The Rise Of CuteGuy

Forgiveness

Xisuma pov:

With Etho by my side, I took over Scar’s computer and started sifting through the files. The sheer amount of information was staggering, but what caught my attention immediately was the detailed hierarchy grian had meticulously documented. There were notes on entities we’d only heard whispers about—the Wraith, the Possessor, and then the Guardian. Each entry was packed with observations, theories, and footnotes that revealed just how much grian had uncovered, though even he admitted there were gaps in his knowledge.

As I scrolled through the files, I paused at the section on the Guardian. There were no complete lists of abilities, just fragmented notes and speculations. It seemed even Scar didn’t fully understand the extent of Grian’s powers. I was tempted to add an observation of my own—the spontaneous healing while unconscious, marked by those glowing lights—but then I noticed a footnote grian had left: Guardian abilities adapt and change based on circumstances. If the Guardian is significantly injured or emotionally distraught, their powers may evolve unpredictably. It was fascinating, really. The idea that Grian’s abilities could morph in response to his mental and physical state suggested a deeper, almost sentient connection between the Guardian and his powers.

Etho hummed beside me, his snow-white fox ears twitching slightly as he read through the section on the Possessor. The faint glow from the monitor highlighted the fur around his tail, which flicked absently as he absorbed the information. I watched him closely, noticing how his usually calm demeanor had shifted to something more intense, more focused.

His eyes lingered on a particular footnote, and I followed his gaze: Being numb to emotion isn’t always the best thing. You might not even realize when you’re possessed. The words seemed to resonate deeply with him, as if they were speaking to a truth that wasn’t just theoretical. Perhaps it was something Grian had experienced firsthand, or maybe it was something Etho had seen before. Either way, the significance wasn’t lost on him—or on me.

“Etho, do you think this could explain what happened earlier?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, careful not to disturb the fragile calm that had settled in the room. I continued to scroll through the notes, searching for anything else that might shed light on the situation.

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful, though the subtle movement of his ears betrayed his unease. “It’s possible,” he murmured, his tail swishing gently behind him. “If Bubbles was possessed, that would explain why he lashed out.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with implications. I turned my gaze to Mumbo, who stood a little way off, visibly tense. His posture was rigid, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as if holding himself together. I could sense the inner turmoil he was grappling with—the anger, the confusion, the worry. It was all there, plain as day.

Etho glanced at Mumbo, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the redstone engineer’s tense form. “Mumbo, you need to let this go for now,” he said gently but with a firmness that brooked no argument. His ears twitched again, this time in the direction of Mumbo, as if trying to gauge his reaction. “If possession was involved, Bubbles wasn’t himself. Blaming him won’t help anyone.”

Mumbo’s eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, his anger giving way to uncertainty and maybe even guilt. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “I know, Etho,” he said, though his voice was tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. “It’s just… hard to wrap my head around. I know Bdubs wouldn’t hurt Grian on purpose, but seeing what happened… it’s difficult to accept that something else was controlling him.”

Etho’s tail swayed slowly, a comforting rhythm that seemed to calm the atmosphere in the room. “I get that,” he replied, his tone softer now, more understanding. “But if Grian’s right, and the Possessor was involved, we need to focus on preventing this from happening again. It’s not about blame; it’s about finding a way to protect each other from these kinds of threats.”