Chapter Text
When The Watcher first woke up, they knew something was terribly wrong. They were not where they slept, for one. They quickly found out the environment was rather deadly, dying a few times before they left the area, which was a vertical climb along some kind of box. The Wall, their mind helpfully supplied, but something told them it should’ve been impossible to get there. It doesn’t matter, they thought, continuing their ascent. Looking up, they noticed two things: they were almost at the top, and the path had a lizard in the way. This one was white. How did they know without seeing it? A mystery, or perhaps instinct.
Climbing the ladder-like poles, Watcher grabbed some rocks and formed a plan in their head. Step one, stun the lizard with rock one, step two, run past. If the lizard continued to follow them after step two, they would throw their second rock and book it. They ran towards the lizard, throwing a rock right before they got in biting range, then jumped above it, quickly moving to the small opening in the wall that led up. When they finished crawling through the pipe, Watcher noticed a third pole that led directly where they were headed. That would've been useful a few minutes ago.
After a few more minutes of climbing, Watcher reached what seemed to be the last stretch to the top, which consisted of a long pole. They were slow to climb, enjoying the view. They had never seen anything quite like this before. After some time, the sun began to set and the clouds were painted in pink. It was only then that they noticed more boxes, like the one they were on. They seemed to stretch infinitely into the distance. The clouds began to rumble. The rain was coming, they realized, despite never experiencing it. Or perhaps they did, in the past they didn’t remember?
The Watcher did not stay to witness the downpour. Something was tugging at them, making them go to the source. They crawled through the pipe behind them, and then up the pole. Then, they were at the source of the tugging: something that seemed to exist and not at the same time, like an Echo of its past. It spoke to them, and they couldn’t help but wonder what the thing’s name was. If it had one, they did not know, for the thing didn’t tell them.
“OAOAOAOA! Minerals! Sinew! Liquids! OAOAOA liquids?? Do you excrete, little thing?? Yes you do! OAOAOAOAOA!! Yes you do excrete OAOAOAO!!!! All those minerals you worked so hard for, right back to the soil! As will YOU, OAOAOAOA!! What a waste! What a joke! OAOAOAOAOAOAOAOA!!”
That was the most nonsensical thing I have heard since waking up, was their last thought before passing out.
When Watcher awoke next, it was in a different region called Chimney Canopy. It did not take long to find an Echo. They seemed to only reveal themselves to those adept at surviving in a region, their presence signified by a flash of light, gold flakes, and the feeling of reality rippling around them. Watcher expected to find a different Echo, but it was the one with the silly hat again.
“You again!” the Echo spoke, seemingly excited, “Odd little thing, trembling. Peeping eyes. SO PEEPING OAOAOAOA!! But I suppose you must peep. So many sharp teeth and claws in this meat world. They look to grind up your sticks!! OAOAOAOAOAOA!!” They paused for a moment. “Here, I will give you a gift.”
The next time they awoke (in a region called Industrial Complex) they found they could camouflage. If they did it for too long, however, they passed out. This time, they did not follow the tug immediately, instead taking time to explore. The region was normal, but something in Watcher’s mind told them something was supposed to be wrong. The lizards were not supposed to be normal. The bluefruit was not supposed to be healthy. The region was fine and that was wrong.
After a few cycles of trying to figure out what was missing, (spoiler alert, they didn't) they followed the tug. It led them to a region called Shaded Citadel.
The Watcher hated Shaded Citadel. And that was not a word they used lightly. It was dark and terrible and filled with spiders. Perhaps the universe took pity on them, as they found the Echo quickly. It was Silly Hat again.
“OAOAOA! It is this thing! Have you really not been eaten? Well well well well! Not in this strand, no. But don’t be too proud OAOAOA!! I can see your reflections, yes!! Behold: Chomped by a flying thing! Torn to ribbons by a crawling thing! Pulled into the earth by wiggling things!! OAOAOAOAOA!!! A world of teeth! and claws! and beaks! and pressures! and acids! Forever-where and forever-when! OAOAOAOA!!!!”
The Watcher felt reality ripple around them, like a drop of water on a still pond. It cracked, and in the middle they could see their destination: a place made of stone, with stairs and walls and doors that seemed to defy gravity and time. The Watcher could do naught but be sucked into the rift in reality. As they were, they could feel time and space become meaningless, their sense of either vanishing. Their hunger, once almost painful, disappeared like they smelt a large meal.
With a rough landing, Watcher glanced around the new region. It all mirrored what they saw in the crack- stone and moss and stairs and arches, in every direction. With not much else to do, they began to explore, perhaps find something interesting or noteworthy. They did not find anything, for a long while. Then, they heard something new. A voice, unlike the robotic undertones the Iterators had, and much too different from their own kind to be familiar. Watcher did not know what they were saying, but there were other voices, and they seemed to be playing a game of some sort?
After a moment of pondering, Watcher decided they had nothing to lose, and approached the voices without camouflage.