slept? He honestly couldn’t remember. It must have been days ago. Sluggishly Mumbo’s legs began to move, it felt as though he was dragging through water.
Lethargic, the word came to him. He felt lethargic.
Stumbling through his home, he rested his hand against the wall for support. Mumbo attempted to comfort himself, ‘Sleep. I just need some rest.’ he repeated in his mind over and over as he trekked forward. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep going like this. Tears welled in his eyes. He was supposed to be better now, yet he just felt as sick as before. Though this time it wasn’t from the illness, he was sure of it.
He opened his bedroom door, left with the mess of papers on his ground–an empty spot where Grian was supposed to be. The room felt so cold without his warmth.
Couldn’t Grian have at least stayed for a moment? Listened? Explained himself? Was it wrong that he was starting to become frustrated with this cycle? No matter how hard Mumbo tried, it felt as though he kept driving Grian to run away. Mumbo's anger quickly twisted back into guilt.
Mumbo’s feet dragged across the floor, his eyelids drooping. Ever so slowly, he climbed onto the soft safety of his bed-sheets. His body felt like cement, he could barely move. A small sigh escaped him as he was able to finally rest.
Rest… I just need some rest, Mumbo repeated to himself as he felt his eyelids flutter shut.
For a moment, he would rest his eyes. Then, when he wakes up he would figure out what to do from there. Even despite Grian running away, he knew they would be able to mend their relationship. Though he was sure Grian wouldn’t want him chasing him again, especially after everything he did. This cycle was starting to become tiring.
Mumbo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, his head was starting to hurt now. Opening his eyes, he was left with nothing but darkness. Wait. Was he asleep?
Using his elbows, he pried himself from the bed, looking out seeing nothing but a sea of emptiness. This felt familiar at least. His dreams had been left with nothing but dark for the past few days. Or was it weeks? Everything was starting to blend together. Peering over the edge of his bed, it seemed like you would fall for miles. A small whimper escaped Mumbo; one wrong move and he could slip into it.
The only thing that broke him out of the thought was a small sniffle echoing through the darkness. Mumbo snapped up, his eyes fixated on a familiar figure.
It was hunched over, sitting in the middle of the floor as he looked into the distance. Hugging its knees, its wings spread wide to hide itself. The angel lifts his hand and waves it into the air, a mirage forming out of the stars. It seemed to be reminiscing, a soft expression on its face.
Mumbo looks up to see Grian sitting in some alien location. None of it seemed familiar. Bright white walls and luminescent lights held above. Grian was surrounded by a grey box and sitting in front of a box-like device… Wait. A computer! Mumbo remembered Grian talking to him about it once. Something about a job he used to do?
Behind Grian, the angel stood overlooking his shoulder. He pointed at the computer screen as Grian typed. Perhaps it was giving him suggestions. The two smiled and spoke to each other before the angel waved his hand in the air, making the vision fade away. A small huff left him.
Mumbo returned his gaze to the floor below, or rather the lack thereof. He swallowed the lump of anxiety in his throat, sliding his feet off the side of the bed. Hesitantly, he planted them onto the cold floor. The surface was wet and standing up made his legs shake. Looking down he noticed the floor dipped a bit, the surface tension reminding him of water.
With wobbly legs and arms outstretched, Mumbo managed to balance his way to the lightened figure. His nose scrunched as he desperately tried to not look at the nothingness below. Eventually, he landed next to the angel. Mumbo bounced on the floor as he sat beside him.
The angel snapped its view to Mumbo, its eyes opening wide in surprise. It didn’t expect to see him in this place so quickly, much less at all. Midas looked over at the bed with uncertainty before shaking it off. Inside the void they remained silent, but they sat comfortably. Mumbo shuffled around, adjusting his posture.
“I feel like… you may need to explain some things to me, Grian. You ran off in such a hurry and—I-I’m starting to think..” Mumbo trailed off, “I might have jumped to conclusions.”
A small chuckle leaves the angel, soft and sweet. He looks out to the void, a small smile creeps across its lips. “You have so many questions. I’ve always liked that about you. So curious. You always want to understand everything from the inside out.”
Mumbo hesitated for a moment, his voice spoke softly. “You… You’re not Grian, are you?”
The angel perked up at the voice, turning his head to meet the others. His expression twists from a tender gaze into something melancholic. “I was… once.” Placing his head on his hand he continued to look out into the vast night sky, “We used to be so close but now... Now, I'm pretty sure he hates me.”
There was a bit of awkward silence, Mumbo fidgeting a bit as he struggled to find the right words. “He's a bit tricky, isn’t he?” A small smile tugged on his lips as he peeked over at the angel. A chuckle left him. “Sometimes I worry about the same thing.” .
Mumbo leaned in a bit, curiously looking the creature over. Its hair fell over his nose, just a bit longer than Grian’s. Now that he had a better look, the differences began to stand out. They were like similar ideas yet disconnected.
“My name.. is Midas,” The angel looks over, his hair drifting softly as if it wasn’t affected by gravity. His brows pinched, looking almost ashamed of the name. “at least, that’s what they call me… I’m Grian’s desires.”
Mumbo whispers the name to himself, taking a mental note. He feels like the name is faintly familiar, but he can’t quite place it. Maybe he heard it in a story before?
Wait. His desires?
Midas couldn’t meet Mumbo’s eyes, “I’m... I'm so sorry for not explaining earlier. There's so many things I know that I just don’t know how to say them…” His words trail off, “But you deserve an explanation.” Standing up, Midas outstretched his palm to Mumbo.
Their fingers interlocked. Midas’s hand was that of static, a warmth emanating from him. Every aspect of him was comforting, maybe even familiar. Lifting Mumbo up, the two walked through the empty void. As Midas grabbed hold and held Mumbo’s hand, he guided him through the stars without pause. Looking down did Mumbo notice now that he was holding onto Midas, each step seemed to glow beneath them. The “floor” beneath their feet rippled with each step.
“Your world, in a way, could be described as a story. When a story is written, it's to feed our emotions, helps us to feel something. Words can be added to a page, I can even write other stories, but this one has to play out… The story has to come to an end.” Midas voice became quiet, “You could even call it fate..”
Mumbo was left wordless, his grip tightening on the other’s hand, squeezing it. There was a twinge of fear sitting deep within his chest. Mumbo’s nose scrunched as he started putting the pieces together.
“You’re saying,” A shaky exhale left Mumbo, “Midas, am I meant to die?”
Midas couldn’t answer. There was hesitation, silence crawling its way back.
“Every action, every little thing has led you to this moment. And I know it may seem scary, but something extraordinary is about to take place.” Midas’s view is certain, unwavering. Knowing. The being turns around and fixes his hold on Mumbo. Mumbo falters as Midas places both of their hands together, now both hands interlock. “Everything I've given you. It's come true, right?”
Mumbo gives a small nod.
“Then, do you trust me…?”
Mumbo’s brows furrowed, an uncertain look on his face before nodding again. Midas lets go of one of his hands and stands beside him. The two trek along the path of stars, glancing at each one. There were so many different stories being told, Mumbo watched each one with interest. His head cocked to the side as he saw worlds that never thought to be possible. He stopped at one in particular, gazing into it. Was he a huge computer in this one?
The two end at a star that was much larger than the others. It towered over them, the light emanating from it overwhelmed them. Mumbo gazed into the crystal, looking as he saw a reflection of a much younger version of himself.
“This is when I first joined Hermitcraft! That was so long ago… It somehow it feels like I'm reliving it.” Mumbo's tail began to sway. He leaned closer and saw himself talking to Xisuma about spawn. Looks like they were discussing how to decorate. He placed his palms against the flat surface of the crystal.
“Every world is happening all at once. You’re experiencing it right now.” Midas peeked over Mumbo’s shoulder, watching curiously as the Hermits conversed.
Looking out to the sea of stars, Mumbo couldn’t fathom seeing how vast it really is. It was a wonder as to how someone like Midas wouldn’t be lost in a vast void. Then again, with how easily it was able to guide him through to this star, he guesses that the being was familiar with this area as whole.
“Does that mean that there's more? Other Hermitcrafts? One where I'm not sick? One where Grian and I..” The star glows on his fingertips. It becomes brighter, and brighter—
Midas grabs hold of Mumbo’s shoulders, prying him away. It’s uncharacteristically frightened, soft hands that almost attempted to ground him. “I'd be careful if I were you! Those things are really tricky to work with. Only watchers can really control them, it barely worked when Grian tried to! I can’t imagine what would happen if a mortal were to mess with it.” Midas holds Mumbo close, from behind. “In all honesty, you shouldn’t even be in the void.”
“Wh—hold on,” Mumbo lifted his arm, trying to get a good look at the angel, “Grian Isn’t a Watcher?”
“Well, he was supposed to be! B-But… Uhm...” Midas's brows creased. “Something happened. I can't quite remember..”
“Midas..” Mumbo's tone shifted to a more pleading one, “Please, I need you to be honest with me.”
“I promise, I am! That was my whole purpose! I was supposed to make Grian into a watcher, but,” Midas’s grip got tighter, hugging Mumbo. “He doesn't even want to talk to me anymore. I’ve been trying to reason with him. It's like part of my memory has been locked away. I’ve tried asking what he remembers, but he doesn’t want to remember. He doesn't even want to,” Midas makes a vague gesture, “Want.” A small frustrated huff left Midas.He pulled away from Mumbo and looked into his golden eyes.
“At least you listen to me... You actually enjoy the gifts I give you, even if they don’t go according to plan.” Midas’s expression turns sheepish, crossing his arms.
It was a bit jarring to see Grian like this, so vulnerable and honest. Open yet shy. Midas was a walking contradiction. Mumbo couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered—or even a bit intrusive. It was like he was seeing a side of Grian that no one was allowed to see, not even himself. It was a private show, just for Mumbo. A small amused hum left him. “I won't lie, I didn’t expect to turn into a fruit bat. Weren’t you supposed to turn me into a vampire?” His tail began to sway side to side.
“Hey! It’s not my fault—It wasn’t supposed to happen like that!” Midas's nose scrunched as It playfully nudged Mumbo, making him chuckle.
There was a time once where Grian was like this, happy and carefree. Knowing what Mumbo does now, it must have taken a long time for Grian to get there. He remembered how isolated Grian seemed when he first arrived, and how fast he warmed up. Midas’s warmth reminded him of what Grian could be, the dark void being a violent reminder of how cold Grian had become.
Returning his view to the vast night sky, Mumbo couldn’t help but wonder. His feet shimmied slightly. Mumbo's voice was soft. “Midas, you said that only Watchers could control these, yes? And there's a world out there where we're happy.” Mumbo extended his hand, their fingers interlocking. Midas’s hand seemed to phase into his own, “How does one become a watcher..?”
Midas watched him for a moment, his eyes locked and unwavering. “It's… a bit hazy,” Midas’s brows furrowed as he began to recall, “When you make a deal, your soul becomes shattered like a piece of glass. You become broken and eventually need to recollect those pieces.”
A chill ran up Mumbo’s spine, letting out a shaky exhale. Was he willing to risk that?
“But you—you’re different. Somehow you’re here. Mortals shouldn’t even be able to traverse through the night sky. Mortals shouldn’t even be able to see me, much less talk to me.”Midas’s hand squeezed Mumbo’s as he began to think outloud. “Since our souls became one, maybe you wouldn’t need to shatter… Instead of Grian, maybe I could become part of you. You’ve already been using me this entire time..”
Midas held Mumbo closer.
“We made a deal.” Midas affirmed, “I've given you anything you wanted and more. You just have to tell me what you desire.”
“What I desire..?” Mumbo repeated with a whisper.
He wanted nothing more than for Grian to come back, to make amends. He wanted nothing more than to be free of this illness. If he understood Midas correctly, he would be able to kill two birds with one stone. Mumbo would be a Watcher instead of Grian.
Grian would be free of his chains, and Mumbo would become immortal.
If he wasn’t destined for anything greater than death, why wouldn’t he take the risk? Grian was all he could ever really want, more than life itself. And if death was inevitable, why not have a bit of fun? Why not aim higher? Instead of immortality, he would ascend godhood.
Mumbo leaned in closer, their noses almost brushing against each other. Every movement drew Midas closer, their hands faded into one. Mumbo’s lips twisted into a smile as he dipped Midas, almost in a dance.
“Make me a god.”
Grian had sat long enough. He wiped his face of dried tears as a shaky sigh left him. There was only so much time to sit and reminisce on things that once was, to mourn what peace he had. If he waited too long, he would lose everything completely. Grian’s fingers trailed up his face into his hair, holding his head in his palm. He needed to just take a moment to assess the situation:
Mumbo was definitely not going to get better, but leaving him was out of the question. He was relying on him now. His blood was Mumbo's lifeline, and to avoid him would be the same as killing him. If Grian asked help from the others, would they too be brought into all of this? He gauged his options. Either he kept at this alone and Mumbo dies in the process, or Grian reached out to other Hermits and possibly end up hurting them as well.
God, why did everything have to be so complicated?
Grian’s tail began to whip back and forth in annoyance. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the note Gem made for him. She was good at this world's magic, wasn’t she? Maybe she would be able to figure out what to do from there.
Grian’s wrist flicked instinctively to create a rift. He tossed the note into the open and watched it flutter to the ground. Opening his palm, sparks of electricity glittered into the air with a fizzle.
His brows pinched. Leaning down, Grian grabbed hold of the note, attempting once again to make a rift. Where on earth was his inventory? Why wasn’t it working? No, no, this can’t be happening right now! Grian stood up in a panic, thousands of questions ran through his mind.
Did Midas disappear? Did he take away his ability to access his inventory? He didn’t have time for this! Grian began to move without thought, pulling open his front door—not even making an attempt to close it.
Grian’s feet thumped against the pavement, his boots kicking up a dust path behind him. He struggled for breath, lungs begging for air. Grian had already ran so much, the only thing keeping him going was adrenaline. His whole body felt numb. No time to think, no time to feel, he had to act. He had to do it soon or everything he worked so hard for would slip through his fingertips.
Slamming his body onto the veterinary clinic door, it shoved open and allowed him to stumble inside. His eyes met with Scar’s; Grian’s eyes widened in fear. He was moving off of pure instinct, he didn’t even stop to think about what he would say or what he would do once he saw Scar. Grian stammered, his head becoming light.
“Grian?!” Scar shoved himself up from his seat.
Grian called out his name, his vision beginning to blend and blur together. What was this feeling? Slowly, the world began to fall. The room turned over onto its side, and Grian landed onto the ground with a thump. His body relaxed onto the ground with a shaky sigh, and his view began to fizzle out into black.
The floor had never been more comforting. Despite the muffled shouts and yelling, Grian slipped into a comfortable slumber.
