#and i can hear each of the other lines in Tango and Zed's voices

[siriannatan]

I've been busy today...

Inspired and based on this amazing art by @mojo-chojo

(Guess who might be writing a #birds of a feather au piece? me... we'll see if I ever finish or red ropes prove too much...)

The last person Tango expected to see sat at the bar of iCandy, barely after the opening, after waking up from his day time nap, was Zedaph. A crazy inventor/scientist who helped him build his gun sometime after he became a full-fledged hunter. At least he thought it was Zedaph. Zed he knew didn't have any hooves or horns. The coat, the hair and the eyes were the same. The voice too as he laughed at Impulse grumbling at whatever he was mixing. 

"Tango, please order something normal..." Impulse whined noticing the vampire.

"Tango?! What are you doing here?" Zedaph asked almost hopping on his stool.

"Living kind of," Tango shrugged baring his fangs. 

"Whaaa? When? Who? How? Why?" Zed almost fell off his seat grinning and bombarding Tango with questions.

"A few months ago. A vampire I was hired to kill. No idea how I was kind of dying because I decided to not do it and they tried to kill me," Tango explained. He was much less sour about the whole thing now.

"One gross monstrosity and one speciality," Impulse presented two drinks. Wincing at Zed's and winking at Tango when giving him his. "You two know each other?" he asked. There were few other customers and they already had their drinks. 

"Ugh, that's gross," Zed cringed after one sip of his drink.

"Told you so," Impulse sighed, his eyes going wide as the satyr still finished the monstrosity in one go. 

"Kind of, at least I think we do," Tango sighed, drinking his special, spiked with blood drink. "Zed helped me make Holsten..."

"Our baby how's our baby?" Zed almost creamed hearing the name.

"Perfectly fine," Tango sighed pulling out the gun. He didn't miss the way Impulse's back tensed and untensed. "Don't worry Impy, it's a strictly business relationship," he assured the jinn with a grin.

Zed watched them for a moment, sipping a beer he ordered to wash his previous drink down. There was something fishy going on there and he wasn't sure he wanted to poke it. "So," he eventually said, giving Tango a side glance once Impulse was gone to help another customer. "One of the guild's best hunters is now a vampire and flirting with an owner of a magical tavern? Interesting..."

"And you have hooves and horns," Tango huffed. He didn't like secrets.

"I'm sure you can guess why I hide it," Zed sighed.

Tango did. Now. Back then he'd be much more confused, maybe even turned to violence. "Humans aren't all that kind," the former hunter sighed finishing his drink. 

"Tell me about it," Zed sighed. "Not even to each other."

Tango nodded. "I've been with more kindness as a vampire than a hunter," he confessed. He didn't even tell Impulse about that.

"That's the way it is," Zed sighed, tapping a hoof on the metal part of the stool. "So, you got a boyfriend now..."

"No." Tango ended that line of questioning. "How haven't I seen you here before?"

"Today's my first time, a friend recommended the place to me," Zed instantly stopped sulking from Tango's shut down and grinned. "You met Doc yet?"

"Can't say I have," Tango shook his head. Doc? What kind of name was that...

"I'm sure he'll show up, eventually," Zed laughed finishing his beer and shouting for another.

Tango sighed. Apparently, he was going to see Zed more often now... Fun.

[shadeswift99]

The universe woke me up at 2:30am for this so it must be urgently important

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Remember when Grian and Zed swapped bases and Grian messed with the void button? He did get out, but what if he didn't have the situation under control?

I wish Grian and Zedaph would collab more asdfghjkl also I love “what if” scenarios based on actual HC events so this was great fun to write! :D

...

  “This is Grian’s cave of contraptions!” announces Zedaph, gesturing to the dim interior of his cave. “It’s jam-packed full of all the craziest, wackiest contraptions your brain could ever imagine, so uh… be careful is my advice.” 

  “Okay, okay.” As he stares all around his new home, Grian’s mind is already racing with ideas and plans. Every corner of this undetailed cave is calling to him to work his magic and turn it from just a cave of contraptions to a beautifully decorated cave of contraptions. “And I’m free to do whatever I want?”

  Zedaph nods. “You can push any button, pull any lever, press anything, do whatever you like.”

  Grian’s eyes widen as he registers just how many pushable and flickable items are dotted around the cave. His fingers are already itching to interact with them all. “There’s so many buttons… and levers…!” 

  Zedaph giggles, sensing the impulsiveness rising in his friend. But his laughter quickly dies down as he realises exactly where Grian is standing. “Oh, that thing right in front of you? Be very careful about that, it’s a void hole.” 

  “What, down here?” Grian flicks open the trapdoor and hops into it immediately, but something stops him just two blocks down. 

  “Yeah, it takes you to the void.”

  “No it doesn’t.”

  “It will if you press that red button,” says Zedaph, indicating the button in question. “Please don’t do that though. You’re not meant to be able to fall into the void in the overworld so I’m not sure what’s gonna happen if you-.”

  But Grian isn’t listening. Already overexcited and running on pure impulsiveness, he presses the button and drops. 

  “Grian!” Zedaph shouts after him. 

  Grian stares down as he fully realises that there is indeed a hole to the void directly below him. Chuckling to himself, he tries to fly up.

  His wings are too large for the tight tunnel.

  Trying not to panic, he activates his elytra and a few rockets. 

  He keeps falling. 

  A scream escapes him as he plummets, grabbing wildly at the walls of the thin stone hole. Zedaph’s words have finally sunk in, and he has no idea what’s going to happen to him if he falls into the void here. 

  Finally, he manages to catch hold of the edge of a mined-out block right at the very bottom of the tunnel, his entire body hanging over the void. 

  “ZEDAPH!” he screams. “HELP ME!”

  Far above him, a panicked Zedaph jumps from foot to foot, staring down into the hole as he tries to think of something he can do to help. “Um…! Okay, okay…” He raises his voice to a yell. “Hang on, Grian! I’ll get help!” 

  He rushes towards the door and bursts out onto the sand. To his surprise, he immediately bumps into Tango, who steadies him with a grin. “Oh hey, Zed. I was just coming over to-.”

  “I need you to go get X!” Zedaph gasps out. “Quickly, it’s an emergency!”

  “Wh-What?” Tango blinks, registering Zedaph’s red face and panicked state. “What’s happened? Is everything okay?”

  “I can’t explain now, just go! Quickly!”

  Tango frantically takes off with his elytra, soaring into the sky at top speed. 

  Zedaph turns around and rushes back into the cave. A couple of blocks away from the void hole, he starts digging down with his pickaxe, ignoring the fact that he’s not technically supposed to dig straight down. He keeps going, desperate to reach his friend. 

  Finally, he reaches bedrock. He digs forward until the hole is exposed, with Grian still clinging on. 

  “Zedaph!” Grian gasps. “I can’t pull myself up!”

  Zedaph rushes forward and takes hold of Grian as best he can, strengthening his friend’s rapidly weakening grip. 

  “I can’t hold on much longer.” Grian’s voice cracks. “I’m sorry!”

  Zedaph quickly shakes his head. “You’ll be okay, Grian. Help is on the way.”

  As if on cue, he hears a voice yelling very faintly from far above him. “Zed! Where are you?!”

  “DOWN HERE!” he yells. “QUICKLY!”

  “We’re coming down, Zed!” Tango’s voice yells back. “Hang on!”

  Feeling a burst of courage at knowing help is coming, Zedaph manages to lift Grian up enough that Grian is no longer holding onto the bedrock. Grian gasps in fear and grips Zedaph’s arms so tightly that it starts to hurt. 

  But as he’s trying to pull Grian up, Zedaph’s strength rapidly drains away and they both slip straight through the hole.

  They both scream, clutching each other tightly for a meagre amount of reassurance as they fall towards certain death. As they get lower, they start taking damage, wrenching the two away from each other.

  Then all of a sudden, they stop falling. They hang suspended in mid-air, as if an invisible force has reached out and caught them. 

  When Grian finally dares to open his eyes, he finds himself lying on the ground in the cave, several blocks away from the opening to the void hole. 

  He can see two people nearby: Tango and Xisuma. The former is bending over Zedaph a few blocks away but Xisuma is standing over him, arms folded. “What did you do?”

  ““Are you okay, Grian?”” Grian mutters bitterly, imitating Xisuma’s voice. “Yeah I’m fine, X, don’t worry.”

  “Grian, I had to do something just now that I haven’t done in many decades, so I’d appreciate less attitude right now,” snaps Xisuma. 

  Grian hangs his head. “I fell into Zed’s hole to the void. It was fully my fault; I was being stupid. Zed tried to save me. Is he… okay?”

  “I’ll let you know when he wakes up,” Xisuma responds coldly. “He’s sensitive to the void, you know. He wasn’t just risking death to save you, he was risking his whole existence.”

  “Th-Then why did he build a hole to the void in the first place?!”

  “He wasn’t planning for some idiot to jump into it!” Tango snaps suddenly. “He put two safety measures in place and I’m pretty sure they didn’t just happen to fail RIGHT when you arrived!”

  Grian winces, knowing that his friends are right. “I’m sorry. I thought I had the situation under control.”

  As Tango opens his mouth to angrily say something back, his best friend weakly catches his wrist. “‘m okay,” he rasps. “I’m okay, Tango.”

  As Tango helps Zedaph sit up, Grian has to stifle a gasp as he notices that Zedaph’s face is extremely pale and almost invisible silver lines are snaking up his neck, stopping just under his chin. 

  “Thanks for saving us, Xisuma, Tango.” Zedaph gives a weak smile. “Sorry for the trouble.”

  “How DID you save us?” Grian ventures. 

  Xisuma shoots him a stern look. “A command I really don’t like using. Pray I don’t have to use it again.”

  With that, he turns and storms off towards the exit, slowing briefly to pat Zedaph on the shoulder as he passes. 

  “You mind leaving me and Grian alone a second?” Zedaph asks his best friend.

  Tango slowly nods, still scowling at Grian. “Sure thing. But come find me later, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  Zedaph waits until both Xisuma and Tango have left before turning to Grian. But before he can speak, Grian blurts out, “I’m so sorry! You warned me and I didn’t listen and now you’re hurt and we both could have died and-.”

  “Okay, okay, stop.” Zedaph can’t help laughing as he quickly interrupts his friend. “Stop. Dude, it’s okay. You made a stupid decision but honesty, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing in your position. I don’t usually listen to warnings and stuff either.”

  Grian sits back on his heels. “It’s still my fault. What’s with the… um…?” He gestures to his neck. 

  “Oh, this happens when I get too close to the void,” says Zedaph, tracing the line on his own neck. “Don’t worry, it’s not painful and it fades after a few hours. Dunno why it happens really, but I got it for days at a time when I was actually working on that thing. Gotta say, it was a pain to explain to Impulse when he was here breaking the bedrock. I- Wait, are you crying?”

  “No.” Grian clears his throat and turns away. “I just don’t know why you’re being so nice when I almost got both of us killed, maybe permanently.”

  “Well, I mean…” Zedaph gives a carefree shrug. “We didn’t die, so no need to dwell on the past. Lesson learned, huh?”

  “Normally I’d say no but in this case, I think it’d only be possible for me to learn this lesson harder if you or I actually died.”

  “Exactly!” Zedaph rises to his feet, ignoring the sting of pain coming from his lower back. “C’mon, let me show you the rest of the cave. I’ve got some epic stuff in here that will only kill you in normal, minorly painful ways.”

  Grian lets out a quiet laugh. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  Zedaph helps him up and the two start further into the cave but Zedaph stops. “Wait a sec, I just need to do something quickly. Go explore a bit, I’ll be right back.”

  As Grian walks away, Zedaph heads back towards the hole. He mines out the iron trapdoor and replaces the first three blocks inside the hole with stone, including the block that used to hold the trapdoor, then he removes both the lever and the button, nullifying the redstone. He can replace them later, once they’ve swapped bases back. 

  After all, there’s always another void hole, but there’s only one Grian.

[justletmeplayminecraft]

I love reading all your stories and always find myself coming back to them. I think my favs are prob the ones from the Space Outlaw AU, especially the Ex & Zed one, it always makes me smile. That kinda brings me to this request; I'd love to see a followup to that story where Zed is reunited with Tango & Impulse on the ship and what happens a bit afterwards. ^_^

aaa my gosh, thank you so much. it means a lot to hear that and honestly i wouldn't have had the courage to do it without @martuzzio creating this amazing au & encouraging me !!

as for the request, it's actually a scene ive avoided writing in the past, because everyone kinda has their own idea of how it goes? so i wanna say, just because i've written it, it doesn't mean other people can't write it their way!! even i have other ideas of how it could go!! additionally, if you want more of zit's early days after reuniting, it's a side focus in this fic! i realised it was missing from my masterpost so thought i'd mention it gjgfs

alright, on with the fic:

"And this is one of our secondary testing labs," Xisuma introduces, holding his hand out as they step inside. Seeing the current occupant, he turns that hand into a wave. "Afternoon, Impulse." Zedaph perks up at the name, bright eyes focused on the goggled man in front of him.

"Hey, X." Impulse doesn't look up from his current project, carefully soldering two pieces of wire together. "We got our new recruit?" Zedaph's jaw is falling open as Impulse speaks. Any further and it might unhinge.

"We have!" X glances at Zedaph, his smile becoming a soft look of concern. "This is Zedaph, he may not be joining us permanently but-" Impulse looked up the second Xisuma said 'Zedaph'.

"Zed?" Impulse breathes the name like it's sacred, with the same reverence of a god's. Zedaph stares at him with wide eyes, a noise escaping before he can attempt a word. He raises his hands, tears gathering.

"Impulse?" Zed's gasp is wet, grabbing the strap of his bag. "Is that- Am I dreaming? I must be- I-" Impulse barely remembers to turn off his solderer before he's running forward.

The two meet in the middle. Impulse grabs Zed's face, rubbing his fingers over his cheeks. All Zed can do is reach up and hold Impulse's hands tight. They're rough and dirty and Impulse's face is dirty and he's wearing goggles but that's Impulse. That's Impulse, who's wiping away the tears rolling down Zedaph's face.

"Hold on, hold on- Let me-" Impulse pulls away to snap his goggles onto his forehead. "It's you- I can't- It's really you." Zedaph sobs softly, falling forward and pressing the sides of their faces together. He reaches for Impulse's hair, burying his fingers into the strands. Together, they sway in place, legs shaking so much it's hard to stay up. "I don't- Zed-"

Zedaph laughs, high-pitched and hysterical, "I must be dreaming, I must be." Impulse joins his laughter, grip on Zedaph tightening enough to leave white marks on his skin. There's barely an inch of space left between them.

"If you're dreaming then so am I." Impulse sounds breathless. Zedaph squeezes him, tears dampening both of their cheeks.

"I don't want it to end," he whispers, a hint of fear in his voice at the thought. If he could, he'd cling to this moment forever. His heart singing in his chest, Impulse's solid weight in his hands. Neither of them want to wake up.

"You're not dreaming," Xisuma says. They jump apart as they remember he's there. Zedaph wipes the tears from his cheeks. His other hand stays in Impulse's. Their knuckles are pale in each other's grip. "I can finish this tour later, give you some time together." Zedaph feels like he should protest Xisuma's kindness, but the only sound he could make would be broken noise. Impulse continues looking at him like he's the most precious of gems, or a project he's spent months on and finally finished.

"I'll let you know when we're finished with him," Impulse replies. Zedaph stares at him, taking in how he's aged. They've lost so much time. "Do you mind if it's in a month or so? Maybe a year?" Xisuma chuckles, smiling fondly.

"As much time as you need." He tells them, with a polite nod. Impulse just manages to nod back before Xisuma leaves the pair in the empty lab. They stare at each other, barely breathing. Zedaph traces one of the wrinkles that he swears weren't there before. Laugh lines. Worry lines.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm an old man." Zedaph laughs, pulling Impulse's goggles off so he can press their foreheads together. The bright lights of the lab catch their eyes, leaving them sparkling with tears. They fall into a comfortable silence. Together, in their own world - blind to the bright lights and deaf to the quiet hum of electricity. Focused on the other alone. Zedaph finally pulls away when he processes an earlier sentence, face scrunched in confusion.

"We're finished with him?" He questions. There's a swell of hope in his chest that he doesn't want to believe. He wants to cling to it, doesn't want it to be crushed. Impulse nods, ever so slightly.

"Tango. He's here too. He's- Zed, he missed you so much." The swell spills over. Impulse clutches him tight as Zed sobs, entire body shaking with the force. He falls into Impulse's chest, firm hands keeping him upright. Eventually, the sobs quiet into shaking breaths and Impulse moves his hands to cup Zedaph's cheeks, looking into blue eyes. "Zed would- do you want to see him?" Zedaph nods, nails digging into the strap of his rucksack.

"Does- Would he want to see me?" Impulse smiles, nodding in return. He swipes his thumbs across Zed's cheeks, disrupting the tear tracks left there.

"Zed, he'd want nothing more. Both of us have wanted nothing more than to see you since- since-" Zedaph cries again at the thought. It's been so, so long.

"Yeah-" He agrees, "Yeah, me too."

It takes them several minutes until they can separate enough to walk. Impulse leads the way through the ship. Their pace is close to running, Impulse navigating the way to the lower decks on pure instinct. Between them, their hands stay clasped together, never loosening. Zedaph's other hand rests on his bag strap. The Hermits they pass don't interrupt. A few watch with knowing smiles.

"Tango!" Impulse calls as they grow closer to the engine bays. Zedaph's pace slows and Impulse smiles in encouragement, nudging their shoulders together. He tries to smile back, air caught in his throat, tears ready to spill again. His emotions are haywire: anxiety, excitement, fear, elation. He's feeling so much.

"Impulse!" Tango's voice echoes from deeper into the bays. Impulse leads Zed in, watching his wide eyes focus at the voice. Zedaph feels like his body is giving out beneath him. He's going to shake apart. "What brings you here?"

"I'm- Not here for me, actually." Tango pulls himself out from under one of the cables. He stretches, eyes closed and a wrench in his hand. He's wearing a simple dress, the heat in the bays comfortable enough for him without his suit. Then he opens his eyes and freezes with his arms still above his head. Zedaph steps a little further behind Impulse, both of his hands tensing. Impulse squeezes back.

"Impulse?" Tango asks, looking between them both. His red eyes are wide, arms lowering awkwardly. "Is that- Are you?" Impulse nods, turning to Zed.

"Yeah, yeah, it really is." Impulse squeezes Zedaph's hand again, gently encouraging him forward. Zedaph's already crying. He seems to be doing a lot of that.

"Tango," he whispers. Tango can't hold back any longer, running forward so he can hold Zedaph's face in his hands. The wrench clatters to the floor as Tango wipes across Zedaph's cheeks. He looks into those blue eyes and knows his are just as teary. Zedaph allows Impulse to take the rucksack from his back, lower it to the floor.

"Zed." Tango rubs along Zedaph's hairline. The way he leans into the touch is so familiar Tango can only cry. "Nether, it's- I can't believe-" Zed nods, holding him desperately.

"I can't either," he agrees with a wobbling voice. Impulse wraps his arms around Zedaph's chest, resting his head on Zed's warm shoulder. They all cling to each other with no intention of letting go.

"Did you know?" Tango asks, looking between Impulse and Zed. And he can look between them. They're both here, in front of him. All three of them in one place, safe and- He used to dream about this, he never thought it could be a reality.

"No," Impulse tells him, "I had no idea. None at all."

"I didn't-" Zed agrees, "I- I really didn't- I never even guessed." He reaches back for Impulse's hand, legs finally giving up. He makes a soft noise as he drops, the two quick to support him and lower them to the ground. The trio continue hugging each other on the hot floor of the bay. There's no way of telling where each of them start and end, limbs tangled into a pile.

Impulse buries his face against Zedaph's back, Tango weeping openly. The sound of their cries echo in the bay. None of them care. Why think about the world around them when they can focus on each other? How they feel in each other's arms, the heat of Tango's hair, Zedaph's fingers twitching in Impulse's hand and Tango's dress. Convincing themselves they're not dreaming. This is real.

"Wait, wait, wait-" Zed leans back from them both, reaching for his bag. He digs around his shawl until he pulls out a small band of twisted woollen threads, thinned and snapped. "I- I kept it. It's broken but I kept it-" Tango draws Zed back into their hold with a hand on his cheek. His other hand wipes away tears.

"Oh, Zed." Tango's voice is so soft. "You- How do you never fail to surprise us?" Impulse laughs, settling his chin on Zedaph's shoulder. Their heads automatically lean towards each other.

"I'm so glad you do," Impulse says, squeezing Zed's hand. "This is the best surprise I could ever ask for." Zedaph breathes out, words completely lost to him.

"Hey," Tango smiles at them, bottomless love in his eyes. "You can make us new ones now." Zedaph gasps through tears, nodding eagerly.

"Yeah," he agrees, rubbing his eyes on Tango's hand, "I can."

-

They end up in one of the sleeping dens. Zedaph is curled between them, feeling more relaxed than he has in years. Tango is in front of him, an arm around him whilst Impulse's hand rubs his cheek. Zed nudges comfortably into their holds, enjoying the longed for contact with his herd. Tango's hair is secured in a fireproof wrap. Zedaph knows from experience that it's hot but he has the urge to poke it anyway. For old times sake. Thankfully, Impulse notices, grabbing Zedaph's hand and pulling it down. Zed twists to see him, smiling cheekily as Impulse shakes his head.

"What are you two doing?" Tango questions, peering at them with gentle eyes. Impulse turns to Zedaph again, both of them breaking into smiles. Zed brings a hand up to stifle his giggles.

"He was going to touch your wrap," Impulse answers. Zedaph's laughter grows in volume as he curls into Tango, hiding his face.

"Zed!" Tango cries, "I know it's been awhile, man, but-"

"You shut your mouth!" Zed's voice is muffled, cheeks red and sore from smiling. Tango digs his fingers into Zedaph's woollen curls, laughing as a few fall loose. Oh, how he's missed that texture. Impulse sighs, pulling Zed closer to his chest unconsciously. Tango moves with him.

"It's been way too long," Impulse says, voice quiet as he speaks. "Gods, Zed, we just- we just didn't know. We thought you were-" Tango hums, cutting off Impulse's sentence. But Zedaph only nods, face poking up again. His head rolls to the side, expression turning sad, even if it's briefly.

"I- I thought so too. I-" He freezes. On unsteady hands, he tries to push himself up. "Skizz." The word is urgent in his mouth. "Is he okay? Was he safe?" Impulse lowers him back onto Tango by brushing his fingers across Zed's hairline.

"He's fine," he tells him. "We talk often, he's been doing great for himself. Oh, he's- he's going to be so happy we've found you. None of us could, we looked so hard." Zedaph nudges until he's comfortable again, letting the words sink in. Skizz is safe. They're all safe. It's a dream come true.

"I searched too," he says, "I really did." Tango rubs his fingers across Zed's cheek. His skin is warm against Zed's. It always is.

"We know," Tango replies. Impulse hums, nodding against his head. They're not going to talk about Tango and Impulse. Zed- He doesn't need to know the arguments between them. How Tango gave up on this moment. It's not something he needs to worry about. Right now, they're together. They're holding Zedaph in their arms and it doesn't even feel real.

"I don't want to lose you guys again." Zedaph's voice breaks, lost hands clutching at them. "I feel like I'm going to wake up and-"

"You're not," Impulse promises. "We're going to be right here."

"You're not getting rid of us." Tango wipes away the dampness on Zed's eyelashes before it can spill over once more. "Like, you're going to wish you could get rid of us kinda 'not getting rid of us'." That gets Zed to laugh again and they both smile at the sound. Zed closes his eyes with a gentle sigh.

"I'm so lucky," he decides. "I can't believe it."

"So are we!" Tango exclaims. "I mean- Look at you! Cuddled up between us!"

"Mm, lucky to have me." Zed finishes the sentence with a yawn. Impulse scratches along his hairline again with soft, tired eyes.

"Yeah, we are," he murmurs, sinking down into the cuddle. "Get some sleep, yeah?" Zed hums. He's out like a light. Tango watches him, taking in every change on Zedaph's face. The length of his hair, small scars on his skin. But, much to their delight, he still makes those quiet noises in his sleep. His fingers still twitch. He still seeks out their warmth.

It's only once Tango's certain Zed's sleeping that he looks up, finding Impulse's gaze. Impulse sleepily tilts his head in question. Tango has to think before he speaks, tracing circles into Zed's arm.

"I'm- I'm really sorry, Impulse." Impulse's face opens up in shock.

"Hey, no," he quickly rebuts. "You have nothing to apologise for, Tango." He falls silent for a few seconds and Tango can see him searching for words. He waits for Impulse to speak again. "You did what you had to do to move on. I get it. As much as I wanted to believe, I- I never really expected this day to come, either."

"I guess we were both fools." Impulse laughs, so quiet in their little den.

"Well-" He smiles, the expression natural to them both, "-Nothing's changed then, has it?"

"I guess not." Tango rubs Zedaph's cheek once more, finally able to relax into the hold. There will be time in the future.

They've got so much more time than they thought they did.

[writing-the-end]

Exodus- Part 6

Previous Part

An Edolas Hermit Story (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Impulse wakes up in strange places, but surrounded by familiar faces. Not all of them welcome. But these people are not like the villains and heroes he knows from Hermitland. They’re different, and he can’t tell what’s real and what’s false.

_______________________________________

I know a lot of you can’t wait to see Impulse, Tango, and Zed meet, but I just have to make the tension a little higher before we get that wonderful reunion! 

Also, if you like my writing check out my story Wandering Stars! It’s a novel sized story with D&D like action and a few wayward trips to the world of the Hermits by our three adventurers! Check out Chapter 1 Here!

Warning: This story contains general dark elements and language. Blood and needle warning for this part. 

________________________________________

Impulse gasps to reality, finally escaping the inky darkness of sleep. He’s been trying to wake up for...well, he can’t tell how long. Hours? Days? Weeks? But it felt like he was walking through sludge, worse than wading across water to get to where he is now. Impulse’s eyes dart around the room, taking everything in. Every sense is wild and alive. 

The room is small, only a few beds lined against the wall. Pure white walls, white sheets, white everything nearly blinds Impulse against the harsh fluorescent lights. It smells just as sterile as it looks, a hint of cleaning supplies and saline in the air. Beside Impulse, he can hear the steady, but rising beeps of his own heartbeat. A screen shows the constant rise and fall, each peak and trough growing in frequency as Impulse gathers more information about the world around him. He follows the grey cord from the heart rate monitor, down to his right arm. 

It’s there he also sees the other line tying him down. A thin needle beneath his skin, clear liquid dripping from a bag held above his head. The beeping of the monitor rises to frenzied pace, Impulse grabbing at the IV tube in his arm and ripping it free of his skin. He holds down the bloody pinprick, leaping from his bed. His right foot becomes entangled in the cords all around his bed, tugging on the white bandages that match the ones wrapped securely around his arms. He collapses, finding that the floor is becoming quite familiar to him. Impulse finally rips the heart rate monitor off his finger, the incessant beeping filling his head even after it stops. 

Impulse needs to get out of here. Wherever here is, nothing is good about it. It looks too much like Bastion Towers. Where he was held, put through that horrible rehabilitation. Wounded and weak, Impulse struggles to his feet and limps to the doorway. He needs to get out of here, figure out where the hell he is. Is this the End? Or...has he met his own end? Is the afterlife supposed to be this painful? 

He reaches a bloody hand for the door’s handle, but it moves before he can touch it. Bursting open, he sees two faces he never wanted to see ever again. 

Doc and Cub. Their foreheads are creased with wrinkles, eyes glimmering with worry until they rest on Impulse. Cub steps forward. “Thank goodness you’re finally awake, kidd-” 

Cub narrowly dodges as a metal tray is flung at his head. The stranger collapses backwards, grabbing anything within his reach and flinging it at Cub and Doc. The latter yelps, taking cover behind a filing cabinet. Cub dares to press forward, despite the screaming and projectiles. “No! No, I won’t let you take me back! Get away from me!” 

“Wha- hold on kid what are you talking about?” Cub pauses, confused. Just short enough time for the stranger to get his hands on a thin scalpel. He shakes as he brandishes the medical tool, blood pouring from where he had ripped the IV drip out. The white bandages on his other arm are stained with bright red blood, new bruises already beginning to appear. It was the crashing noise that alerted them to the trouble within the infirmary. 

Cub steps forward, but Impulse swings the sharp knife, and he immediately backs off. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Impulse knows it. Cub is playing with him, pretending to be his friend. Lull him into a false sense of security. This is the man that chased him through that damned forest, tracked him down like a wild animal. There’s a lapse of silence between the two, neither moving in the stalemate. 

Until Doc peeks his head out from behind the cabinets. “Is everything safe to-” 

He ducks back in as the stranger cries out, throwing the scalpel in Doc’s direction and retreating. He starts to clamber onto the beds like a feral cat, jumping for the high windows of the guild’s infirmary. Doc covers his ears at the sound of glass shattering, and Cub grunting from beyond his hiding spot. “Xisuma! Help!”

Xisuma careens into the room, crashing into the doorframe to reach the cry for help as soon as possible. He looks across the infirmary, at the scene before him. Doc is hiding behind a cabinet, and the room looks like a tornado has blown through it. Cub and the stranger are in the center of the room, surrounded by shards of broken glass. Cub is yelling, begging for the stranger to stop, that he’s only going to hurt himself more. But the patient won’t listen. 

“Xisuma! We need to sedate him before he hurts himself more!” Cub calls, holding down the kid’s arms before yelping as the frenzied stranger bites him. Xisuma slides across the floor, pulling out a syringe filled with green liquid. Cub notices the neon sedative as Xisuma flicks bubbles free of it. “Not the experimental one you made on the way here!”

The mad scientist pouts, but puts the fun syringe aside for a more mundane, more boring method. Cub holds down the stranger, his face creased with worry and even a few tears in his eyes. Why is this kid so terrified that he was willing to jump out a window to make an escape? Xisuma lends his free hand, holding the struggling patient still and letting the syringe pinch into his skin. 

Impulse’s screams seem to fall on deaf ears, trying to escape the grasp that Cub and Xisuma have on him. Holding him down, preventing him from escape. They did it. They finally caught him, pressing his shoulders and arms against the cold tile floors. Impulse feels hot tears sting at his eyes, watching as he grabs at the labcoat on Xisuma. Trying to rip his hand off the syringe in Impulse’s shoulder. But it does nothing, and he feels his mind grow cloudy as the needle is pulled away from his body. 

His hand, bloody from glass and the IV drip, slips away from Xisuma’s white coat. It leaves a red stain down the burnt and tattered fabric. The weight of his limbs feel like ten tons of rock, and the voices around him drift in and out of clarity. “I don’t know what’s going on...he hurt himself trying to get…what is going on?”

What is going on? 

----------------------------------------------------

Ren sips his tea, much quieter than the slurping noise that his friend Grian makes as he chugs the last of his warm drink. Ren sighs, closing his book and stretching out his arms on the bed in front of him. He kneads the warm white blanket before standing. “I’ll get us another mug.” 

“Can you get a new one for him?” Grian picks up the mug, completely full with now lukewarm tea. If he were this stranger in the bed, he’d want a warm cup of tea when he woke up. 

Ren smiles, taking all three cups out of the infirmary and to a kettle of boiling water. He quietly dumps the cold tea down the drain, watching the tea extract flush away. What a waste of tea, but he understands Grian’s concern. He hums to himself as he lets the warm drinks steep, adding in the honey and sugar to an exact amount that both he and Grian enjoy. He can only guess for the stranger.

When Ren returns with three full mugs of steaming hot tea, Grian is talking. Not to himself- the stranger is awake. Grian’s soft voice and even softer attitude has managed to keep the patient in bed, though Ren can read his body language well enough. The stranger is tense, about ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice. He makes his presence known to both of them, walking over slowly and setting down the drinks. Ren flicks his tail to the side, taking a seat next to Grian. 

“Would you like some tea?” Grian whispers, offering the warm mug to the kid. He’s hardly even able to sit up, reattached to an IV but pale from all his wounds. For a second, the stranger only looks at the mug with a withering gaze, but eventually takes the hot drink. He holds it close, watching the drink for a minute. He finally drinks. “I’m Grian, and my feline friend here is Ren.” 

Ren nods, picking up his notebook and scribbling down in the paper. He’s been keeping a ledger of notes since the stranger appeared, promising to give it to Cub later on. The first thing that Ren noted was that the patient has a trigger with certain people- specifically, the very person who rescued him, as well as Doc and X. He can’t help but wonder why. “What’s your name, stranger?” 

“I-” Impulse pauses, looking down at his drink. Should he be trusting these two people? When he woke up, Grian was immediately pressing him back into  bed. For such a short stature and seemingly diminutive nature, Grian was strong. But the gentle voice of the man with the bow tie, his calm face and soft touch eased him into a jaded calm. He’s not even sure if he should trust the tea the two gave him. It could be drugged- it could have tiny robots from Cub to reinstate the redstone tracking with him. But the tea felt good on his lips, warming his cold, pale body. “I’m Impulse.” 

Saying his name aloud felt like he was signing his own arrest warrant. Surely now Xisuma and Cub would come barging in, dragging him back to rehabilitation- or somewhere much worse. But Grian and Ren glance at each other, sharing some silent conversation with only their eyes. Glimmers of words, facial twitches as sentences. Grian turns back, and lifts a tub of cookies. “Are you hungry? You look like you could use some sugar.” 

“Wh-where am I?” Impulse questions, carefully plucking a cookie and nibbling on it. 

“Well...you’re in our guild’s infirmary.” Grian taps his finger, setting a few cookies aside for some of the others. Cub and Xisuma really deserve a treat, they’ve been moping since the last time Impulse woke up. 

Speak of the devil, Xisuma quietly opens the door to check in. Holding a clipboard of notes, he immediately cringes upon seeing Impulse awake. Impulse also reacts to Xisuma’s arrival, his heart rate monitor skyrocketing as he scrambles in his bed to get as far away from the new arrival as possible. Ren rests a firm but soft hand on Impulse’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Impulse, he won’t hurt you. He’s our friend, he’s here to help.” 

“But...but General X…” Impulse stutters out, eyes never wavering from Xisuma as he carefully walks closer. 

Xisuma sits down a few feet away, offering space for the stranger. He immediately starts scribbling notes, chicken scratch handwriting noting what Ren called the patient. Impulse. Xisuma’s head runs at a thousand kilometers per hour, before he finally realizes what is happening. An ecstatic spark gleams in Xisuma’s eyes, the mad in ‘mad scientist’ bubbling forward. “You aren’t from this world.” 

Both Ren and Grian give Xisuma a confused look. What the hell is he talking about? Different worlds? He’s completely lost it. But Impulse seems to catch on, and offers a short nod. If Ren remembers something about the Impulse they had before, he was quick to catch onto just about everything put in front of him. “What are you talking about, X?”

Xisuma pushes his hair back, giving an excited grin. Impulse doesn’t rest from his coiled perch, eyes never leaving Xisuma in the chair nearby. He looks just like General Xisuma- but also nothing like him. His eyes show no sign of malice, though they are a bit wild. In fact, both of his eyes are still in working order. “Wha-what is this world called?” 

“Edolas. I can’t believe it- you are true proof that other worlds exist!” Impulse squeaks as Xisuma hops his chair closer, putting more distance between himself and the strange version of Xisuma before him. “What is your world called? Are there other versions of us there as well? What about-” 

“Whoa, too much man.” Ren pats Xisuma on the back, pushing him back to his seat with a flick of his bushy brown cat tail. Xisuma realizes he’s scaring Impulse, and shrinks back himself. He hated seeing the fear in the stranger’s eyes when they had to sedate him. He felt like a horrible person, a villain. But Impulse was only going to hurt himself more if he and Cub didn’t do something. 

Ren pulls Xisuma away, handing off a folded note with a whisper in his ear. Impulse can only watch as Xisuma reads the note, glancing back up his way. There’s hurt in X’s eyes, the wild mop of brown hair tugged on by a scarred hand. But Xisuma nods to Ren, and creeps closer. Much slower, as calm as the mad scientist can be. “I just want to help, Impulse. Can I replace your IV drip?”

“What’s in there?” Impulse snaps, looking at the saline bag hanging above him. Is it some sort of sedative? A mind altering drug? 

“It’s okay, Impulse.” Grian whispers, placing a warm and gentle hand on Impulse’s shaking fingers. “I promise, our friend here is a really nice guy.” He bites his lip, before adding on. “Once you get past his...ah, erratic behavior.” 

Impulse glances at Xisuma, noting the crooked smile this Edolas Xisuma offers him. Erratic is the last thing he could call General Xisuma. But he nods, his eyes never wavering from X as he exchanges the nearly empty bag for a full one. Grian and Ren smile, their calm auras putting both Xisuma and Impulse at ease. 

Ren hands off a cookie to Xisuma as he leaves, a note scribbled on the napkin that it sits on. Grian stays near Impulse, helping him relax and fall back to a healing sleep. What this time has shown Ren is one thing- this Impulse from another world fears three people above all. Doc, Xisuma, and Cub. 

He can’t help but wonder why them? Doc and Cub are two of the sweetest people in their guild, and while Xisuma is a little strange his heart is always in the right place. They’re some of the best people in the guild. 

So what were these backwards, villainous versions of their friends like? How was it so bad that even just seeing their faces could bring such terror, no matter how irrational such a thought is? What has this strange new Impulse been through?

[rendiggitydog]

The gang’s all here!

"Welcome every-hermit! To the annual Partner Problem event! This is our first year getting everyone to play, so welcome!" X smiled as the crowd of hermits below him cheered. "I'll explain the rules for the newbies."

"I will draw two names out of a helmet. Those two people will be fitted with curse of binding boots, which magically link the pair. These boots will force you to stay within 3 meters, or 10 feet, of each other. You will wear the boots for 24 hours, and then the spell will dissolve. Make sense?"

Heads bobbed in agreement.

"Then let's begin!" X picked up the helmet at his feet, shuffling the papers inside. "Zedaph..."

Zed jumped, excitedly looking around for who his partner might be.

"...and Welsknight!"

There were assorted congratulations as Wels and Zed found each other, grinning excitedly.

"Alright, quiet down! Next up: Tango and Iskall!"

Laugher and groans. The two pranksters high-fived, already whispering mischievously.

"Stress and Grian! False and Jevin! Scar and Python!" X rattled off the names, each greeted with excitement. "Me and Cub! Cleo and Mumbo! Impulse and Joe! Docm and biffa! Rendog and TFC! And that's everyone! Line up to get your boots, and thanks for coming out!" X glided down from his make-shift pedestal, throwing open a chest full of glowing leather boots.

The hermits filed through with their partners, pulling on their new boots and testing the limits. Slowly, the plateau emptied, everyone heading their ways for the day.

—

"Work with me here, love!" Stress laughed, trying to pull Grian away from the store window.

"Sorry! They made a new tnt, and this one is player-friendly!" Grian hopped up, beaming as he returned to Stress' side.

"We can check it out after I return Impulse's backup elytra he let me borrow. It's been a couple weeks and I need to return them!"

"What ho, and salutations!" Joe waved as he and Impulse appeared over the ridge.

"Hi Joe! Impulse! How are you doing?"

"Really well! We're taking turns picking the pass time, so it's been fine."

"We were just on our way to Impulse's home behind the sea foam." Joe gestured in the direction of Impulse's bay area.

"How delightful! Well, I just wanted to return your elytra I borrowed. Thanks again!" Stress handed over the wings, which Impulse accepted gratefully.

"I was wondering where I left those, thanks!"

"Okay, can we go look at the tnt now?" Grian shifted back and forth, glancing back at the tnt.

"Fine. As long as we can go ice mining later for my castle." Stress threw a humorous look at Joe and Impulse as Grian rushed back to the storefront. "Bye!"

"Those two must be having a ball." Joe remarked as he and Impulse calmly continued their stroll.

—

"So this is the vault, huh?" Ren gaped as TFC led him down.

"Sure is."

"Wow... It's so big..."

"Thanks, I've put a lot of time into it."

"Tin, how did you find the time to do all this?" Ren peeked through a door, taking everything in.

"I've just cracked down and worked hard, that's all." TFC pulled some stone out of a chest without slowing his walk, heading for the next room he needed to finish.

"Woah, that was slick! You didn't even stop walking, you just grabbed that stone, like Whoosh!" Ren exclaimed, swooping his hand through the air.

"Oh, you know it. This way."

The large vault narrowed to a corridor, which the two squeezed through, reaching a decent-sized room, half excavated. Tin set right to work, mining at the wall with one hand and picking up the stone with the other. The older man relaxed in his element, killing a zombie without hesitation when it crept up on him. Ren simply watched in awe at the grace. He was startled out of his trance, however, when TFC tugged on their binding boots.

"I gotta put some stuff away, come on."

Ren followed slowly. "That was crazy. Like, you were just mining, but it was like a dance! Does that make sense? We don't need to go to my base later, we can just stay here for all 24 hours! Can I help?"

Tin rubbed his temples as he tossed the last of the stone in a chest. "You can have the most important job of all."

Ren perked up. "The most important?!"

"Hold these." Tin shoved a bunch of shulker boxes into his arms.

TFC set back to work, tossing the stone into the boxes as he went. Ren didn't mind holding the stone- he was just glad to be part of the process.

"This is fantastic! Why don't we hang out more often? You're so cool Tin!" Ren babbled on in excitement over the menial labor.

"Hey Ren-" TFC quickly cut in. "If you don't talk, I'll do something cool."

Ren gasped loudly, and sealed his lips. Tin shook his head, silently laughing as he dual-wielded a second pickaxe, blowing Ren's mind.

—

Well hullo!" Cleo and Mumbo waved as they approached Scar and Python. The two were sitting in the grass outside Scar's terraforming shop, flower crowns and necklaces all around them.

"Heya! How are you two?" Scar greeted as Mumbo and Cleo sat next to them.

"Pretty good! Neither of us had a whole lot to do, so we're visiting everyone else. What are you doing?" Cleo picked at the grass.

"We've been making flower chains! Wanna learn how?" Python displayed the chain he was currently working on.

"Absolutely!"

The four hermits soaked up the sun as they weaved flower crowns, half-asleep from its warmth and sweet aroma. At some point, False and Jevin stumbled by, tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

"How's it going?" Scar giggled, already knowing the answer.

"Could be better-" False wheezed, wiping her tears. "May we-?"

Jevin and False tripped over each other and collapsed in a pile of giggles. The group talked and laughed for hours, while the sun slowly fell. The stars twinkled into sight, and they fell asleep stargazing.

—

"Alright," Tango breathed. Iskall nodded, and they slowly dipped their wings in sync. After practicing all day, they were finally coordinated enough to cause some mischief.

Two glowing dots walked the grounds outside the newest ConCorp studio- two hermits holding torches in the night.

"Cub and X?" Iskall whispered into the dark. Tango nodded, pulling out a stack of eggs.

"Ready... GO!"

Cackling loudly, Iskall and Tango pelted the ground with eggs, watching X and Cub dance away from them. One figure glanced up, spotting the pair in the air, and shook their fist dramatically.

"You're not even Poultry man!" X's voice called after them, but they were already flying away.

"Fan-frickin-tastic!" Iskall howled.

"They thought we were poultry man!" Tango slapped his leg. The wild excitement distracted him, and Tango wobbled before plummeting to the earth.

"Gah!!" Iskall spammed rockets, desperate to stay in the air. However, Tango's limp body dragged him down, and the two splashed into the water violently. The sounds of drowneds instantly lit a fire under them, and they paddled tiredly to the shore.

"Hehe, worth it." Iskall wiped his hair from his face, sand getting everywhere.

Tango panted as he collapsed on the sand. "Absolutely."

—

"Huzzah!" Zedaph triumphantly held up the blue parrot. He and Wels had been searching the jungle for hours, and this was the first bird they found. They were tired and bruised, but it was worth it.

"Did you hear that?" Wels whispered.

Zed rolled his eyes. "For the last time, Wels, it was probably an ocelot. We can sail home if you'd feel better about it?"

"Yes please!" Wels sighed in relief as they made their way to the shore. The rustle of leaves behind them made Wels jump again. "Let's go." He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled out a boat.

"SNEAK ATTACK!" Doc and Biffa lunged from the bushes, diamond swords drawn. Their armor and faces were coated with mud and leaves, their binding boots streaked with war paint. Somebody screeched (cough Zedaph) and everything happened all at once.

Suddenly, the attack was over as soon as it started. Biffa ran too far ahead of Doc, and the two tumbled into the sand at Zed's feet.

Doc looked up bashfully, his helmet falling from his head. "Fancy meeting you here.."

Zed blinked. "...Well now I don't think this is a coincidence, us meeting in the jungle like this, you crying Sneak Attack!! But okay!" Zed laughed, releasing his tension.

"I suppose our mission was a failure, then?" Biffa sighed with a grin.

"I suppose so- but you did scare Wels pretty well!" Zed patted Wels on the head, as he had fallen over in his freight.

"I told you so!!"

[writing-the-end]

Exodus- Part 7

Previous Part

An Edolas Hermit Story (AU by @theguardiansofredland )

It’s all too good to be true. The kindness that has welcomed Impulse in this strange Edolas world. How much he wants to believe them, how much he fears being tricked again. How much he fears being alone again, even when he runs from company. 

---------------------------------------------------------

I love a good hurt/comfort, but how about we turn that on it’s head, and give comfort/hurt? FINALLY team ZIT is back together! Only one more part after this, one more part to this story that I’m honored to share. All of these ideas are the creation of Red, from the Edolas characters to the bottle scene, he’s really a clever mind! And I love them! 

Warning: This story contains general dark elements and language.

____________________________________

Impulse has to get out of here. Despite everything around him, all the people around him only offering kindness and calm, Impulse just knows this isn’t right. This has to be some kind of trick, some sort of ploy by the city. None of this is real- not the gentle nature of Cub and Doc, not the quirky scientist that’s become of Xisuma. It’s all fake, it has to be. 

This time, Impulse is smarter about his escape. He removes the needle as carefully as it had been replaced. He wonders who did that- was it this strange Xisuma? Or someone else he’s yet to meet? Impulse also turns off the monitor before removing the clasp around his finger. It’s nighttime, and Impulse is banking on the fact that no one is keeping watch at his bedside to make his escape. 

He messed up. This isn’t the End. According to this weird version of X, they call their world Edolas. That’s not where he was supposed to be. He wants to be in the End, far away from anything and everyone. Just another lost item among the void. Impulse creeps along the hospital floor, resting his hand on the cold metal door handle. In the darkness, the white of his bandages are like beacons, and the haggard white shirt he still wears practically declares where he is. 

Impulse quietly opens the door, looking down the short hall. There’s a door at the other end, and through that window he can see a waiting room. That’s his escape. Impulse scurries across the hall, opening the door and shutting it quickly. 

He’s not alone in the lounge. In the corner, two forms whisper to one another. The lights are off in the building, making it hard to see who they are. But Impulse doesn’t need to see them to know- he can hear their voices. 

“Our prayers have been answered, it’s really him.” Zedaph whispers, looking up to see his friend’s face. 

Tango flutters his angelic white wings, feathers ruffling together. “As much as I don’t want to believe it… he looks like him. He called himself Impulse. Our wishes actually worked.” 

The two turn their heads as they hear a sniffle, peering into the darkness. A pale, thin form stands at the door into the infirmary, eyes welling with tears. He looks like a ghost, and for a minute Tango really thinks that’s what he is. But the broken voice as Impulse speaks is all too real. “T-tango? Zed?”

Impulse stumbles towards them, his legs giving out beneath him. Tango crosses the distance in a few short strides, grabbing hold of Impulse before he can find himself on the floor all over again. Once he’s regained his strength, Tango steps away. Taking in the sight before him. Zedaph steps between the angel and the stranger, staring at him.

It truly looks like their Impulse. That wisping brown hair, ruled by a cowlick that always makes his hair look like he just woke up from a long slumber. A sharp nose set between inquisitive eyes, thin lips hiding dimples between each cheek. Just a little bit taller than Zedaph, and the palest of the three. 

All three have tears in their eyes, welling and falling across their cheeks. All three, going through the same thought process. Is it really them? They thought they’d never see the other again. The silence prolongs, unspoken questions shared among each face. 

Zed steps forward, daring to break the distance between himself and the ghost before him. He reaches out, placing a shaking hand to rest on Impulse’s cheek. The room goes quiet, Impulse shrinking away from physical contact. But, after a second, he can’t hold back. He leans into the warm, comforting touch of his long lost friend’s hand. 

Tango’s hand reaches up to cover his mouth, agape as all three finally lock eyes, and realize what they see is real. They’re really there, it’s not some horrible nightmare or a ghost. Impulse reaches up, taking a light hold on Zed’s hand as his eyes rove across Tango. Zed’s hand reaches up, grabbing hold of his chest, trying to be still the leaping of his heart. “Impulse?”

Cascading streams streak down their cheeks, all three collapsing into each other’s arms and to the floor. Crying and bundling close. The gang is finally back together, the unstoppable trio, shattered and glued back together through sheer will, prayer, and luck. Massive white wings, plumaged with soft feathers wrap around the other two, holding them into a hug. Whispers of disbelief and relief mutter across the darkness, punctuated by sniffles and short bursts of laughter. 

For Tango and Zedaph, it’s every wish, every prayer finally answered. Impulse has returned to them. Years and years of mourning, of wondering how they could possibly fix what they did wrong, and now he’s finally in their arms again. They can finally see his smile, the warmth of his laughter. They were a set, three pieces. And without the last one, they were incomplete. 

For Impulse, it’s a dream too good to be true. That Tango and Zed also escaped the city, made it to this strange new world like him. After being forced to leave them, to go on when they were separated. To abandon them, they are actually here. He can finally watch Zed’s excitement bubble up from his tapping feet to his bouncing curls, Tango’s cautious but excitable eyes light up with a new idea. He was alone, left without his best friends. 

For a brief moment, everything was right for Impulse. Nothing else but his friends mattered. Until small cracks in his joy began to appear, the voices in his head telling him none of this is true. Its all a lie, a farce. Suddenly the small details become huge. Tango never had angel wings. He was from the nether. Zed wore clothes he’d never be caught dead in, looking more like some prophet or preacher than the fellow engineer. 

This isn’t real. Impulse’s grip loosens, and he pushes away from the hug. This is too good to be true, too wrong to be right. He scrabbles away from the two, leaving their arms reaching out for him as he presses his back against the wall. This is all fake, a farce. A trick, more of the city’s way of messing with his mind. The same way he can’t have escaped- there is no escape. That the Xisuma he’s met isn’t really real, it’s all just another horrible trick, a conspiracy. 

Tango reaches out, palm up and offering for Impulse to take. A pact with a ghost. Impulse stands, swaying as the blood rushes from his head. “You… you’re not real. This isn’t real.” 

“Wait, Impulse!” Zed slips as he tries to stand, falling over on Tango’s wing. But it’s too late- Impulse is gone. 

He escapes through the door, stumbling outside into the moonlight. The full moon is bright, illuminating the dark streets as if floodlights shine from the sky. Impulse hops over a hedge line, taking off towards the hills. Back to running, trying to escape this nightmare. Will he ever stop running?

He’s not sure if he can. He’s already limping, before he’s even made it into the hills. Impulse scrabbles up gravel and stone, trying to ignore the voices calling out for him. Ignoring Zed’s voice, the crack in his cries for him to return. Ignoring the wing beats of Tango’s plumage, until both disappear over the mountains. And it’s just him again. 

Alone again. The adrenaline in Impulse’s body falls away, and the aching pain of his wounds rise up. His sprint turns to a limp, the cold mountain air burning his lungs and the bandages on his ankle and arm starting to fall apart. Far from the town, from the illusions and the tricks played on his mind. But out here, he’s just lept from one danger to another. He may be free from prying eyes and ears, but he’s exposed. Out in the open, the cold wind biting on his skin and the distant sound of monsters shrieking ever closer. 

Impulse stumbles, but catches himself on a rock ledge. He’s not going to fall. Not again. Freezing snow nips at his exposed arms, turning his skin blue and leaving his body shivering. He needs to find shelter. He needs to keep going. He can’t ever stop. He can’t last out in the cold. Each step becomes smaller, slower. He’s just shuffling through the snow, moving forward the only thing on his mind. 

The further away from people he gets, the further away from their tricks. He knew this was all too good to be true. He can’t have escaped, he can’t have found his friends. There was nothing for Impulse anywhere. No place for a mind like his, curiosity beyond what’s natural. Seeing monsters in the shadows, ghosts in the darkness. There was no place he could trust, no one he could trust. Not even the warm, inviting hugs and welcoming tears of his friends. It was too good to be true. 

Impulse staggers into a small cave, hand running along the cold stone outcroppings. He hops down a few levels, until the wind has abated and just the damp cavern air grips at his warmth. Impulse slides down the wall, holding his knees close to try and keep in the last vestiges of warmth. His head tips back, watching his breath turn to a million ice fractals in the air. He knew that wasn’t really Tango and Zed. Not that things were too perfect- no, they were too imperfect. Strange, characterized versions of his friends. It was a trick, another way for General X, Doc, and Cub to play with him. None of this must be real. Not the kind faces of Doc and Cub, not the quirky mad scientist of Xisuma. Not the angelic Tango, or the zealous Zed. 

But how much he wanted it to be true. How much he just wanted to let the lies become real. That these were the same friends he left behind, that somehow they were here. Reincarnated, brought to this world they call Edolas. And he’d be fine with that, letting himself just become a part of this strange Edolas world. To be...Edolas Impulse. 

But he knows he can’t let that happen. He can’t let himself fall from the last ounce of sanity he has left. He can’t let himself be tricked, by anyone else. Even himself. Those aren’t his friends, this isn’t his world. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t belong anywhere. 

Impulse shivers, head growing light and body suddenly becoming warm. His eyes droop, until he can’t stay awake anymore.

[writing-the-end]

Exodus- Part 2

Previous Part

An Edolas Hermit AU story (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Impulse, Tango, and Zed are vying for freedom out of Hermitland. But first they must get through the great walls of the city, and whatever waits beyond. What they don’t know is that their plan has already been discovered. 

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Part Two? Part Two! I’m so glad people are enjoying this story, I just can’t wait to share it all with you! Red’s story is so incredible, I don’t think my writing can do it justice.

Warning: This story contains general dark elements and language

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Impulse grabs the nearest thing he could find, a redstone torch, wielding it as he hears footsteps moving down the tunnels. Zed and Tango have been taking way too long. Surely they’ve been caught by Cub, seen leaving the underground. By now, they’re probably in the rehab center, undergoing the same horrible ‘therapy’ that he had to endure. And now? Now Xisuma has sent guards to retrieve Impulse. Or perhaps just to take him out for good. 

So when the two figures round the corner into the team’s hideaway, he swings the torch with all his might. He’s not exactly strong, though, which is why Tango easily grabs hold of the other end, ignoring the electrifying feeling of holding the redstone end of the torch. This isn’t the first time Impulse has freaked himself out to the point of becoming reactionary. “Guess that means you don’t want what we brought you then.” 

Impulse immediately lets go of the torch, relief spreading across his face and body as he sees the cool smile of Tango, the bouncy joy of Zed. They haven’t been captured, they look just fine. “I’m just glad you’re back. How was it above?” 

“We went to your apartment!” Zed pulls something out of his bag, holding it out for Impulse to see. At first, Impulse has to rub his eyes, just to be sure he’s seeing what is in Zed’s hand. His fingertips are just barely able to curl around the brass wall, the moon beginning to rise towards its peak. Almost midnight. The redstone clockwork is shoddy at best, the gears and lines easy to hear within the device. But for Impulse, it’s his most prized possession. 

He built this clock when he decided he wanted to be a redstone engineer. It was his first time using redstone, or any of that sort of material. It sparked his love for inventing, and put him on the path to the man he is now. It’s the start of everything. 

And to have it now, that Tango and Zed thought to get the clock from his apartment, makes tears well in his eyes. It hurts to gulp, but he tries his best to keep from whimpering like a baby at the thought. “Th-thank you guys.” 

“They ransacked your house. Completely torn apart.” Tango whispers, picking up the mess that Impulse had left behind while they were gone. “But luckily it only got dented. Young Impulse was thinking to use brass instead of the usual gold.” 

“Young Impulse definitely didn’t have access to gold. I don’t think current Impulse does either.” He laughs awkwardly, running his finger over the dial on the clock. Xisuma’s guards must’ve been looking for information, evidence against Impulse and the underground. He knows they found nothing. He’s smarter than that. The clock ticks under Impulse’s touch, the moon drawing nearer to its apogee. They need to leave before sunrise. “Where you guys followed?”

“We were fine. Not a soul saw us.” Zed waves off Impulse’s concern, playing catch with an apple then taking a hefty bite from the fruit. 

“Are you sure? They have eyes everywhere, Cub could’ve seen you. He could’ve followed you.” Impulse glances around, as if someone else could suddenly appear in the cave they call their hideout. 

“We were careful.” Tango nods, pulling up his multitool. The same tool that sent the coding to cut Impulse’s noose. “I used the jamming signal you came up with to keep drones from coming near us.” 

Impulse breathes a sigh of relief. He knows that signal works, so he knows his friends are right. They weren’t followed. “Then let's get going. Before someone does start to follow us.” 

“Let’s blow this popstand!” Zed cheers, shoving the apple into his mouth and shrugging his backpack over his shoulder. He bounces in his shoes, blonde hair curling and bouncing across his eyes. “Come on come on come on! No time to waste! The next time we see the sun, it’ll be with the sweet taste of freedom!” 

Tango and Impulse can’t help but smile, Zed’s enthusiasm contagious. They can hear him humming down the tunnels, footsteps skipping and echoing down the road. Tango ruffles Impulse’s hair, forcing his cowlick over his eyes and making it almost impossible to see. When he parts the unruly chocolate hair, Tango is giving him a coy wink. “Last one to the safehouse is a sticky piston!” 

Tango takes off, gilded hair wisping across the horns. Impulse chases after him, grabbing the small bag of his own supplies and stumbling out of their cave. He chases after Zed and Tango, laughing as Zed trips in between skips. He never stops humming, even as he nearly faceplants into the cracked concrete. Tango hardly stops, long lanky legs eloping by and picking Zed up by the scruff like a kitten. Tango was so much taller than others, stood out so much more than any other person in Hermitland. It’s what made him different, it’s what made him awesome. When other people would be nervous with a demon from the nether sitting next to them in class, it was Impulse’s favorite thing. No one dared pick on him and his threadbare clothes at school when Tango’s red eyes would glare them away, his tail flicking menacingly. 

Zed scrabbles up the ladder, into the cool midnight air. The trio can see the wall as they sneak free of the forgotten tunnels, closing the trapdoor hidden beneath a massive, leafy bush. Tango remembers to brush a branch over the mulch, scrambling the chips to clear off the disturbance of the three climbing out. 

The lights of this street have been broken for years, always put to the wayside of maintenance logs in lieu of work for the more affluent neighborhoods. But the people who have claimed this part of the city as home, the farmers and hard working families find joy in the darkness. The freedom that Zed, Tango, and Impulse feel to walk down the streets. Zed and Tango dance and chase after one another, blowing off the steam of excitement. They’re finally escaping. 

But for Impulse, it’s his first time above ground since he was hanged. He’s slower than the others, taking in each deep breath of the cool night air. Fresh, crisp, of the city taking a quiet sigh of relief from the hassle of the day. The moon is in gibbous, nearly full and gazing a single eye down at the world. Stars glitter and shine across the canvas of the night sky. Moonlight wasn’t harsh like the sun. It didn’t burn or scathe against skin the way that electric shocks ran across Impulse’s skin, it didn’t blind him like the harsh lights when he was interrogated. It was a nurturing light, relief from the scathing truth of the day. 

Impulse closes his eyes, stretching his arms out and feeling the night air surrounding him. Lies spoken in the day, illusions under the sun become shadows in the night, transparent and weak. The quiet hush of the night is when truths are whispered, when reasonable voices are able to be heard while the shouting crowd is fast asleep. Impulse always got his best work done at night. Impulse learned the truth at night. 

In the darkness of the night, none of them notice the stealthy drone zooming it’s lense in on the basking boy. They don’t see the antenna rise up, pointing towards Bastion Towers. 

“Come on, mate! You can take a deep breath once we’re beyond the wall!” Zed whispers in Impulse’s ear, tugging him down the silent, open road. All the way to the safehouse. A decrepit little shack, nondescript at best. Even when they enter the toolshed, nothing looks out of the ordinary. Not until Zed picks up a wooden hoe from the racks of stone and iron tools. Beneath their feet, the wood floor slips away to reveal a small tunnel. The boys hop in, dirt falling into their hair as they crawl through the low tunnel. Crawling through the tight quarters, trying not to bump into each other or the wall. Tango has it worst, his horns digging into the tunnel’s soil roof each time he leans back. 

They reach the wall, gazing at all their hard work. The wall wasn’t pure concrete, and with each stratified layer they picked away, they had to figure out a whole different solution to a whole new problem. They picked away at thick concrete, filed down metal rebar, rerouted electrical currents, disarmed alarms, even cut through a whole sheet of metal that sat at the center of the wall. All that, until they reached the other side. Right in front of Impulse, they only needed to dig out a few more shovels full of dirt. Unfortunately, freedom was put on hold when Impulse was captured. 

But now, the boys can finally pick away the last of what separates them from freedom. To finally be able to escape the city, to finally have done what no one else thought was possible. Zed and Tango squeeze on each side of Impulse, pulling the spades they have handy. And together, the three dig the dirt away. Dirt falls and is flung over their shoulders, getting between their teeth and onto their white shirts. But none of them care.

Especially when Zed’s shovel breaks through grass, digging through the roots and pushing into open air. When he pulls it back, the ground crumbles around it. 

They can see the moon on the other side. Unobstructed, save for a distant birch forest across the plains. No buildings, no walls, no streetlights or drones or guards. But there is life. Grass spreads out in all directions, a sea of green visible in the burrow the boys have dug out. Flowers dance quietly in the moonlight, brushed by wind that carries wayward leaves from far away trees. Tango was the first to find his voice. “It’s all real. We did it.” 

Impulse’s mind is tethered to the freedom before him, but gets dragged back to the dystopia behind him when he hears the sound of a door slam. Wooden, hitting something so hard that the lumber cracks and the hinges snap. His stomach and throat tighten up as the sound recalls a not too distant memory. The memory of his door being kicked open, armed guards breaking down his entrance to hunt him down. The sound of footsteps in his mind echoes the footsteps he hears at the entrance to their tunnel. 

The hatch at the other end is opened. “They found us! They're here!” 

“We have to go through now!” Zed keeps digging, trying to open the tunnel. It’s hardly even big enough for one person. 

“We have to use the other tunnel! We’re not going to make it through in time. Not all of us.” Tango points down the even smaller crawl space that they built. It was something none of them thought they’d have to use, but Impulse was insistent on. For a case just like this. 

Zed can hear voices, arguing down the dark tunnel. “Impulse can’t stay here. He can’t stay in the city- he’ll surely get captured sooner or later.” 

Zed and Tango both turn, gazing at Impulse with resolute but despondent eyes. A look that sends chills down his spine and fear through his heart. “What are you two-” 

“Come out now before things get grim. I know you're down there. Impulse, I saw you finally came out of your little hole.” A steady, calm voice hollers down the hall. Cub was here. 

Tango and Zed share a glimpse of each other’s plans within their eyes, and turn to Impulse. Simultaneously, they scoot back. Put distance between themselves and Impulse. Tears begin to form at the corner of both their eyes, and Zed’s lip quivers as Tango picks up his shovel. “We’ll see you on the other side, Impulse.” 

Horrible realization shocks through Impulse. He reaches out for his friends, for them to rethink this decision. But Tango has already struck the dirt above them, yanking it free. Soil collapses between them, and rocks fall soon after. Impulse scrambles back, his arm nearly crushed as the stones fall in. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tears hit his hand. He scrabbles against the rocks, digging through the cave in. “No! No, you guys can make it! Don’t leave me!” 

No answer on the other end. Impulse strains to listen. He can hear Zed and Tango retreat, the slow creak of the escape tunnel closing in. They’re already gone, disappearing into the crowd of people. Back into the depths of the city.

But Cub remains. Impulse scurries back as the calm voice speaks through the rocks. “It’s only going to get worse from here, man. We know your every move. We will find you.” 

Panicked breathes escape Impulse’s open lips, his mind a flurry of just about every emotion he can feel. He has to put distance between him and Cub. He needs to run. 

And so he does. Impulse squeezes through the dirt hole, ignoring the grass and mud stains that smear across the white shirt he wears. The ID tag on his arm begins to warm, but he ignores it as he slips into the open field. Impulse clambers to his feet, stumbling into a sprint before he’s even upright. 

But the quiet field isn’t quiet for long. Beneath the red poppies and yellow dandelions, traps have laid in wait. Buried long ago, waiting for the day a foolish hermit decided to try and escape. Impulse vaults free of a snare as it releases, nearly grabbing hold of his leg. A net flings from a buried gun, threatening to weigh Impulse down. 

If the trapped field wasn’t enough, Impulse hears something rise up from the massive blank concrete wall. He knows he shouldn’t look back, but he can’t help his own morbid curiosity. He peeks over his shoulder, and sees something he never even thought existed within Hermitland. 

A door to outside. The concrete walls open up just enough for a black vehicle to slip through. It’s not just Cub that’s after Impulse- Doc stands in the bed of the vehicle,  a thin barrel pointed at Impulse. 

Impulse doesn’t stop running. He can’t outrun Cub or Doc, but he can outmaneuver them. The weapon fires, a dart filled with sloshing liquid burying itself into the ground next to Impulse. It’s not a bullet, thank god, but Impulse knows that if Doc is involved it’s something much worse. The escapee skids to the side, forcing the black vehicle to change direction as he focuses on his goal. 

A forest, just beyond the edge of the plain. Tall, thick birch trees that will be the guardians against the attacking leaders. Barriers for those who wish to keep Impulse from escaping. The hair on Impulse’s head sticks out in all directions, his body electrified as a shock shell detonates beside Impulse. The zapping sound of electricity makes him run all the harder. Flee from what he knows is already awaiting him if Doc gets his hands on Impulse...again. 

Impulse meets the treeline, but he doesn’t stop. When he hears the vehicle screech to a halt, he doesn’t stop. When he hears Doc and Cub yelling, swearing and arguing, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop running until the sound, the sight of the city are long gone. Until his legs give out from under him, and all the emotions spread ruin within him. 

They’re gone. Zed and Tango, they gave up their freedom for him. Forced him to leave them. He’s alone, lost beyond the wall. Everything he’s ever known is now behind him. His entire life, his entire world. Every person he’s ever known, ever seen. 

He’s alone. Lost, on the run. And without the only people he wanted to do this with.

[writing-the-end]

Exodus- Part 4

Previous Chapter

An Edolas Hermit Story (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Impulse has escaped the city, avoided the leaders, but now he’s lost in a world he knows nothing about. And no matter how far he goes, it’s never far enough to stop the feeling of being watched

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LET”s try this again shall we?. Yada yada nods to other games, easter eggs and inspiration. 

But still! CHECK OUT RED HIS WORK IS AMAZING AND HE”S THE FUCKING GENIUS THAT CAME UP WITH THIS. I just put words to paper. Sometimes I do it well. 

Warning: This story contains general dark elements and language

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The hours stretch into days, the sun rising and setting without a clock to tell Impulse when the nights are looming and retreating. He seemed to have lost Xisuma and Cub a while back, but that doesn’t stop him from running. He can’t put enough distance between them and himself. He can’t put enough distance between the city and himself. 

But he knows that with each step away from the bonds of Hermitland, it’s also a step away from the bonds of friendship. Leaving behind Tango and Zed, being forced to continue without them has been some of the worst thoughts that haunt his mind. Are they okay? Were they seen? Does Cub know who they are? Will they be able to escape some other way? Join him beyond the walls? Questions haunt Impulse in the day, and nightmares run wild at night. Nightmares of what horrible experiences they may have to endure, experiences like he went through. Being caught, interrogated, put through rehabilitation. Or worse. 

The worst nightmares aren’t ones of himself being hurt, or his friends being caught. It’s of them forgetting him. Moving on with their lives, giving up on their shared dreams of freedom. Of the classes they’d taken together, the long evenings studying for engineering exams, cool nights on rooftops dreaming of a world beyond the walls. No memory, no recollection of Impulse. No one left to remember, to care about a poor boy with big dreams to help people. 

As Impulse travels through the birch forest, he’s learned not to trust anything. The eyes of the trees, the whispers of the leaves all betray him. The squeaks and howls of animals are distant voices, carrying the message of his location to unwanted ears. Even the sticks on the ground, the grass are traps in disguise. Ensnaring the city boy and making his paranoia grow. Everything is out to get him. Just like in Hermitland. No, because of Hermitland. It’s all a part of the bigger conspiracy. 

If Tango and Zed were here, they’d be able to quell his fears. Prove to his mind and all it’s wayward conclusions that it’s just coincidence. Tango’s skepticism and caution would point out the flaws of Impulse’s fears, the coincidences that break the story. And Zed would have filled in what was left with optimism, truth and guidance to ease away the sharp worries. 

But it’s just Impulse. Alone in the wild, alone in the world. Is there anyone beyond the walls, or is he the only soul out here? Impulse isn’t sure if he could take living alone, like some hermit out here in a forest full of eyes. Full of things waiting to hurt him, waiting to rat him out to things that only want to do him harm. People that only want to do him harm. 

Impulse trips, crashing into the ground. Clumps of grass and dirt stick to his sweaty face, and he spits a leaf out from between his teeth. He twists, looking to see what brought him to his knees. Sunlight filtering through the trees glistens off two metal buttons, blinding Impulse as he stands in the reflected illumination. Impulse creeps closer, looking at what he caught his foot on. 

It’s a doll, a little rag doll not dissimilar from the toys he grew up with. Metal buttons for eyes, tattered fabric skin and clothes. A plant has grown from it’s chest, the stuffing within long ago stolen by birds and beasts. His foot was caught in the cavity that remains, nearly ripping the toy to shreds. 

Impulse turns his gaze to his surroundings. Trees grow from sharp rises, cliff faces of moss and lichen. No, not hills and cliffs. Homes. Lampposts overgrown with vines, flowers blooming from where lights used to shine down. Rusted iron support beams have fallen apart, tied to the ground by roots and grass. Crumbled stones and structures lay in heaping mounds, cairns of a time long past. Impulse digs the heel of his boot through the grass, and finds concrete beneath the thin layer of dirt. 

He also sees black marks on the stone walls, wooden posts charred and piles of ash tucked in the corners of homes. This must’ve been from a time before Hermitland, before the wall. 

This village was burned in the war with the nether. After all the lies he’s been fed, Impulse was starting to doubt the existence of such an event. But nothing else could explain damage like this. This is more firepower than any overworld army could do. This is why Hermitland was built. What Xisuma, Cub, and Doc were trying to protect the city and it’s people from. 

Utter ruin, total annihilation. But the line between defense and deception is so very thin, so easy to cross without ever realizing. Impulse feels the wind brush past his cheeks, his breath huffing as he stays still for just a minute. Between the broken windows and collapsed doors, he swears he can hear the voices of people long forgotten. The daily life of this village, long lost. 

Impulse can’t help his curiosity. He needs to know more, about the people of this place and how it came to ruin. He feels it’s only fair. Most of the buildings are missing roofs, left to the devices of the elements. Plants have grown over what animals haven’t taken, reclaiming the village in nature’s name. Bringing life back to a town that was once dead. Impulse clambers into one building that still has most of it’s roof, though heavily charred. The forces of nature have been kept at bay more so in this room than the rest of the village. 

It’s a library. Or, it was a library. Most of the books are gone, and the shelves have collapsed into blackened rubble. Impulse picks his way through, picking up whatever books remain. A recipe book, delicious and colorful meals making his stomach growl and ache. He hasn’t eaten in days. A manual on how to play some sort of tabletop game. Best played with three or more people. 

One book does catch Impulse’s eye. It’s a thick tome, the leather binding and yellow pages charred by the fire that had swept through the library. Portals to Other Dimensions: 3rd Edition. Impulse raises an eyebrow, and carefully flips through the pages within. They nearly crumble at his touch, but he’s able to make sense of what he’s reading. 

There may not be a way for him to get as far away from Hermitland in this dimension...but what about other dimensions? Or even other worlds? Anywhere is better than here. There’s nothing left for him here. The nether dimension is absolutely a no, but the book does mention something about another dimension. It’s vague, but something about a place full of lost things. Isn’t Impulse a lost thing? 

He flips the page, but the paper disintegrates before he can read on how to get to this End dimension. The next page says something about stone and brick. Is that how he gets to the End? He can build a portal to a different dimension, just by scrounging up stone from the ruins of this city. He can escape to the End, far away from everything the Overworld and the nether has ever done to hurt him. Make a new life in this strange new dimension, no matter how harsh it is. 

So Impulse begins to build. Tossing off his tattered buttonup, and tightening the bandage around his burns, he gathers stone and stone brick. He organizes the heavy material into an arrangement as close as he can mimic to what he hopes is the End portal. He doesn’t know what it looks like, but the book says that nether portals are six by nine meters of obsidian. If stone bricks have something to do with the end portal, then it’s reasonable for him to assume that it’ll be in a similar arrangement. 

The sun sets on the ruined city and ruined boy, but Impulse doesn’t stop. His pace becomes feverish, to the point that he actually puts his broken clock to the side so he can work without worry of breaking it more. It sits next to the open book, catching the moonlight. Impulse refuses to stop. No amount of hunger, fatigue, or pain will stop him now. He’s run so far, but not far enough. There’s still a chance he could be found in the Overworld. He needs to go beyond. 

Impulse scrambles up the lopsided portal frame, pushing his dirty, windswept hair out of his eyes as he places the keystone at the peak of the portal. One stone brick portal, which hopefully will take Impulse to the End. Impulse steps back, admiring his handiwork, and feeling his entire body screaming for him to stop. To rest, to eat, to heal. 

But his fear, his paranoia tell him to keep going. He swears he can hear voices in the distant, whispering among the leaves of the trees. People are close, or at least he can swear they are. People who want to harm Impulse. He rushes to pull out his flint and steel, not even taking the time to test the striker before sparking the portal. The rift opening nearly throws him off his feet, red swirls and sparks drifting free of the portal frame. 

He did it. He opened a portal. Hopefully, a portal to the End. Impulse grabs his clock, and steps up to the portal. In the distance of the birch forest, beyond the ever present eyes surrounding him, he can hear something howling. He doesn’t hesitate. 

Impulse leaps through the portal. His mind and body feels distorted, like he’s going to throw up. Like everything and nothing is happening to him. He exists, yet he doesn’t. Every atom of his being colliding and condensing. Until he’s out the other side. 

He stumbles forward, catching his weight on a sapling. But the young tree can’t handle the weight of the young man, and snaps. For the second time today, Impulse goes crashing to the dirt. But this time, he leaps back to his feet, ignoring the dirt and grass. His feet drag against the ground, body tired from running, low on energy. He’s running on empty, nearly burned out. Not enough to stop him from breaking his own portal. 

Impulse rips the stone portal apart, rock after rock tossed in all directions around him. The frame collapses under its weight, severing the connection between the birch forest and wherever he is now. He doesn’t care- he’s gone, in a completely different place than Hermitland. Somewhere Xisuma can’t get him. Somewhere no one...not even his best friends...could ever find him. It’s all gone, all the bad. But so is all the good. 

Days of running, without food and fighting through the painful cuts and bruises all over his body finally catches Impulse. He barely has enough forethought to step away from the rubble before his knees give out from under him. 

He’s gone before his head hits the ground.