Chapter Text
“Impulse, they gave me a clock, so...” Bdubs hesitated, his grip tightening around his sword.
“Oh?” Impulse replied, confusion etched across his face.
“I have to do this.” With a swift motion, Bdubs swung his sword, striking Impulse's side.
“What!? No!” Impulse exclaimed, jumping back in shock. “I have to!” Bdubs yelled desperately.
“Don't! Stay away!” He tried.
“Sorry!”
“Bdubs, Day-One-Crew, what are you doing!? Bdubs, please!” Impulse pleaded, but his words fell on deaf ears. Laughter erupted from his enemies, Grian and Scar, who reveled in the chaos.
“They gave me a clock!”
Those were the last words Impulse heard before Bdubs shot him in the throat. He collapsed to the ground, darkness enveloping him as he slipped into the afterlife.
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With the end of the 3rd Life, Hermitcraft Season 8 begun!
Impulse woke up breathing heavily. Panicked, he tried looking around. After his death, he spawned somewhere unknown. Alone.
“Hey, Impulse!” A familiar voice called. Impulse looked at his old friend, Joe, walking towards him.
“So glad I found you. I've seen some of the others gathering back there, but we haven't found everyone yet. You're lucky I found you early. Imagine searching at night.” He bend down and reached out his hand to help Impulse up.
Impulse seemed to calm down at the softness of Joe's voice. Slowly, he grabbed his hand and almost immediately got hoisted up to his feet.
“You alright? You seem a little pale.” Joe asked, not letting go of his hand just yet.
“I'm alright. Sorry.” Impulse mumbled. Joe frowned. “No need to say sorry, dude. I know spawns can be rough sometimes.”
A beat, then–
“What's this around your neck?” Joe asked.
Impulse's hand immediately went up and grabbed the side of his neck. “Wh-What? Where?”
“I don't know what it is...It looks kinda like a scar.”
Impulse's eyes widened. Memories he wanted to forget. Experiences he wanted to erase from existence.
All of that trauma within a small scar on his neck. He needed to hide that immediately.
Joe sensed his unease and quickly changed the subject.
“Let's just go to the others.” He smiled softly.
All the hermits gathered in a circle within a plain village, welcoming the new members, GeminiTay and Pearlescentmoon, to the server. Mumbo stepped forward to explain the rules for this season:
“One thing for this season is to stay as close together as possible. We're all on a single continent, alright? So we’ll be sticking together, shoulder to shoulder, as neighbors!”
Scar snickered and leaned in to whisper something to Cleo and Tango.
“I am wearing pants, Scar!” Mumbo interjected, trying to regain control. “You've got a tiny hat that you can't talk about—”
Scar quickly interrupted him, babbling a defense. “Noo! No talking bad about my hat! It's small, yes, but it's very much stylish!”
Mumbo rolled his eyes and turned toward sto crowd.
“Okay. And then what? What else was there?” Mumbo continued, glancing around. “You might reset the things outside the continent.” Joe whispered, his voice low. “Oh yeah yeah, so if you build stuff outside of the continent, then it might not stay there.”
He looked at the crowd for any signs of confusion.
“Understood?” he asked just to make sure.
After most of them nodded, he cheered: “Season eight!”
Everyone then split up and went to gather resources.
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Mining went surprisingly well for Impulse. He got enough Iron for Armor and Tools. He even found three diamonds! Enough to make a pickaxe.
During that, he managed to calm down. His armor covered his scar pretty well for now, but he had to find some fabric for a better coverage.
As Impulse emerged from the depths, he was greeted by the sight of Grian, Mumbo, Scar, and Cleo in a lively discussion about Scar's tiny hat. The banter was lighthearted, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.
“What's this about a tiny hat?” he asked, joining the circle. Scar grinned, puffing out his chest in mock pride. “Well hello there Impulse, where have you been my friend?”
“I've been in the mines! Also, I think the hat suits you Scar.” he grinned.
Grian chimed in with a laugh, “Yeah, I think it suits you perfectly, Scar! Very... stylish.” Cleo rolled their eyes but couldn't suppress a smile.
“Thank you, thank you,” Scar added with a grin, gesturing to his own headwear. Mumbo chuckles, “You should totally get one, Impulse! It would look great on you!”
Impulse laughs, feeling the warmth in his chest return after the games. “Maybe I'll stick to my regular gear for now.” he replies.
Impulse felt a rush of excitement as he shared his mining success with the group. “I've been in the mines as I said, and I've got all this iron and a few diamonds!” he repeated, still buzzing from the thrill of finding diamonds. Grian's enthusiasm was infectious, but the surprise on Mumbo's face made him wonder what they had been up to while he was down there.
“But what've you been doing mate?” Mumbo's desperate tone caught Impulse off guard. It was as if he had missed out on something important, but before he could ask, he noticed Cleo's frown directed at him. Their expression was puzzling, and it made him feel a bit uneasy.
“What do you mean?” He asked nervously.
“Why do you think you need all that gear already?” Mumbo pointed at his armour.
The most logical answer would be "for protection", but Impulse couldn't help but think, "Protection from what?" He wasn't sure. Maybe from the monsters that spawn at night, but deep inside he knew that wasn't really it.
“Well, I think I'm gonna go to Cub and bother him for a bit. Cya.” Cleo broke the silence as they turned to leave. “Bye!”
As the conversation continued, Impulse tried to shake off the feeling. He was just happy to be back with his friends, sharing stories and laughter. But then, as if by magic, a totem of boats appeared on top of a crafting table. Impulse couldn't help but chuckle at the randomness of it all. “Looks like we’ve got a new decoration!” he joked, hoping to lighten the mood.
The group laughed, and for a moment, the earlier tension faded away. Impulse felt a sense of belonging, even if it was fleeting. He knew he had to keep pushing forward and find his place among the Hermits, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
At that, one of the new hermits, Pearl, arrived. The group turned around and looked at her, excited to welcome her into their circle.
“Hey, Pearl! Welcome to the team!” Scar exclaimed, giving her a friendly wave. After letting her join their group and putting up another boat on the top of the totem for her, they all exchanged ideas about what materials they needed for their starter bases.
“Alright, let's split up and gather what we can!” Grian suggested, already plotting where to go. Impulse nodded, feeling energized by the group dynamic. “I’ll head towards the forest for some wood and stone!” he declared, ready to contribute to their new adventure.
He was alone for the rest of the day, gathering materials and building his base.
He killed some sheep on the way for wool. He needed some for a bed and for a new shirt. One that would cover up unnecessary memories.
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As Impulse wandered through the Hermitcraft world, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The incredible designs of his friends' bases, especially Pearl's ship, was awe-inspiring, but the weird atmosphere made it hard for him to fully enjoy it.
He admired Grian and Scar's builds, but the absence of Mumbo made him wonder where he was. “Maybe he's just hanging out with Grian or Scar” he thought, trying to dismiss the unease creeping in.
Yet, as he moved from base to base, it felt like eyes were on him, watching his every move. Impulse shook his head, trying to convince himself it was all in his mind. “It's in my mind. I'm just going crazy.” he muttered, but deep down, a nagging feeling told him it might be something more.
He decided to find someone to hang out with, hoping that being around friends would help ease the strange sensation. After all, he didn't want to let a little fear ruin his time in the server!
_________________________________________________
In the end, he just went home and sorted his inventory into some chests before going to sleep. It was late anyway and he didn't find anyone while he was out.
Around two hours later, he woke up sweating. He woke up because he was standing on something, something that looked like an altar. Around him were walls, and dry blood covered the whole floor.
Where was he? Why was he here?
“Traitor!” someone yelled. “No traitor gets to set foot in my property!” again, they yelled.
The voice echoed in his mind, sending chills down his spine. He strained to see who was yelling at him, his heart racing as he tried to piece together how he ended up in this ominous place. The darkness around him felt oppressive, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in deep trouble.
Who could have brought him here, and what did they want from him?
Impulse's heart raced as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The chilling voice echoed in that closed up space, worsening his fear.
“H-Hello?!”
He scanned the walls, searching for any hint of who might be behind the accusations. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and the sight of the blood-stained floor sent a shiver down his spine.
“Who are you?” he called out, his voice trembling. The darkness seemed to close in around him, and he felt utterly alone, just as he had earlier when searching for his friends. The feeling of isolation crept back, intensifying his dread.
Suddenly, a figure stepped into the dim light that shone on the altar, and Impulse's breath caught in his throat. He recognized the angry eyes staring back at him, filled with betrayal and resentment. The realization hit him hard, he was in a nightmare of his own making, facing the consequences of his actions.
“Why did you betray us? Why should you think you could betray your king?” the figure demanded, the accusation hanging heavy in the air.
Impulse's eyes widened.
He knew he had to confront his past mistakes, but the fear of what lay ahead kept him rooted to the spot.
As the figure advanced, Impulse braced himself for whatever was to come, hoping for a chance at redemption even in this terrifying dream.
Light, revealing a familiar face twisted with anger. It was Ren, his eyes blazing a furious red as he stepped forward.
“You think you can just betray us and walk away unscathed?” Ren spat, his voice laced with venom. Impulse felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Memories of their past friendship flashed through his mind, the laughter, the teamwork, all overshadowed by this moment of betrayal.
“I–I didn't mean to!” Impulse shouted, desperation creeping into his tone. “It was never my intention to hurt anyone!”
Ren's expression hardened. “Intentions don't matter now. You chose your side, and now you shall face the consequences.”
Impulse's mind raced. He knew he had to find a way out of this situation. Behind Ren, shadows began to emerge, revealing the silhouettes of his former allies, Etho, Big B, Martyn, and Skizz. Their faces were grim, and the realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
He had betrayed them all, and now they were coming for him.
“Please, you have to listen to me!” Impulse pleaded, his voice cracking. “I can explain everything!”
But Ren shook his head, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “There’s nothing left to say. You made your choice.”
As the others advanced, Impulse felt the walls closing in around him. He was trapped, with nowhere to run. The fear coursed through him, but deep down, he knew he had to fight for his life, and for the chance to make things right.
“Impulse, you had everything,” the figure continued, their voice laced with pain. “We trusted you, and you threw it all away. Do you even realize the weight of your betrayal?”
Impulse's heart raced as he struggled to find the words. “I... I never meant for it to come to this. I thought I was doing what was right, but I see now how wrong I was.”
The figure paused, their expression softening for just a moment. “You thought you could play both sides and walk away unscathed? You need to understand that actions have consequences.”
As the darkness pressed in around him, Impulse felt the weight of his choices crashing down. He had to find a way to make amends, to show that he could change. “Please, give me a chance to explain. I want to fix this, I want to earn back your trust.” I want us to be friends again went unsaid.
The tension in the air hung thick as the figure considered his plea, their eyes searching for sincerity in Impulse's expression. Would they believe him, or was it too late for redemption?
As he thought Ren would consider his apology, he let his guard down, and Martyn snuck up on him from behind, stabbing him through the chest. Pain shot through Impulse like wildfire, and he gasped, the betrayal cutting deeper than the blade itself. He stumbled forward, collapsing to the ground as darkness began to creep into the edges of his vision.
“Did you really think you could talk your way out of this?” Martyn sneered, his voice echoing in Impulse's mind as the world around him blurred. The faces of his friends twisted into expressions of anger and disappointment, each one a reminder of his failure.
As the life drained from him, Impulse felt an overwhelming sense of despair. This was it, the end of everything he had known. But just as the darkness threatened to consume him entirely, a bright light pierced through the gloom. It enveloped him, warm and inviting, pulling him away from the nightmare.
With a jolt, Impulse awoke, gasping for breath in his starter base. He tried to look around, searching for a source of light in the pitch-black room. Nothing. Closing his eyes again, he focused on steadying his breathing. After taking a few deep breaths, he managed to calm down.
Why did he have that dream?
Guilt washed over him. He was sure his friends hated him. Ren must hate him. he had trusted him enough to let Impulse join his alliance. Etho wouldn’t want to talk to him either. He and Impulse were close during 3rd life, the white castle duo. Martyn would want revenge, and he was certain he would team up with Ren just to see Impulse suffer. Skizz—...he couldn't imagine the hatred the angel would feel towards him now. Impulse was convinced he wouldn’t communicate with him anymore, and their friendship would feel like it never existed.
Impulse didn’t want that. He didn’t want to dwell on it. All he wanted was peace and some sleep. He closed his eyes one more time and drifted off.
Waking up meant work, and he had prepared a schedule for this season, a tradition he cherished.
He wanted to create a mega base, one that would be even bigger than his last one in season 7, which apparently wasn’t a mega base, as Grian had pointed out. For this project, he drew inspiration from the Willy Wonka factory and planned to recreate it in Hermitcraft. The idea of colorful rooms, chocolate rivers, and fantastical designs excited him, and he couldn't wait to get started on this grand project!
But before all that, he needed to fix his shirt.
He took the wool he gathered from the day before, and some black dye he collected from squids.
He sat at his desk and started sewing.
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The next Hermitcraft meeting came and Impulse was kinda worried.
“So first of all, are our new hermits adapting well so far?” X asked right away. “Yes, everything has been amazing so far! The people, this world already feel like home to me.” Pearl answered . “Agreed!” Gem agreed on that.
“Great news! Now, I wanted to mention that some blocks that have been placed outside of the continent have already been deleted. I hope no one built their starter base there, cuz if they did, it's gone now.” X explained.
Since no one seemed to say anything about that, he continued.
“Alright then, I don't have anything else to say. Anyone want to share any important information?”
Some hermits said they had nothing to share and some stayed quiet. Impulse was one of them. Sitting there looking at the floor, his mind drifting off.
“Hey, Impulse?” he looked up. “Yes?” he asked. “You're looking kinda down today. Are you alright?” Mumbo questioned. His mind blanked. Was he that obvious? Great. What are they gonna think of him now.
“Impulse?” Huh? What? He turned to the person who spoke. “You spaced off. Are you sure you're alright?” Grain asked worryingly. “I-.... it's nothing. Sorry for worrying you. I'm just thinking about stuff, that's all.” He lied. “Yeah, I'm not buying that. Something's bothering you.”
Just great.
In front of 20 other hermits who are probably listening to their conversation, how could he explain his feelings? “I..... um...” "Think! Impulse, think!!" “I will have to read your mind if you don't speak in the next 30 seconds.” Right, Grain can read minds. He's a Watcher, after all.
He didn't know what to answer.
25...
Asking if the hermits hated him for what he did in 3rd life felt way too embarrassing!
20...
'Come on, think!'
15...
'Say something.'
10...
“I...”
5...
“..um..”
4...
'Why can't I think of anything!??'
3...
“God dang it, I can't say it out loud! Just read my mind, and we'll talk later!” he gave up. Now all the hermits turned and looked at him concerned.
Grian sighed, “Impulse... Alright then.” He moved to stand right in front of Impulse. “I'll make this quick. Just relax.” And with that, his aura completely changed. Impulse could feel the power the man in front of him possessed. A power only gods could achieve.
He slowly saw Grian's eyes change from their natural hazel color to light purple but also kinda blue, and his pupils turned into a diamond shape with a darker blue-purplish color. Impulse couldn't stop looking at his eyes. Something this mesmerizing was dragging him in!
The next thing he knew, he was standing in a white space. He didn't even know if it was a room he's in. In front of him, there stood Grian, who was not wearing his usual red sweater and gray jeans. 'What the heck is he wearing? Aren't Watchers supposed to wear purple?' Grian's outfit seemed to be more blue than purple.
'Grian's focusing.' He thought to himself. Grian slowly opened his eyes, meeting Impulse's gaze.
“Don't be afraid, Impulse. We are in your mind right now.” Impulse listened, surprised. 'In my mind?' “I know it also seems weird seeing me like this, but I need to be in this form in order for this to work,” Grian stated. “Okay then.” I trust you went unsaid.
But why wouldn't he trust Grian? He vowed to protect them when everyone found out he was a Watcher in season 6. The weight of his past actions began to press down on him, and he couldn't shake the thought of whether the hermits hated him for what he did in 3rd life. Would they see him as a traitor too?
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“Grian.” X frowned. He and Grian went to X's base to talk about his condition. “I know you aren't like them, and I know Pearl isn't as well, but-” Grian already knew what was going to happen. He knew what the Watchers were, and he knew what the Players did to them.
“I can't keep two Watchers in my Server. That's too much of a risk. I'm sorry.” He didn't expect anything other than that. He understood X, but he didn't want to leave. The hermits have become his family. A family he always wished to have. He couldn't let them go.
“X....” Grian lowered his head. “I know you hate Watchers and I know all you want is to keep the hermits save, but this server and those people are my home, and I would never want anything bad to happen to them!” X froze.
Grain stood there in front of his Admin, confidently, trying to make him trust him. “I'm not an ordinary Watcher. I'm a runaway Watcher! A God, who left his realm just to become a normal player again! You saw me in my watcher form. I was blue, not purple!”
“Please don't send me back. I ran for a reason.”
'I ran to find peace' He felt a tear in the corner of his eye. “I will protect you from them! I will not let a single hermit get hurt, and I will not let them destroy this server! Let me and Pearl stay! Please.” He couldn't do anything but plead.
Everything he said wasn't lies, it was all truths. He would protect his home with his life.
Even though X wore a mask, Grain could see him smile and that made him feel relieved. “Thank you Grian. That's all I needed to hear.”