Bdubs knows that Etho isnât the only talented redstone engineer on Hermitcraft.
Itâd be ignorant, stupid, to think that Etho is the only one who knows how to make complex and elegant and effective machines, especially with creations like Decked Out and the Worldeater right in front of him. Heâs seen firsthand what hermits like Tango, and Doc, and Xisuma are capable of, and itâs definitely never been something heâs coughed at.
But heâs never, never seen someone do what Etho does.
Ethoâs always been subtle; heâs humble, never one to hog the spotlight or really even hold it. Everyone knows that Hermitcraft holds power, something deep and mystical and fantastical within Her roots and soil and stone. For as long as Hermitcraft worlds have existed, people have watched Cleo bring wooden armor stands to life with love and precision, watched Grian summon thousands of eyes to his will in order to see everything and nothing, watched Bdubs himself bring mountains to the surface with what looks like minimal effort. Still, for all of Hermitcraftâs wonder and power, there are only murmurs of rumors of what it is Etho does.
Thatâs not to say his work isnât extraordinarily famous, no, any redstone engineer worth their dust has heard of the Etho Clock, has heard of the man who practically discovered the stuff. Everyone knows what it is Etho brings to worlds, what he brings to Hermitcraft. The mystery is, what does Hermitcraft bring to Etho? When Xb calls tsunamis to shore and sings with dolphins, when Cub and Scar shapeshift both themselves and the world around them with gray-blue shimmer, where is Etho?
Well, thatâs the thing. Hermitcraft never blessed Etho with a gift, never allowed Her power to crackle and pop and shimmer within him the same way it did everybody else. It didnât need to, not when Etho was already so much more than what Her power could provide.
Bdubs has seen firsthand what it is that Etho can do, and itâs something that makes him feel blessed; Etho holds his power as he does his face, in a hidden, secret, barely-there regard. While TFC tore through stone and obsidian with inhuman resilience and strength, while Joe spoke to the void and you could almost hear it whisper back, while Impulse summoned darkness itself to his beck and call, Bdubs watched Etho tear the earth beneath him to shreds. He watched streams of red, unprocessed power tear through the ground, watched Etho glow as if he were another unit of it.Â
The world always seemed to dull in comparison to Etho, as if his hair was whiter than snow and his eye redder than blood, compared to him, everything always seemed less. Etho has always been seen as the First, an entity born into the Nothing, an invulnerable and imposing character paired with a timid personality that made him seem breakable. Bdubs always wonders if Etho is afraid of it, the way he can crack the earth and pull pure redstone out of it with something hardly more than a breath of effort, the way the dust swirls and twists around him like heâs at the center of his own solar system.Â
His power is a dangerous thing; he has a ragged, twisting scar and forever-red eye to prove that much. It happened when he was young, Etho told Bdubs once, when Etho first ended up outside of the Void and realized he could tear the world up at his will. One of his first redstone experiments, he had torn himself up in the process, and it was something respawn could never fix. Perhaps the first thing that made him careful, that made him want to master redstone itself.Â
But importantly, importantly, Ethoâs power was never a gift of Hermitcraft. It existed long before the first Hermitcraft world, back when grass and stone and oak and sand were young. It seemed as if the Universe and the concept of worlds were created, and Etho was set in place to destroy them. He never did, he never wanted to. Exploration and building and creativity were what made Etho Etho, and maybe thatâs another reason why he keeps his power to himself. Even with his childlike joy at the prospect of TNT mining, even with his willingness to carve out worlds to his imagining, itâs always been in the name of creation.Â
Creation, creation, creation. It rushed through Etho like blood, a sense of urgency to write and blueprint new projects, build them up and leave many unfinished, just to get something down. How could a force like that be capable of so much destruction? Bdubs has seen him twist fate, seen him hand Bdubs life after life and scoff in the face of Death itself. Maybe the void had been cruel to him, maybe the nothingness went against Ethoâs nature as a creator.
Regardless, regardless, Etho had power, rippling through him, capable of ripping space apart, and still. Still, he chose to create.
