Scar's eyes glow cyan from under the contact lenses, forming a drop shadow or outline around them instead. An invisible force feels like it's wrapping its long jagged claws around Grian's neck, tightening its hold to close his oesophagus from the outside. Despite there's nothing choking him, his ragged gasps and wheezes say otherwise as oxygen refuses to enter his lungs. His heart constricts the longer he's been controlled, everything begins to blur with unshed tears.

  He's supposed to have his emotions under control. He's supposed to hide what he truly feels from the world since he's been successful all this time. He’s managed to pretend to be a tree for an hour with Mumbo and Tango to scare Cub and Scar, having a good laugh in the end. He's managed to hold a Boatem meeting and explode each other with eggs and End crystals.

  He's managed to survive helping Scar getting out of the inescapable bedrock box he somehow put himself in, and transport charged creepers multiple times to his Magical Menagerie with no issue, finding and giving Jellie back to her owner after so long in the end. But then...

  How come he can't hold it all in when a friend just used a stupid vex magic to try and get him to talk about a topic he never wanted to dwell on?

  The incident ended with Scar apologising for what he did and as a good friend, Grian expressed his forgiveness even if it's reluctantly (but obviously he never showed it in his face). He still has mixed feelings after all that, apparently. Why can't he just suck it up and move on?

  Is that too much to ask?

  Once again, Taurtis jolts violently awake after another nightmare regarding his past despite having to drink four tablets at once about three hours ago, based on his wall clock. He stares blankly at the window and rubs his eyelids awake, seeing that the sun has started to rise from the horizon. With a sigh, he walks out of bed and changes into his regular clothes before grabbing himself a piece of bread at a snail's pace.

  He begins to fly towards a small opening that will lead him to his underground trading hall, stumbling forward to a wall as he lands a bit roughly compared to usual. With a yawn, he gathers a few emeralds and starts to trade in order to get the necessary materials he needs to restock his G-train. He trips on a few chests as he glides his way back to the villagers, earning a couple of concerned looks from them, but he shrugs it off and finishes trading to fill his last two Shulker boxes with redstone comparators.

  Taurtis leans his back against the piled boxes and sits down, gasping to catch his breath as he brings his legs to his chest, embracing them as he rests his heavy forehead to his knees. This is why he hates using sleeping pills. On one hand, he loves that he can use it to sleep when his body refuses to but the side effects are killing him. He takes a small peak towards the wall and sees it dancing before his eyes.

  He drags a sigh and huffs as he slowly stands back up, taking the Shulker boxes and placing them in his Inventory Bag before exiting the hall. Instead of flying, he decides to walk very, very slowly with unsteady legs as everything spins around him. He can't trust his wings to properly lift him off the ground at the moment.

  "Grian..."

  Once he arrives, he starts to retrieve the diamonds and keeps them in his Ender chest. He unpacks the boxes and places the hoppers into its proper chest. He can't restock some of the products right now, especially the cobbled deepslate since his body feels so sluggish and tired, so he doesn't have enough patience to mine for two or so hours.

  "Grian..."

  The red jumper is caught in his eye, making Taurtis stop and look down whilst stretching the hem to have a better look at his current clothing.

  Oh, it is red.

  "Grian..."

  He might want to change out of this if he doesn't want Sam to get mad at him again. So far, he's been in a good mood and he can't risk one wrong wardrobe to flip that in the blink of an eye. He bites his lower lip, hoping that he can wear this for at least a little longer.

  "Grian?"

  Taurtis really likes his red jumper, but if Sam says 'no', then he has no choice about the matter. The lump clogs the entrance of his throat as he pushes back the urge to cry. No, not now. He can't afford to let Sam see him be vulnerable or it's the sharp end of the knife for him.

  "Grian!"

  His vision begins to blur as a sob escapes his lips, making him wipe the tears away vigorously with a sleeve.

  "Grian!"

  He flinches violently as a familiar voice calls out to his—that name. Is that even his name? Should he still call himself Taurtis? He's not sure anymore. He slowly moves the arm away from his soaked cheeks as he turns around with a grimace, only to see a gaping Mumbo whose glassy raven eyes are seconds before tearing up.

  "Grian? A-Are you okay?" Mumbo's voice wavers in concern as he clutches his tie tightly with both hands.

  "Do—Do I still deserve to be called 'Grian'?" Taurtis bites the back of his cheeks as he forces back the urge to cry again, tightening his hold on his arms as he embraces himself.

  "Wha- Yes? Why d-do you think you don't d-deserve it, dude? I-It is your name." Mumbo stammers as he hovers a hand ahead of him as if to reach out to Gri- Taurtis.

  "It's—They..." His breath is caught in his throat. "...E-Everyone has been c-calling me 'Taurtis' and never- it's been so, so long since people have b-been calling me by that old name." He gasps as he lowers his head and bites his lower lip enough to draw blood in shame.

  What does that mean?

  What does Grian mean by that? Everyone has been calling him by his name all this time, though. Is anyone calling him different things without Mumbo knowing? Is someone actually bullying his best friend without his knowledge despite literally living next to each other?

  Some friend he is.

  He'll make sure to get to the bottom of this and find the culprit, who thinks they can hurt Grian just because he cares about every Hermit so much that he'll beat himself up despite not being at fault. He has seen enough of his friend's suffering and he can't afford to let him drift further away like this.

  "W-Why would they c-call you 'Taurtis', Grian?" Mumbo clenches his fists to his sides as he prods, ignoring how his voice cracks in the end.

  "It's..." Grian tightens his hold on his arms that his nails begin to dig through his jumper. "They're afraid of what Sca- Sam might do to them." He mutters, barely a whisper like he's scared someone might hear him.

  Mumbo doesn't miss the name change at the last minute, keeping in mind that he needs to have a word with mister Goodtimes later.

  Why would Scar do this to Grian, though?

  They were getting along so much with how their personalities just mix well together, despite the short amount of time they've encountered.

  What changed?

  "I can assure you, G, that no one will hurt you for using your real name. If you'd like, I will do it right here, right now. N-No matter how many times you need before you're satisfied, okay?" Mumbo rests a hand on Grian's shoulder as he reassures, ignoring how Grian jumps at the hold but luckily doesn't shy away from it.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "Are- Are you sure? He- he might..." Grian stares at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

  "Yes, Grian. This may sound ridiculous, Grian. But I'll call your name as much as you want me to, Grian. How does that sound, Grian?" Mumbo recites over and over, chuckling at the last part for how ridiculous he sounds.

  Grian huffs shortly after, finally relaxing his shoulders and his hold on his arms as he holds his stomach with both hands.

  "You're right. You do sound ridiculous." Grian laughs quietly.

  "Should I do it again, Grian? This might turn into a weird habit, Grian. Grian, I can't stop! At this rate, Grian, all I can say for the next few months is Grian." Mumbo rests a palm on his forehead as he laughs, hearing Grian join with his signature high-pitched one.

  After a few minutes of splitting their sides, they both wipe the tears away and part ways. Mumbo takes out his communicator, scrolling down to find Scar's name in the contacts. Just as he's about to click it, he jumps at the sudden ring and opens it to see Iskall asking for help regarding his redstone.

  Mumbo replies his affirmation and propels himself to the skies as he heads to Iskall and Etho's base, completely forgetting his goal without him realising it.

  ─── ? ??☆: *.? .* :☆?. ───

  Jellie purrs as she snuggles on Scar's chest while scratching behind her ears, walking around his large wagons to appreciate the progress he's made since the start that blends surprisingly well with nature. He gently places his beloved to the grass, letting her run around to get some exercise as he flies towards the Big Eyes Crew.

  Once he arrives at the city by the ocean, he swirls around in the sky as he looks for a certain blonde. Oh! Why didn't he think of messaging him beforehand? He slaps himself on the forehead at the realization and digs for his communicator by his jacket's inner pocket, typing his greetings to Tango and asking where they can meet.

  A few seconds later, a ring can be heard and quickly reads the reply (as fast as his dyslexia can handle). Without any time to waste, he flies to Tango's house where he sells his copper and candles. He doesn't need to worry about missing it considering how he's one of the most frequent customers when it comes to copper. As promised, he sees Tango emerging from the door and gives him a big wave.

  "Hello, Tango! It's so nice to see you!" Scar greets as he lands in front of the flight of stairs.

  "Hey, Scar! What brings you here in my shop? Do you want a special bulk order of my copper?" Tango walks down the stairs as he guesses.

  "Huh, that's actually a good idea." Scar nods in agreement. "Wait, no." He hastily shakes his head enough for his head to hurt, caressing it with a hand. "I'm actually here to ask for your expert redstone assistance." He claps his hands as he explains with a leveled tone that he usually uses when he's making a deal.

  "Oh? Scar, I'm quite flattered that you trusted my redstone prowess so badly that you came all this way from Boatem." Tango crosses his arms as he smirks. "But what about Impulse? I know his redstone skills is as great, if not, better than yours truly." He raises a brow in curiosity.

  "I, uh... He's a bit busy working in his factory. I can't really bother the candy man himself when he's absorbed in his work." Scar lies through his teeth as he smiles.

  "Okay. Fair, fair." Tango nods in agreement. "If that's the case... How may I help you, good sir?" He grins as he spreads his arms to the sides.

  "I need help with pranking Grian." Scar smirks as he starts.

  "Ooh! You piqued my interest right there, I gotta admit." Tango perks up as he chuckles.

  Scar and Tango have immediately started with brainstorming all sorts of ideas on how to prank their local bird man, listing different plans as well as their pros and cons. Tango suggests a moving wall and floor, which is impossible to break out of despite the strongest tools. But Scar reasons that it will be hard to observe Grian from the outside and the pistons are distracting (mainly because of the latter).

  Another suggestion from Tango about trapping Grian inside an obsidian box while he's asleep. It's both simple and can easily be redesigned for them to see better from the outside. Scar asks if Tango can create a pair of X-ray glasses in order to see through obsidian. The blonde instantly beams from the question, causing him to rant about already developing a camera that can let one see through anything with easy controls, and that he's planning to give every Hermit once he's done to easily view their builds and farms no matter how enormous they are.

  The thought of having such convenient technology makes Scar exclaim in excitement, thankful that he doesn't have to constantly waste rockets and fly around just to view his bases from afar.

  With that, the two begin to wait by Scar's Lanbo and wait for the night to come for the target to finally sleep. It took them until midnight with Grian still working on his Midnight Alley, but they move once he's finally asleep. They slowly enter the house and build an obsidian box around the bed, being careful not to make any noise as Scar digs the floor while Tango raises one side of the bed for Scar to place an obsidian and repeats with the other end.

  Once they're finished, they place an iron door from the remaining opening they left earlier for viewing purposes. It's a really good thing those things are extremely hard to break unless you have a pickaxe and have a small opening for you to peek in. Scar leans at the wall beside the front door as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, seeing Tango doing the same while sitting on one of the chests.

  "It turns out I don't really need your redstone expertise, after all. Sorry for bothering you when you're so busy." Scar whispers as he silently sighs in relief.

  "Don't worry about it. I wanted to get involved, anyway, so I can see the look on Grian's face when he wakes up. Thanks for inviting me." Tango shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand as he whispers a retort.

  "So... How about we take a nap at my place? We still have a few hours before sunrise and for Grian to wake up." Scar suggests as he stands straight with the help of his cane.

  "Good idea." Tango nods in agreement as they slowly go out through the front door and quietly close it.

  ─── ? ??☆: *.? .* :☆?. ───

  "Nooo!" Grian cries himself awake, rising to sit up as he stretches an arm ahead of him.

  His chest rises and falls frantically as he heaves for breath, clutching the hem of his thick blanket like a lifeline as he tries to regain his bearing. He grunts as he senses his temple throbbing with pain as if it's been pricked by millions of needles, holding it with a hand as if it will disappear.

  Wait, why does everything look pitch black even with all the various light sources surrounding his house? He looks around and shudders profusely with fear, making the boulder of a lump in his throat difficult to swallow more than ever. The obsidian box mocks him with its indifferent yet judging stature as the walls get closer and closer by the second, causing the tears to roll through his pale cheeks.

  He leaves the former comforts of his bed with quivering legs, whipping his head left to right as he looks for an opening to escape this prison with suppressed sobs that threaten to leave his pursed lips. He can't use his tools to break himself out when they're currently in his chests, which are all inaccessible when they're outside (but not him).

  What should he do?

  What if he'll never be able to get out?

  Grian throws himself towards an iron door, grunting as his shoulder twinges from the pain and holds it carefully with a hand. More tears and sobs are escaping as he can feel himself panicking more, slamming his fists desperately towards the hard surface of the obsidian walls, begging to be let out as he screams for help despite knowing it's futile.

  Sound can't travel that far when you're in a closed room made out of dense materials, after all.

  He grunts as loud as a tiger's roar as he thrashes the bed and flips it to the side, still feeling this weird internal or metaphorical itch that he wants to violently scratch as his puffy eye twitches. It persists when hundreds of feet are crawling from inside him, multiplying at every second as they vigorously climb every nook and cranny of his body. He runs to the walls and scratches his nails to the surface numerous times, over and over until the reduced edges have cracked and bleed.

  Grian slams his back towards the corner of the room, shrinking onto himself as he brings his quivering hands to his unkempt hair and pulls them as hard as he can, shrieking loudly by how the weird itch is still as present and stubborn as ever.

  It's still not gone! It's still here it's still here it's still here it's still here—

  He rips whatever feathers he can grab and pulls away from his now dishevelled wings, still sensing the crawling tiny legs but the consecutive twinges manage to drown some of them out of his mind.

  How much time has passed?

  Has it been weeks... years... centuries, even, since then?

  Compared to his frantic movements from earlier, all he can feel is nothing apart from his throbbing head as the numbness renders every appendage useless. His cracked lips hang slightly open, mouth and throat have been dry for a while, limbs being splayed all over the cold bloody floor as his eyeballs move towards the dancing grille, staring blankly at what he can see of the orange and cerulean horizon.

  It's all over.

  No one is going to find him and he'll die here sooner or later.

  This obsidian prison will be his grave as it will protect his rotting corpse soon.

  If he's going to die soon anyway, he might as well light something on fire. His trashed bed is flammable. Might as well burn that into dust.

  Grian slowly reaches for his pyjamas pocket, pulling out the cool metal of the flint and steel as he hovers it in front of him.

  Wait, he's inside an obsidian box right now. His eyes dart all around him as he measures the size, widening at the epiphany.

  It's the right measurements.

  He frantically stands from his seat, leaning towards the wall with a thud as his legs have fallen asleep on him. He brings the hand that's clutching the flint and steel like a lifeline towards the obsidian beside him, lighting it and brings forth the purple swirls of the Nether portal. He cracks a smirk as he gradually heads towards freedom, the iron door in front of him is reduced into purple distortions as he's transported into a different dimension.

  Grian may be a sitting duck in there with nothing to his name, but at least he’s free.