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For Grian, it happened too fast. He didn’t even have time to comprehend what the piercing pain in his shoulder was as he plummeted to his death. But for Mumbo, time seemed to slow down. He watched in horror as Joel climbed the ladder up to their ghast farm and loaded an arrow into his bow. He screamed a warning to Grian, telling him to watch out, to move away from the edge, to do anything, but neither of them reacted fast enough. Seconds seemed like hours as the arrow whistled through the air and hit its mark. Grian’s loud, terrified screams made Mumbo’s heart drop to his feet. He felt utterly useless. All Mumbo could do was stand in shock as his yellow-named best friend fell to his death.
As Grian hit the ground, body crumpling on impact, five other server members collapsed in unison. Impulse, Martyn, and Jimmy were all together in their base, making some improvements to their sugarcane farm when they erupted into cries of pain. Each man felt lightning bolts of pain run up their legs. The air was knocked out of their lungs, and their vision blurred as each bone felt like it had been crushed.
Despite what felt like the pain of a hundred broken bones, Impulse managed to pull out his communicator and read the latest notification.
“Grian!” he cried out. “He, he fell from a high place! He’s dead!”
“But he’s a yellow name!” Jimmy shouted in despair.
Due to the death message and their previous experiences with life bonds and deaths of friends, the three quickly came to the conclusion that the life bond was the cause of their pain. However, across the server, a different member had not yet made the connection.
Scar was peacefully building his wizard shop when a wave of pain suddenly knocked him off of his roof. He hit the ground, and it felt as if he had fallen 300 blocks when he had only fallen 30. His entire body shook with pain, and Scar was sure that all of his bones were broken. When the pain finally subsided, he was gasping for air. Scar reached for his communicator to see if anyone else knew what was going on.
However, his hand fell upon an empty pocket. He had left his communicator inside. Scar tried to stand up, but a sharp pain in his left leg caused him to collapse back onto the ground. He attempted to stand again, but his leg felt broken, or fractured at the very least. He was stuck with no way to move, and no way to call for help. He allowed himself to lay down in the soft mountain grass and hoped that if he fell asleep, death wouldn’t find him.
The fifth person who shared Grian’s pain was Mumbo. Lucky for Mumbo, he was prepared for the pain, and he had adrenaline pumping through his veins. Together, those probably saved his life. He was able to draw his sword and frighten off Joel before he fell to his knees. The pain of Grian’s death hurt, yes, it sent shock waves through his very being, but Mumbo was certain that the emotional pain of watching his best friend fall to his death, of not being able to save him, hurt worse.
Grian respawned in the base he had constructed earlier in the day. Tears filled his eyes and threatened to spill over; he had not expected to need this base anytime soon. He sat up in his bed and gave himself time to process what had happened, and time to enjoy his last few minutes before the bloodlust of being a red name consumed him.
I can still be myself. Grian thought. I won’t become a monster. I won’t hurt my friends.
His friends. Grian had entirely forgotten. The life bond had most certainly taken effect. Everyone: Mumbo, Impulse, Jimmy, Martyn, Scar, they must have all felt it. They all suffered because of him. Because of the life bond. Speaking of the life bond, he didn’t feel it anymore. He didn’t feel the life bond anymore! The comforting buzz of connection to his friends had grown familiar, and now it was gone. Becoming a red name must break the bond. Grian’s head was spinning, and he could swear that his vision was tinted red.
Grian put on the armor he had prepared and threw some food and other supplies into his bag. He let himself linger as he grabbed a shiny iron blade out of a chest. He ran his fingers along the smooth, cool metal of the sword before heading out of the base’s hidden door.
It felt as if one half of Grian’s mind was fighting the other. Part of him wanted blood, wanted destruction, and pain, and death. The other half was terrified. If Grian let himself be consumed by the bloodlust, like Joel had, he wouldn’t be able to resist hurting his friends. Hurting Mumbo. He couldn’t just ignore his cravings though, but that didn’t mean he had to kill. Maybe if he just messed around with some people, just scared them a little, it would be good enough.
Grian stumbled through the forest, his bright red eyes shining. He needed to decide who he should scare first, but the choice was easy. His good friend Scar. He climbed the mountain up to Scar’s base, but before he reached the summit, he heard Scar let out a pained cry and another voice comfort him.
“Scar, I know it hurts, but we need to get you inside,” said a voice that Grian had identified as Tango.
“I don’t think I can stand, my leg’s definitely broken,” Scar whined.
Tango sighed. “I can carry you inside…”
“Yeah, whatever.” Scar sounded defeated.
Despite the concern he had for Scar and his potentially broken leg, he laughed as he walked up to Scar and Tango.
“Hey, Scar!” Grian smirked at the man before turning to look at Tango. “Hey, Tango.”
Tango was crouched on the ground next to Scar. “Grian, go away.”
Scar looked as if he was about to pass out, and Tango furiously hissed, “Seriously. You need to leave.”
“Tango, I’m not trying to cause any problems. I just wanted to see how my good friend Scar is doing.”
“I’m going to take Scar into his house and set his leg,” Tango stated. “If you do anything, and I mean anything, that comes off as threatening, I will not hesitate to kill you. Alright?”
“Alright!” Grian laughed. He raised his hands and backed away. “I’m not gonna hurt anyone. Don’t know why you’re so on edge.”
Grian began to rummage through some chests as Tango picked up Scar and quickly walked inside. He trampled some of Scar’s crops, but seeing as neither Tango nor Scar were going to come back out of the house anytime soon, he decided to find someone else to bother. Grian started to head down the mountain when he spotted Joel. The red-eyed man didn’t frighten Grian, and he didn’t feel all that upset that Joel had killed him. In fact, when he reached Joel, he listened to the explanation of how he pulled Grian’s murder off in awe and admiration. Together, the two talked and laughed, and Grian realized he was beginning to become more comfortable being a red name. The thought was frightening, but not entirely unwelcome.
Suddenly, Jimmy and Martyn walked out of the woods into the clearing where Grian and Joel were standing. They looked scared, and that sent a pang of sorrow through Grian’s chest.
“Jimmy, we can’t be friends anymore,” Grian said hesitantly.
Jimmy crept forward with Martyn close behind him and pulled a spyglass out of his bag. “We’ve come here to give you your final notice, but we thought we’d give you a little momento.”
“I’ve been exiled from my own base!” Grian laughed, although internally, he felt sick.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Martyn said. “Well, I guess I can’t call you buddy anymore. Non-buddy.”
They began to back away, exchanging final parting words, and Grian couldn’t help but scowl.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Joel said. “We could always kill them, you know.”
“No, no,” Grian exclaimed. “They are, I mean were, my friends. They were good to me.”
As soon as Martyn and Jimmy left, Joel began to share all of the traps he had set up, and his plans for future traps. Grian let himself forget the pain of being left behind by his friends and listened eagerly to Joel. Maybe letting the bloodlust take control wouldn’t be such a bad thing; he wouldn’t have to feel bad that his friends were scared of him if he was actually being scary.
Later in the day, Grian headed out to the nether to see if he could retrieve the stuff he lost when he died. On his way to the nether, he passed through spawn. He heard muffled voices that quickly disappeared once he got closer.
“Friendship is here…” Grian sang. “Where are you?”
He began to dig down underneath the spawn, and he entered the hidden base just in time to see someone placing blocks to hide from him.
“Shh! Be quiet!” The voices hissed to each other.
“What have I just stumbled upon?” Grian asked curiously.
“Nothing,” Scott and Pearl said as they removed the wood blocks they had been hiding behind and cautiously looked at him.
At that moment, their communicators simultaneously pinged. They each read the new death message: Cleo fell from a high place. Grian, Pearl, and Scott all began shouting in shock. Cleo was the third person to become a red name. Grian couldn’t help but be a little excited that he had another person on his side.
“Please leave,” Pearl asked. “Forget you saw any of this.”
Scott pulled out his sword. “Red names aren’t allowed here.”
Grian began to leave, but some suspicious trap doors stopped him in his tracks. “Hey, these aren’t trapped, are they?”
“No,” Scott said. “We’re the good people; we’re not you.”
Grian ignored the comment and left the base. Joel was standing outside of the base, and he looked at Grian questioningly.
“What has just happened?” Joel exclaimed. “I mean, I’ll claim it but…”
“Wait,” Grian shouted. He quickly sent a message to everyone saying that he had killed Cleo. “I don’t know what happened, but I’ll take credit.”
The group laughed, and though the laugh was void of any real joy. The air was tense, and slowly, Joel and Grian began to leave. Scott and Pearl were muttering about how they needed to move their base, and Grian’s head was spinning with the adrenaline rush of just knowing that someone had died. He left Joel and ran off into the forest to continue his mission of retrieving his stuff.
On his way to the portal, Grian passed by his base. Well, he supposed it wasn’t his base anymore.
“This is so sad,” he said aloud to no one. “Something that I once called home, the home that I built, I’m no longer welcome.”
A wave of grief hit Grian, and he sat next to the cobblestone walls that protected his, no, not his, home. He couldn’t believe that all it took to destroy his life was one arrow. That one arrow pushed him to his death, but it also pushed his friends away. Sure, they were keeping their distance, kicking him out of his home, being terrified of him, for their own safety, but did they really have that little trust in him? He had promised to not betray them. Certainly that meant something, even if he was a red life now.
Grian was angry. He was killed! It wasn’t like he did anything to deserve this distrust. His name color had changed, but that didn’t mean he had. Except somewhere deep in Grian’s mind, he knew that he had changed.
No, no, he thought. Just get your stuff. It’s fine.
He abruptly stood up, wiped the tears from his face, (when had he started crying?), and continued walking towards the portal. He let the purple particles engulf him, and he didn’t let himself even consider the dangers of going back to the nether.
The heat didn’t seem to bother Grian as much as it used to before his death. It was a silver lining, however small. He worked his way along the path to the hole in the nether roof. He climbed up the ladder through the hole in the bedrock. Grian laughed when he saw that Mumbo had finished the ghast farm. Making it was such a stupid idea, but he was glad that Mumbo had succeeded. He wanted to see the farm up close, but as he made his way over to the ladder, he nearly tripped over a chest.
In front of the chest was a sign that read: “I saved your stuff, don’t hurt me. - Mumbo”. Grian opened up the chest, and sure enough, everything was there. Not a single item was missing. Grian fell to his knees. He leaned against the chest and sobbed. He hadn’t truly cried yet on this server. He didn’t cry when Bdubs killed him, or when Mumbo died, or when he became a red life. The day’s events were finally catching up to him, and so he let himself feel. He cried for his lost lives, and the lives his friends had lost. He cried over how quickly his friends had abandoned him, and how scared he was of becoming a monster. Grian stayed there for a while, just letting it all out, but eventually, he dried his eyes and gathered his stuff out of the chest. He stood up and looked at the farm again. Did the nether roof always look this red?
Grian climbed up the ladder, and to his surprise, Mumbo was still there. He flinched as Mumbo spotted him and backed away from the edge of the farm.
“It’s ok, Mumbo, it’s ok!” Grian called as he reached the top of the ladder.
The two began to talk about the ghast farm, which Mumbo had finished and gotten working. Grian congratulated Mumbo on his success, and they laughed together as if nothing was wrong. It seemed like nothing had changed between the two, but the distance that Mumbo carefully kept between himself and Grian begged to differ.
“You know, Mumbo, there is a way we can still be friends…”
“Yeah?” Mumbo asked. He looked as if he was considering something for a minute, and then he took a few steps toward Grian.
Grian also walked towards Mumbo, his red eyes shining, and exclaimed, “You could join me!”
He quickly swung his pickaxe and broke the block at Mumbo’s feet. Luckily, Mumbo reacted in time and avoided falling the 300 blocks to his death. He looked down at the hole in the platform and back up at Grian with wide eyes.
“Grian, I…”
“C’mon Mumbo, we can still be friends!” Grian shouted.
He broke more blocks, forcing Mumbo to stumble backward. Mumbo was shouting at Grian to stop, but he kept destroying the thin platform. The gap in the narrow walkway was rapidly growing, but Mumbo, in a burst of adrenaline, leaped onto the handrail and ran past Grian to the ladder.
“Grian, please! Stop!” Mumbo pleaded to his friend, but Grian only laughed and crouched down next to Mumbo.
Mumbo was clinging to the ladder, begging Grian to stop, but he fell silent when he looked into Grian’s eyes. Gone were the soft, kind eyes Mumbo loved, and in their place were angry, red eyes. At that moment, Mumbo knew his friend was gone, and he realized how much danger he was in. Grian laughed maniacally and broke the blocks surrounding Mumbo one by one.
“We can still be friends!” Grian yelled once more.
Once Mumbo was trapped on the ladder with nowhere else to go, Grian began to break the ladder, and Mumbo yelped as he slid down the wooden rungs. Grian could practically smell Mumbo’s terror, and it fueled his rampage. He swung his pickaxe at Mumbo’s hands to force him to let go of the ladder. Mumbo barely moved his hands in time to avoid being knocked to his death, and he started to climb down the ladder. He descended the ladder enough to be out of Grian’s reach and then paused.
“Grian, I’m not gonna give up my yellow life so that we can ‘still be friends.’ That would just be stupid. I love you, but I’m not stupid.” With that, he continued his descent.
Mumbo’s words snapped Grian out of his red haze. Did Mumbo say love? Guilt washed over him in waves, threatening to drown him.
“I’m sorry, Mumbo! I’m so sorry!” He shouted down to Mumbo, but the man was too far from Grian to hear his apologies.
Grian considered chasing after Mumbo to apologize, but he didn’t want to scare him. He didn’t want to damage his relationship with the only man crazy enough to still love him as a red name any further.
Love.