MCYT Oneshots And Other Random Stuff

I Quit

EX had the worst luck.

Of all the servers. Of all the servers!

He already knew why he'd been assigned to the Dream SMP. It was the server no one wanted.

So of course the Council had decided to send the newest Watcher in their ranks, the one desperate to prove he could live up to his brother's legacy as one of the best admins in Minecraft.

At least the Watcher quarters of the server were nice. EX got his own shiny quartz estate in the Code, right next to the castle of DreamXD, the server owner.

Unlike most admins, DreamXD was really more of a god, the title of admin falling onto the shoulders of his mortal counterpart, Dream. But all the powers of the admin were exclusive to DreamXD.

EX had to admit DreamXD was a little... out of it. His moods would swing from aggressive to pleasant in mere moments. But at least he was someone to talk to.

Although DreamXD did more warning than talking. On his first day, the server god had given EX a long list of server rules and also several side notes about who to watch out for— some kid who liked CDs, some dude who wore a mask, and some guy with pink hair.

(He was also given several "history books" on the server. The more he read, the more he realized why no one ever volunteered to be this server's Watcher.)

According to the books, "Tommy", "Technoblade", and "Wilbur" were currently a team in exile, while the country of "Manberg" was ruled by "Schlatt", a corrupt dictator.

All of this, and it was only October 16th. The server drama had apparently mainly started in July.

About three months. The server had gone to shiz in three months!

But it couldn't be that bad, right? All EX had to do was keep order, stop any irreversible deaths from happening, and make notes on the server happenings. How hard could it be?

His first task came in the form of monitoring some kind of player festival. EX watched through a window in the Code as people danced on a dance floor, while two others spied from a rooftop.

EX could see the little numbers and symbols floating around each player, tiny translucent shapes that shifted colors to form a glowing aura around each person. He studied them carefully, as his training had taught him to do.

There— that man, in the trench coat. His aura glowed a dark blue threaded with cloudy gray, trimmed with violent red. Sad, depressed, given up, with darker intentions borne out of anger.

EX would have to watch out for him, but he shouldn't be a threat just yet. He reached out a hand and twisted fate anyway. Whatever this man would attempt to do next, he would fail— and if he tried again, someone would appear to stop him.

That ought to fix that problem.

Everything seemed to be okay, so EX stopped looking for a while to text Xisuma.

When he looked back, an explosion of fireworks blinded his vision.

He watched as a short teenage kid, the same one he'd seen decorating for this festival earlier, fell to the ground to a chorus of screams around the country.

EX stood, frozen as he watched another kid and the dead one's murderer start to fight on the stage. Two other people— the president and his vice president— fell dead on the stage as well. The murderer turned to the crowd and started firing.

What should I do? What should I do? Nothing in his training had prepared him for this!

EX watched, helpless, as the server went to shiz once more.

The Watchers received his letter of resignation that night.

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