[Authors note May 7, 2022]

THAT'S RIGHT!! Grian's backstory is, like, the whole reason I started this fic!!! Kinda funny I called it Grian-centric and then just popped him into prison the whole time xD but now we get some actual past info! I hope it's as fun for yall to read as it was for me to write! After this section of lore there will be more lore to come later! I've split it up so its not.... completely overwhelming

Also fun challenge: Count how many times I use passing out as a Dues Ex Machina transition to the next scene xD sorry Grian

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Grian was leaning back on the rounded bars of his prison cell. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable, but he could deal with it. The staleness of the bread he was eating was somehow worse than the ache in his back.

He knew his first time back to Hels would end up with him in a prison, though not quite to this extent.

He was aware Xelqua had converted many of the guest rooms, designed for the Helsians and visiting Players to stay at, into prisons. He missed staying in one of those rooms.

Guess this was what he "deserved" for trying to escape.

He scratched his neck, trying to get under the steel collar around his throat. He missed home. He missed the hermits. Hell, he missed living in this dimension!

A part of him had always hoped he'd be invited back to Hels with some of the hermits.

He'd show them around his old builds when he'd first spawned here. They'd get to meet his friends and see all the differences between the worlds!

But... he was always too scared to tell them the truth about himself. Not to mention that Xisuma might not like him sharing secrets.

He just wishes things could be easier.

The first time he had ever woken up, it was deep inside a Watcher tower. There had been a fight, that much was obvious from the wreckage. He had felt... oddly empty inside. Like a part of his very being had been stolen.

He opened his eyes slowly, using his arms to push himself up off his stomach. His sides ached and there was a sharp ringing in his ears.

He looked down at his wrist. There was a light there, a small glowing heart surrounded by golden braces on his wrist. It was green. He cocked his head at the sight, had that always been there?

The man turned his head, trying to take in the surroundings. There was the smell of smoke and blood. The cracked stone tiles around him smoldered at points and the building groaned both above and below him.

To the side, there was a man amongst the rubble. He didn't look familiar either. He was dressed in red armor.. at least, he hoped it was just red armor and not...

He shook his head trying to get the ringing out. Where am I? What happened?

He pushed further, trying to stand with shaky legs. There was a rock to his side, and put his hand on it, using it to lift himself up. His breath hitched and he nearly slipped again, catching himself.

He leaned on the rock for support. His body felt weak and trembly, like he had never walked his life. There was a feeling of static washing over him in pained waves. Like he was being pricked by a thousand tiny needles.

"H-hey!" He yelled weakly. His voice didn't sound right either, it was foreign and scratchy. Like he had never once spoken. He swallowed.

"Ah, are you.. are you okay?"

Silence. Pretty expected.

The building grumbled again and he held the rock tighter. This place is falling apart! Some stones crumbled to the side, echoing in the large room, as if to prove his point.

He looked back to the man, pushing against the rock to a somewhat-steady stand.

He walked slowly over to the armored man, holding his side. His footsteps were slow and soft, but echoed with confidence. His breath was stabilizing and he felt more strength with each step.

"Hello?" He asked again, getting closer.

There was no response.

He squatted, crumping to his knees under his own weight. He looked the man over. His armor was red, but there were darker stains of dried blood, as well as a still pool of the crimson liquid under his head.

There was a helmet not far from him that matched the armor. It had been cracked open like an egg, blood coating the inside - completely sealing the visor.

He looked back to the injured man. His eyes were shut but his mouth was open just slightly. There was blood coming from his mouth. His hair was a mixture of white and red - most of which was blood. It was hard to tell the color of his skin in the dark room, but it certainly wasn't pale.

The sweatered man placed a hand on the man's cheek. It was warm still. He moved the hand to his neck, feeling the soft beat of his heart.

He was... alive?

The tower whined again, the pained sound of stone and steel escaping into the room - echoing with a force. He had to get out of here. He had to get both of them out of here.

He stood up again before bending down and rolling the man onto his back. He tucked his hands under the man's arms and tried to drag him.

He couldn't get him to budge. He took a shaky breath and pulled again, bracing himself against some of the stones.

He heard a loud crack. He looked down in fear that he injured the man, but he seemed fine.. or at least the same as he was found. What was that sound then?

He looked around worriedly and found nothing. He felt a presence looming around him and he looked up.

A large section of the ceiling cascaded towards the two men. His eyes widened right before he felt the stone crush him for just a moment before everything went black.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

When Grian awoke the second time, he felt much better... somehow. He still had a slight headache, but the rest of his body felt.. normal. If normal was the right word to use.

He stayed lying on the ground for a moment, looking up at the red sky above him. Trees lined the edges of his vision. That's different.

He took a deep breath, and started to sit up. He was laying on a dark green grass, leaf debris scattered around him. The forest seemed to expand infinitely, and it made him feel very small. He looked down at his wrist.

The glowing heart had changed. It was no longer green, but instead a saturated yellow. He cocked his head at the change. He shook his wrist before touching the heart lightly with his other hand. His fingers went through the projection and it glitched slightly. Small text appeared above it.

Two Lives Remaining.

Horror ran through his bones. Did he..? Did he die? How was he here? And why did he feel better after being crushed? He shook his head, pushing the heart out of view and out of mind.

Taking in his surroundings, he noticed the same armored man lying to the side, his helmet now covering his face. He wasn't bleeding any more, from what he could tell, but he was still unconscious.

He wasn't going to let that man die again.

He stood up, more confidently this time, striding over to him. He squatted again, shaking the man.

"Hello, are you alright?"

The armored man groaned and moved slightly. He noticed the same colored heart on the other man's wrist. He opened his eyes; red projections on his visor staring right at him.

"Who- who are you?" he said, voice unnaturally deep. "Where am I?"

The sweatered man blinked, "I..." he paused, "I don't know the answer to that question"

He waited a moment for the armored man to come to his senses. They sat together, both men taking in their new, unfamiliar surroundings. He could feel the armored man looking at him suspiciously, but he couldn't blame him.

Eventually the silence became unbearable and the shorter man stood up. "I suppose we should start by gathering wood?"

The other nodded, "I.. Yes, that seems right."

The two went to separate trees and spent a small amount of time getting wood. The winged man stayed near the clearing they'd woken up in, not feeling safe going any further than he needed too.

The armored man, however, edged deeper and deeper into the trees; targeting the largest ones he could find - but only breaking the blocks he could reach from the ground.

"Don't go too far," The sweatered man called.

"Huh?" he turned, "Why not? Afraid you'll lose me?" He sounded quite smug for the situation.

The shorter nodded, "Well, yea. I don't want to be alone here, it feels.. dangerous."

The armored man gave him a smile, or maybe a smirk, "I'm sure its fine, man, don't worr-" A loud roar rumbled the ground beneath him.

Both men shared a look before quickly running away. The armored man took the lead as the other followed right behind him.

The forest seemed to grow only denser as they ran. The horrible crack of tree trunks and crumbling rocks emanated from behind him. Both already were out of breath. The sweatered man's wings were out, slowing him down - but instinct preventing them from snapping shut.

Fly! Fly! Please!

He could practically feel the beasts breath on his neck, the thud of its feet slamming into the earth behind him. The armored man was further ahead, looking back in panic.

There was no way to outrun it. Flight was no longer an option.

The man turned, pulling a stick out of his inventory and faced the beast.

It was as big as he feared. A large head with a long neck composed of several stretches of tan skin. There were sharpened, scaley wings too small to fly at the base of his neck, extended aggressively. It's long spindly legs attached to a large body with sharp, hooked claws facing backwards.

It was horror in it's purest form. He nearly threw up at the sight alone.

"We can't outrun it!" He yelled.

"Are you mad?! You're going to die!"

"We're gonna die either w-" The beast swatted at him with his claws as he gave a mighty roar. The winged man leapt back, wind rushing past his feathers. It wasn't flight, but it was close.

He jumped to the side and ducked behind a tree. The monster swiped again, slicing cleanly through the tree with a sickening crack. With wide eyes, he ran to the side, watching as the beast snarled again, swatting with it's other claw.

It hit him mid-dodge, and he rolled across the ground. It raised it's leg once more and he raised the stick with both hands, holding it tightly.

It pierced the thin skin on the paw, needle sharp claws dangerously close to the back of the winged man's head, slicing off few of his feathers.

It reeled back with a guttural scream, the winged man pulling the bloody stick out with the movement.

The beast's weight was thrown off, it limped back squealing loudly, blood spurting from its injured limb. It went towards the man again, growling, it's long neck extending as it snapped at him. He had a few view of his small, needle-thin teeth for a moment and the man jumped back.

"Yeah!!" The armored man yelled from the side, pumping his arms victoriously. "Go man! Get him!"

He took the opportunity to run under the beast, and he stabbed up with stick, piercing the soft spot underneath the beast's arm. It roared again and fell to the side, the sweatered man narrowly missing the beasts falling body.

It swung its neck around and the man couldn't dodge in time. It's flesh bashed into his, several of the thin strands snapping against him. He fell forward, crashing into the dirt with a scraping thud.

"NO!" The armored man screamed again. The beast turned to him, chest soaked and dripping with blood. His eyes widened and he stepped back, "Good boy..." he whispered, "Nice big lizard.."

With a sharp hiss, the beast charged. The man fell back in shock, and held his hands up defensively, shutting his eyes.

The air filled with a hissing static, and the man's hair stood. A crackle filled the sky and a hot bolt of lightning sparked down, hitting the monster head on. He opened his eyes slightly as the ground shook beneath him. The beast lay before him, eyes dilated and glazed over - staring into him.

The winged man jumped on top of the monster, slamming his foot into the strands on its neck, snapping each and removing its head from his body with a horrible pop.

Both men panted, looking at one another. The shorter swallowed, "How.. how did you do that?"

He blinked, "Was that me?"

"It's not storming. Where did that lightning come from?"

The taller held out his hand again, trying to repeat the action. Nothing happened. He looked up, "I guess it wasn't me."

The winged man hummed, looking back at the corpse of the beast. "Wanna tear apart this thing?"

"Naturally."

Both men spent the next hour dismantling the beast's body. It was mostly silent, but the shorter man spoke once.

"Do you have a name?"

"hm?"

"A name."

He paused in thought, hands buried in the stomach of the beast. "Xisuma- no, no, that doesn't sound right..." He took a breath, focusing. "Evil Xisuma."

The winged man paused, "... Evil Xisuma?"

"mhm."

"How about just Evil, or Evil X."

"That's fine. What about you?"

"Grian, I think."

They continued to create supplies from the monster. Evil focused on creating weapons and armor with the bones and scales, while Grian created tools and used the bones to plant and grow crops.

When Evil finished his first set of armour he showed himself off, "How cool do I look?"

Grian glanced up from his crops, "Wow. That actually looks pretty good. Even over your, uhm, armour."

Ex hummed and took off his scale chestplate, "Hm, yes, I suppose you need this more than I do. I didn't even think about my own armour.. why do I have armour?"

Grian scoffed, "Why anything?"

Evil plopped down, "Fair point."

Grian smiled, "Evil is a pretty strange name, y'know. I guess that explains the red armour and spooky lightning powers."

"I told you that wasn't me! Besides 'Grian' is a pretty plain name!"

"Well maybe I'm just a simple fella, Mr. Super-villain."

Ex rolled his eyes and Grian began to harvest some of the wheat he'd grown - attempting to make it into bread. Ex sat down and grabbed a bone to begin whittling a shallow cup. They sat in comfortable silence.

Grian spoke again, quieter this time, "What else do you remember?"

Evil X shrugged, not taking his attention from the cup, "Not a lot. Just.. stuff. I feel like it's coming back so I guess that's good."

"Anything... Evil?"

Ex snorted, "The opposite actually! I was a good guy!"

Grian turned to him with a smile, "Oh yeah?"

Evil nods, shaking some dust off the bone he was carving, "I protected people. Like a guard. I think that's where the armour is from. And I remember, uhm, I was part of a group of guards who protected the weak." Grian hummed.

"I also remember my family, I think. My dad maybe? It's not very clear." He looked up, "What about you?"

Grian leaned against the crafting bench. "Uhm, the same kinda thing, I think. Protecting stuff and all that."

"Oh cool!" Ex seemed to smile under the mask, "What if we're both guards of a kingdom or something?"

Grian have a weak smile, "Yeah, maybe something like that."

He looked up. The sky wasn't the right color.