(sorry for that sentence that make many people loose brain cells but lmao the comments on the paragraph is me during any exam-)

(also, something on my end glitched and i apologize if you saw this twice.)

"If you die while you're a Prime Admin, it better not be in a stupid way," the Prime Admin said to young Grian. "You could take down full grown Watchers when your age was one digit. You're the youngest Argentum admin in history, and will be the youngest Prime at the age of thirteen. Dying to a stupid arrow or anything of the like would be... demeaning." The Prime fixed a hard gaze on Grian, hoping to scare the young child. Instead, Grian burst out laughing. The Prime Admin has never found a way to intimidate the boy.

"I won't... I hope. Unless I'm like, I dunno, already dead on my feet, but that's a different story," Grian said, picking at his sweater.

"Indeed it is," the Prime Admin agreed, absentmindedly swiping one of their screens.

"But... what would happen if I did somehow suffer a permadeath?" The Prime considered Grian's question for a moment. They sat back in their chair, folding their hands on their lap.

"Considering you would be the physical Prime, the state of Minecraft would drastically lower." Grian tilted his head, a familiar thinking expression crossing his face.

"Like how negative emotions would... change the sky or lessen spawn rates?"

"Exactly, but worse." The Prime's voice lowered in tone and volume. "The sun wouldn't shine. It would become extremely cold, and in some cases, ice would spread across the server they died in. Light sources wouldn't work the way they would. Many other things, Grian. All bad things, I assure you."

Young Grian paused, a frown crossing his face. "When was the last time that happened?"

The Prime sighed.

This darn boy is too curious.

"Over a millennia ago. Nowadays, Primes retire before they permanently pass. None of us want to accidentally shut Minecraft down for however long it takes to replace the Prime. It'd leave Minecraft vulnerable, especially to the Watchers and, ultimately in the end, Herobrine." The frown on the boy's face deepened.

"He's a myth. The Watchers only aspire to finish his goals, like we do with Jeb and Notch." The Prime Admin unnoticeably smiled knowingly.

"Come on, it's time to practice spar the other Argentum admins." Grian nodded, quickly organizing his testing papers.

"Yes sir," he said. The Prime stood up, leading Grian with their hand on his shoulder to where the older Argentum admin waited.

Grian's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry and sensitive. Shouts of surprise, cries of thankfulness, and his name overwhelmed his sense of hearing. A large form slammed into him, wrapping him in a suffocating hug. A pain flared in the builder's back as his air was forced from his lungs.

The admin instantly recognized where he was and who was hugging... crushing him.

"Ouch- Mumbo you're crushing my wings and I can't breathe let me go-" Grian wheezed in one quick breath, his eyes widening as his oxygen ran out. Mumbo released ever so slightly, allowing Grian a small amount of air. The Prime gave an amused huff and weakly returned the hug, setting his chin on Mumbo's shoulder.

"H-how are you- I- I thought permadeath was impossible to return from... I saw you die, Grian, I saw you stop breathing- I- how-" Mumbo couldn't continue, his quiet sobs drowning out his words.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Grian saw that Xisuma was caught in a similar situation as him, except Scar had jumped on him. The poor Purpura admin seemed dead on his feet, but returned the hug anyways, bringing a smile to Grian's face.

A familiar person near the trees caught the Prime's attention. Grian made eye contact with his medic, mouthing a silent thanks. She nodded with a faint smile, fading back into the treeline.

Grian looked to the side, searching for his colleague. Libra stood farther away, watching his interactions with the other Hermits who had crowded around, bombarding the poor builder with questions. Grian subtly nodded, and Libra took it as permission to start repairs on the server, just like what they did with InvadedLands.

The builder then turned his attention back to the Hermits, trying his best to hear the questions that were shot at him. Every voice had muddled into one, each question unheard and not understandable. Everyone seemed to have gotten over the initial shock of him being alive (they had great faith in the medic and Xisuma the moment they started the healing process), but couldn't wrap their mind around the fact Grian was an admin.

The Prime was about to answer the obvious questions when his wings suddenly snapped open. Mumbo yelped and released him. Grian gave an over-exaggerated frown, whipping around to those behind him as he tightly folded the mass of feathers to his back.

"Who touched my wings?" There was a hint of amusement layered in his rough voice.

"Sorry Grian, they looked really fluffy," Tango apologized, not seeming sorry in the slightest. The admin was about to make a remark that would have resulted in a slap, but a cough forced its way to his lips. When he pulled his elbow away, blood had splattered on the robe. He groaned and tried to stand up, only to be stopped by Mumbo's tender hand on his shoulder.

"You're not moving," Mumbo hiccuped, his voice wavering. The other Hermits quieted, watching the events unfold before them.

"Mumbo, I'm fine."

"Nope, I'm... I'm going to make sure you stay here and heal up, alright?" Mumbo pushed Grian down again as he tried to sit up. The redstoner tried to give Grian an intimidating glare, but the small Hermits only shook his head. He pushed Mumbo's hand away with ease and sat up. "Grian!"

"Thanks for your concern, but I've been through worse. I can take care of myself, I've had to for the past fourteen years," Grian sighed.

"What can be worse than permadeath?" Mumbo asked, rubbing his eyes. The Prime only winked in response, standing up and pulling Mumbo with him. The two met each other's eyes, a gentle smile reaching the shorter one's.

"So... you're the Prime Admin no one knows about," Xisuma asked from the side, saying the question on everyone's mind. Scar had moved alongside the other Hermits, although looking rather downcast.

"Yeah... I guess I am." Grian casted a concerned look at Scar, but was unable to say anything as Cleo stepped forwards, a dangerous glint flashing in her eyes. The Prime shrunk away, almost cowering behind Mumbo.

"Grian, how dare you scare us like that!" Cleo said, her naturally loud voice causing the small builder to flinch back. "I swear I'm gonna break your legs for that!" The admin froze.

The non-Hermitcraft admins that happened to be there held their breaths. This player just threatened the Prime Admin who was always cold to anyone in the halls and was merciless to the admins in training. She's going to be banished to the Nether with severe punishment-

Or so they thought.

Grian only shrunk back further, scanning the group for Joe. The poet looked worse for wear having been knocked out earlier, but seemed to have recovered enough to walk around.

"She's not serious, is she?" Grian's voice had jumped many octaves. Joe tilted his head, looking back and forth between Cleo and Grian.

"It depends on the situation, the worse it happens to be, the more likely she'll do it," he answered. "In this case, unfortunately yes, she most definitely will. Good luck." Grian paled, stepping towards his mansion as Cleo flashed a grin.

"Uh- y'know, sorry Cleo, I've got to take care of the other admins and try to fix Minecraft... and kick Watcher butt... the usual, yeah? Uh, yup... I-" He booked it, disappearing into the lower half of his mansion before anyone could say a word. Cleo growled, and though it sounded real, the Hermits knew she was just joking.

Maybe.

"... My goodness, that sounds weird coming from him. He has to fix Minecraft... that's odd," Mumbo muttered, the Hermits nodding and voicing their agreement in response.

"Grian? Fixing Minecraft? Being responsible? Unbelievable!" Grian yelled from his mansion. The Hermits chuckled, albeit confused on how he heard them.

As they waited for Grian, they shared their short stories of the event that took place. Some were in the Shopping District when it started, others were in their bases. A few were in the nether, and others were AFK.

They healed up as best as they could, cleaning the blood and grime that stuck to their bodies. Most broken bones and bruises were healed with the potions- thank Notch they exist- and others were fix by having a full hunger bar.

Not many noticed Grian come back out, sporting a new red sweatshirt. His skin and hair was still stained with the odd old ink, but he didn't seem to notice. In his hands was a bundled... object that was hidden from sight. There was a grin on his face that reached his eyes, one that was present every time he was about to anything up with TNT.

The player that stood before them looked everything like the Grian they knew.

But it didn't seem like him.

There was an obsidian sword strapped to his belt, a weapon that showed screamed supremacy. An air of confidence and authority surrounded him, much unlike the mischievous and troublesome aura that usually radiated from the Hermit. The bags under his eyes were evident, like most admins. Sparks of golden magic flashed every once in a while, complementing the wings that were folded on his back.

The Hermits were unsure if they were looking at the Prime Admin or Grian.

Hypixel landed near the Prime, shifting from foot to foot. "What do we do next, Prime?"

"Find AppleG and Defek. Gather up the admins and bring them to the infirmary. The next attack could be soon." Hypixel nodded, preparing to take off with an elytra he coded into the game. He looked over his shoulder.

"What about you, Prime?"

"I've got some business to take care of," Grian answered. Hypixel nodded again, accepting the answer. No admin questioned any of the Prime Admin's business. The server owner flew off, bringing the lower ranked admins with him.

Ignoring the Hermits' stares, The Prime made a beeline to a certain wizard Hermit who was on the ground hugging his knees. His face was buried in his knees. Xisuma had a hand on his shoulder, not knowing what else to do.

Grian knelt in front of him. He lowered himself so the two could make eye contact with each other. Scar flinched as Grian reached out and set a hand on his knee. The Prime gave a concerned smile, holding out his other arm in which a ball of fur laid curled in on itself, burrowed in a blanket.

Scar gasped, snatching Jellie out of Grian's hands. The cat purred in her owner's grasp, safe and content.

"Thank you, Grian," Scar muttered into Jellie's fur.

"Of course, Scar," Grian chuckled. "Saw her run into the mansion during that duel."

"That's why you deflected it all?" Scar looked up. Grian assumed 'it' meant magic and nodded.

"I could always rebuild it later. I just didn't want the build to collapse on her." Grian leaned on the chest monster with a wince. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced. "I still feel dead," he groaned, draping himself over a chest. He retracted his wings into his back, seeing no use for them. Xisuma shook his head.

"You didn't sleep last night," the Purpura admin said. The Prime scoffed, pulling the entire scabbard for his sword off his belt and pushing it aside.

"Neither did you, you were staring at my back the entire night," he said with a smirk. Grian knew Xisuma spent most of his time staring out the window, but decided to ignore the fact. X smiled, his eyes wrinkling ever so slightly.

"What is it with Hermitcraft admins not sleeping?" False called out. She's been there for a long time and knows X likes to fix the server over sleeping.

"Just be like Bdubs, then you could never have this problem," Keralis added. Bdubs sputtered, much to everyone's amusement.

But before he had the chance to retaliate with compresendable words, a small beam of Watcher magic exploded in the center of the loose circle of Hermits.

The explosion threw everyone off their feet, sending every Hermit sprawling away. Coughs and voices of confusion rose. As the smoke cleared, Grian jumped to his feet, avoiding the use of admin magic. A yelp tore his attention away from the other Hermits. Xisuma was being dragged away by the Prime Watcher who had his arm wrapped around his neck.

"No, Xisuma!" Grian yelled, launching himself toward him. The Prime Watcher sneered, plucking the small Hermit off by his hair with his gloved hand.

"You foolish player." Grian unnoticeably raised an eyebrow and resorted to kicking and thrashing. "I guess I'll just take both of you." A trident and an arrow sailed past them, only causing a smirk to grow on the Watcher's face. His hold around Xisuma's neck tightened.

The admin sputtered, gasping for air. In a moment of panic, he rose his hand to the sky and shot a shower of purple warning sparks. The Prime Watcher sneered, leaving the server with a quick and strong bout of magic.

And he took the two Hermits with him.

Everyone in Hermitcraft saw the warning sparks no matter their position. The Hermits didn't know what it was, but assumed it was bad considering neither Hermitcraft admins were there anymore. The remaining admins rushed towards where the sparks originated.

But they were too late.

The only sign left was the magic-scorched grass.

(interpret the wink how you want, but i had fanfiction in mind when writing that-)
(also hOcUs pOkUs wHeRe'S mY foCus)