The morning feels alive, buzzing with the hum of redstone machines and the distant laughter of voices carried on square wind. You follow close at Grian’s side, still stumbling through the strange new physics of this world. Every block looks too sharp, every shadow too deep, and yet his feathers brushing your arm are a strange comfort — bright, warm, grounding.

“You’ll need to meet the others,” Grian says lightly, voice dancing with its usual mischief. His tail feather flicks behind him as he hops off a ledge and glides down with that careless almost-fall, almost-flight that only he could pull off. “They’ll be curious about you. Don’t worry, I’ll keep them from eating you alive.”

He grins back at you, but for the briefest second, his eyes shimmer — gold, cold, endless — and you wonder if he’s joking.

The shopping district sprawls around you, a chaotic mess of stalls and shops, towers scraping toward the blocky sun. And soon enough, three figures turn at Grian’s wave.

Scar is the first to approach, bright smile and sunhat tilted, his stride both graceful and clumsy all at once. “Well, hello there!” he beams, eyes flicking between you and Grian. “New recruit, huh? Oh, this is exciting, we haven’t had one of those in a while.” His voice is honey, but his glance at Grian is knowing.

Behind him, Mumbo fiddles nervously with a redstone contraption in his hands, barely making eye contact. “Er — new? Properly new? Like… not a troll?” His words tumble over each other, but curiosity wins over caution.

And Pearl, perched casually on the edge of a quartz block, tilts her head like a hawk sizing up prey. “You sure this one can handle this, Grian?” she asks, though her tone is more teasing than cruel.

Grian’s feathers ruffle, his grin widening. He pulls you just slightly closer, one hand brushing your back with a softness that feels like fire. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he tells you, though his voice is pitched loud enough for all three Hermits to hear. “You’re My apprentice. I’ll teach you everything you need to survive here.”

The other Hermits exchange glances — some amused, some suspicious — but none of them challenge his claim. Because in his eyes, even softened by warmth, there lingers the flicker of something older, something that makes mortals hesitate.

And so, your new life begins: at your master’s side, under his feathers and his watchful gaze, in a world that feels both wondrous and terrifying.