Code Name: Connections (Discontinued)

Deal Gone Wrong

"I made a deal with them," Moon stood alone in front of the glass wall, turned off to face Iskall. The hermit sat in a chair, leaned over and rested on his knees. "You, Mumbo, and Wadzee will be turned in for information and records from the archives." She held her hands behind her back.

Iskall looked up, eyes glossy, but didn't meet her eyes. He sighed, "Moon, how are we supposed to trust you?"

"You aren't." She stepped closer to the glass. "The only ones who have to trust me are Doc and Grian. And they do. They did." She leaned, face hardly an inch from the glass. She slipped the mask off of her face, her smile fully realized. Iskall glanced his eyes across her, eyes landing in her's, stuck there. He hadn't before noticed the pearlescent glint, fitting of her name. The glint filled with something dark. "As soon as I step into that barrier, you can kiss your precious Hermitcraft goodbye."

"Pearl-"

"It's Moon," Moon spat, still smiling. "I promise, no one is going to die." She stepped back, walking to a lever. "That's the farthest thing on my list."

"Moon, you can't do this, you can't just take it away from us!" Iskall jumped up, pressing his hands on the glass. "Please, Moon!"

"I'll see you Friday, Iskall." Pearl pulled the lever and the glass became a wall of solid obsidian, pistons firing several times behind. Iskall breathed heavily, tears boiling hot in his eyes. He clenched his teeth.

He pulled his arm back and slammed it into the wall. A crack from the one-way glass formed and Iskall grabbed his red and bloodied hand. He seethed, bending down at the pain in his fist. He took a few deep, crying eyes drifting to the crack.

With nothing to lose, he threw his fist at the shattering glass, breaking the pieces across the floor.

He dropped his arms, blood splattering on the floor.

Obsidian.

There were two layers.

He sobbed softly as he broke another glass block. He grabbed a shard of glass and fell to his knees.

The world was shifting around him in ways he couldn't control. They had always been in control. They were supposed to be in control. They were Watchers. This wasn't supposed to happen. They should've been saved by now. The world was supposed to bend to their voice!

Iskall stood up and punched another glass block, arm going through it and hitting the obsidian. Iskall could hardly feel the pain anymore. He stared at the black rock, tears pouring down his face. His fists clenched.

His fist hit the wall with staggering force, a solid thunk and small splat with that impact. Iskal threw his other fist at the red painted black and felt a crack. His breathing stuttered and he punched again, both of his fist covered in red and glass.

The adrenaline started to die the more he punched the barrier. Each punch lost momentum and strength. A sick, nauseated feeling swam in his gut. He let out a sob and fell onto the ground, landing half on the pile of broken glass. He covered his eyes with his hands as he sobbed, thankful Wadzee and Mumbo had yet to wake up.

"I'm sorry..." was the only thing that managed to escape his throat.

~~~

The sun set early as it always did in late fall. The world seemed not to feel the change that was shaking the hermits. Of course, not many people knew about it. The rebellion had been mostly covered by Ilmango as a small miscalculation that was fixed exceedingly easily. The hermits backed this statement, what else could they do, with trembling voices. Ilmango made sure most of the world saw that the hermits were as strong as ever. Some people saw past it but not enough to create mass worry.