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This Void was unlike the one that Grian was used to. He'd joined the Watchers mere months ago, and while he'd been eager initially, he was beginning to bore.
The Watchers seemed to share a similar sentiment about Grian himself, becoming harsher, less understanding as time passed, ruthless punishments beginning to emerge, claiming that he should know better by now, that if he wanted his wings, he must obey.
Grian had never quite been very good at that, an itch under his skin that begged to be pesky, but he resolved to try and obey anyway.
He often came short, some of the Watcher's patience growing thinner as time marched on.
Now, Grian found himself walking alongside the edge of the island they lived on. This dimension they'd brought him to had floors with the color of quartz but the texture of glass, patterns of endless swirls along the edges painstakingly etched into the tough material, a single line never-ending, joining together across the entire island.
There were others scattered about that he could spot in the distance, but those were for the ones who'd earned their wings, free to traverse the dimension.
Grian yearned.
Other than the islands, there was nothing of note. This was unlike the End’s Void, where distant specks surrounded you, mimicking starlight. Here, it was only a pitch-black darkness, nothing above or below beyond the floating islands, each placed by a Watcher.
Near the beginning of his initiation, Grian had been walking with an Elder, their hands clasped behind their back as they went on a peaceful stroll around the island with Grian, who'd felt like a child following their parent, mimicking the Elder with clasped hands as well, bouncing as he looked around.
He'd inquired about it, asked what was at the end of it all, what would happen if he fell.
What would happen if he flew , he'd thought privately.
And with their many Eyes, the Elder had glanced at him, no physical eyes to Watch through the blindfold they wore, but Grian felt the stifling sensation of it anyways. They seemed wryly amused, a slight quirk of their mouth as they Looked.
Grian had grinned, nervous and wringing his hands behind his back.
"You cease to exist," They'd answered simply, and Grian's grin had fallen, lips pursing and eyes tearing away from the Elder to glance down, as though the Void would appear before him with the mere thought of it. The Elder had let out a breathy laugh then, quiet.
They hadn't spoken for the rest of their stroll.
___________
There was a hole at the center of the island.
It was where they held all of their prayers and meetings, the Watchers who could attend coming to form a circle. No matter if there were a dozen or fifty, the hole was large enough to accommodate, seeming to fluctuate in size depending on the whims and needs of those who appeared before it. They always formed a neat circle around the hole, no podiums to uplift anyone, everyone standing as equals.
The hole was carved with the same precision as the patterns that lined the island. It was smooth and perfectly geometric, reminding him of a friend from time passed. Around the circle and above there were arches, hiding the void that stretched endlessly above, replaced instead with the view of the void below.
His past was becoming blurred, and it didn't alarm him. He was so very close now to his goals, to becoming a Watcher. The power was within his grasp, the privilege.
"Xelqua," an Elder voiced, and Grian blinked, back straightening and hands squeezing together behind himself. They wore a veil instead of a blindfold like many of the others, made of a material that hid their features. It had an essence that made Grian unable to stare at them too long, confusing him at the swirls of true darkness with the purple that occasionally shone at the right angle, "step forward"
Grian did, stepping barefoot outside of the formation, the Other to his left stepped forward with him. This is a Kind one, with the blindfold weaved of spiderwebs, unlike many of the others who'd made their own out of Code. Their Eyes were few, but they had three pairs of wings that stretched behind them, each pair being different shapes and sizes.
When Grian had asked about it, they'd answered that Watchers presented differently when it was their Trial, and their strength was reaching worlds difficult to attain.
"It is Time," the veiled Elder said simply, and suddenly, there were hundreds of Eyes appearing, different shades of purple blinking into existence.
All of them, Watching him.
Before Grian could respond, he felt a shove at the center of his back, and his heart leaped into his throat, stumbling forward,
forward,
down,
into nothing.
Grian was still being Watched.
He was being torn into code, turning into specks of ones and zeros and there were no wings.
No heartbeat.
Then, he Saw.
This was not a Void.
It was not the ceasing of existence.
It was all ones and zeros, creating more stars than could ever appear in the night sky, surrounding him.
MumboEvoPearlMartynElytraEndShriekerLivesDesertScarJimmyEmpiresChampionshipsXisumaHermitsRedCreepersSecretsMoonBigBServersEyesEyesEyeswatCHEDWATCHINGWATCHING
Xelqua screamed, the past and present and future all tearing into him, grasping at the code that surrounded him.
The lack of existence was everything, to be and that was.
Eternity.
And he grasped it with burned hands and tore, melding it into His vision.
Pairs of wings sprouted behind him with a burst of agony , and he felt burning along his temples as others sprouted along the side of his head, blood soaking into his hair and his robes.
His legs snapped, broken bones cracking and shifting, scales emerging and claws growing. Joints appeared where there weren’t any.
It was torture.
It was right.
Blood trailed down his body.
Red.
Red.
He felt like the color was important.
Who was-
He grabbed at the edges of the code, burning and burning and eyes began to open along his wings, all of them , surrounding him as he Saw .
He went to rip, to escape.
Then, he was grabbed by phantom hands, dragged out of the comfort he'd found, and suddenly, he was slammed onto the familiar ground.
Pain burst into his head, like fists pounding at the inside of his skull, and he saw them All, zeros and ones merging together and there was red on his robes and purple surrounding him and off-white arches and too solid ground. He was whining and trying to scramble back down into the hole, into the comfort it gave, into the power that resided at his fingertips that still seemed to be bursting from him at every seam-
A blindfold was pressed to his face, soft and dark and soothing.
He could still See.
It was too much. It was all so Much-
"You have survived your Trial," the voice of the veiled Elder greeted his ears, and his wings bristled behind him, wet and soaked with blood. Grian shook on the ground, feeling like a newborn fawn.
There was no heartbeat.
He could not breathe.
He tried to gasp, and instead managed only to shake his chest in a heaving motion, leaning forward as though to vomit.
He had not eaten in an age.
He could not remember the feeling of liquid until the crimson inside his body tore itself violently from him, seeping into every inch of his skin and his clothes and his hair.
Xelqua was Created.
And without tears, he wept.