Chapter Text
After MCC 17, everyone was more or less getting along. Fruitninja occasionally returned for dinner. Ren came by to offer his congratulations. The hermits started gifting golden carrots and elytras again, and the kids instinctively picked up the chores. Cub built a new parkour venue just because (“Parkour? Parkour.”). Slowly but surely, the Hermit HBG household took shape again.
All Stars came around, bringing a reconciliation of the MCC 9 Blue Bats. Ren and False were amiable now anyways. It was chaotic and a bit scuffed (Survival Games were removed from the roster, and they couldn’t even try to have a repeat of their Survival Games domination). Grid Runners felt like a family reunion with Fruit’s sudden inability to whack people with golf clubs. They were all laughing so much that they could barely move. And when Ren declared, “I still think fondly of the Blue Bats”, he meant it.
HBomb’s prophesized MCC team of False, Ren, Martyn, and Joel came in winter and they were all dressed as the Mint Maids. Martyn and False continued to be strangely efficient, Ren enthusiastically made comments about Martyn’s maid outfit, and Joel’s connections with everyone kept him from being the fourth wheel. The team was chaotically British and they ended up having a great time. The year ended with a bang.
Everyone was happy. And life was peaceful.
Or so it seemed.
Because Martyn could sense that Ren was spending more and more time away from Renchanting. He left early and returned late. At first, Martyn ignored it because he loved and trusted his liege, but the consistent behaviour was making him doubt Ren. And like a suspicious housewife, Martyn began to prod around.
Where was Ren going? Was it merely for business as he’d said? Was Ren hiding from him? And if he was, then what was he hiding?
Martyn didn’t like it one bit. So he decided to follow the footsteps of his good friend BigB— whoops, Terry— and go undercover. And snoop around.
Martyn rummaged through the pile of papers on top of the enchanting table. A leaflet about Bdubs’ hair salon (with an extra note about dog ears), MCC sign up forms (with no mention of False, Martyn realised gleefully), expired reputation points from Scar, Weetabix boxes, fanart… nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was one particular fanart of Martyn putting out Ren’s flames during Last Life, and it contained enough homoromantic tension that Martyn pocketed it.
A piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Martyn picked it up. On it was unfamiliar handwriting. As Martyn read the words, his betrayed heart turned cold and the world wobbled underneath his feet. (This was coincidentally what Cleo felt when Martyn pushed her off a bridge that one time.)
“Hey Ren ;)
Would love to see you in the special clothes I sent you :) I know they might be a bit embarrassing but we need it for our… ritual ;)
The G.O.A.T. eagerly awaits our next meeting. Do not disappoint me. To be fair, you have been satisfactory for our past few meetings. Lol.
- D”
Horror and shock crashed over Martyn like an unpleasant version of being assaulted by Maidtyn fanart on Tumblr. So Ren was indeed cheating on him! And what monstrosity was this person making Ren wear?? And more importantly, who the fuck was the G.O.A.T.???
Martyn took deep breaths. This was fine! This was absolutely fine! Martyn was an independent survivalist gaslighter who could do things just fine on his own! In fact, he could probably do things better when he was on his own!
And maybe this was a misunderstanding! Because Ren would totally never leave him behind! They were best buddies forever! Hand and King! Martyn and Ren were a constant in the Life series, much like how False and Ren were a constant in MCC—
Fuck.
Martyn had ruined that.
And now someone else would ruin it for Martyn.
With trembling hands, Martyn lifted the note to his nose. It smelled like… gunpowder and grass, weirdly enough? No hints there. And Martyn wasn’t keen on sniffing some note that Ren’s affair partner (?) had written. Blegh.
Martyn could probably scour the entire server and beyond for this mysterious person that Ren was apparently hooking up with, but he didn’t really feel up to it. Hence, Martyn picked up his phone and did the next best thing— which was to text Grian.
Martyn: Hey Grian I can trust you right
Grian: of course
Martyn: Keep this a secret
Grian: most definitely
Martyn: do you know of anyone who calls themself the Goat and has a name that starts with the letter D
Grian: That’s probably Doc?
Grian: Docm77
Grian: the guy with the biggest hole on hermitcraft
Grian: and we all contributed to filling it up
Martyn: Oh.
Martyn: Thanks.
Grian: why did you ask?
Martyn: no reason lol
Grian: lol
Grian: don’t tell me you also blew up his diamond bore machine
Martyn: There’s a What and you did What
Grian: just don’t touch doc’s diamonds or you’ll accidentally start a war
Martyn: Huh.
Martyn: I’m more concerned about who Doc is touching, not what.
Martyn: remember to keep this a secret
Grian understood the situation instantaneously. Two seconds later, he clicked on a friend’s contact, internally screaming.
Grian: HELP Martyn just asked about Doc
False: ???
Grian: he’s about to discover #SHIPrendoc
False: Rip to Martyn but he’s already lost :P
Grian: Looks like Martyn is gonna get demolished in the way Scar and I got him at Dogwarts ahaha
False: Ren is joining the war against Treebark on the side of Rendoc
Grian: Doc is to Ren what Ren is to Martyn. This will end spectacularly and we’RE GONNA MAKE SO MUCH MONEY FROM LIVESTREAMING IT WOOHOO
So. Docm77.
Martyn needed to do serious and verified research on this guy, so naturally he opened up Twitter. As Martyn scrolled through tweet after tweet, his eyes widened in horror and fascination. Bombs were exploding in his ears. Doc’s tweets spun in his mind, teasing and taunting and feverish and sometimes downright crazy.
The emojis. The “lol”s. The goat. Hermatrix. Hivemind. Tomatoes. Octagon. And Ren.
It got worse. With every tweet Martyn read, it got worse. (But to be fair to Doc, that was the average Twitter experience.)
Martyn did not need to know details about Doc’s most private of areas (as Ren would put it). And Martyn really did not need to know how penetrable the impenetrable vault was (it was “at least 20cm”).
Why was Doc making out with someone’s father? And why was Doc described as “he’s got a tongue like an electric eel and he likes the taste of a man’s tonsils”?? Should Martyn be concerned? Impressed? Or something else entirely??
Martyn scrolled down. So Doc invented a breastfeeding contraption and put it on himself. Moving on swiftly—
“Day 1 at the nude spa. I won.” Great! Totally unnecessary information! Totally didn’t matter that Martyn was called Littlewood!
Martyn felt like he was going crazy. What the actual fuck was Ren doing behind his back? Nothing about this seemed innocent. And what sort of …beast was this Docm77?!
Martyn had no other option. He had to see this Doc fella for himself. He was too invested. So when Ren left the house, Martyn followed him, because even when Martyn was an “unguided hand”, the compass in his heart still pointed towards Ren (like it always did).
Martyn hid in the shadows, mercifully did not fart, and carefully approached Ren and Doc’s meeting spot. It was a huge structure made from deepslate and copper, and named the “Octagon”. Martyn frowned. Okay, that name sounded cooler than Renchanting, but Martyn was the one who came up with Renchanting, so he would defend it with his dying breath. Martyn had never left Dogwarts to the extent that he would build those cobblestone walls no matter where he went, even if he was on New Life SMP (not to be confused with a new Life SMP).
The mysterious Doc emerged from the shadows, and suddenly, Martyn wasn’t confused anymore. Like literally everyone Ren was crazy about, Doc had a green colour scheme. He had goat horns, which Ren probably liked because he was a furry. He had prosthetics and one eye glowed a bright red in the dark, casting alluring shadows over his figure. And he admittedly had a handsome face.
… Wait, what was Martyn supposed to be doing here again?
Doc chuckled. He had a nice chuckle. “Hey, Ren.”
Ren grinned at Doc, and jealousy once again gnawed at Martyn’s heart. “Doc! What’s up, my brother from another sapling!”
“Heh. What did you think about the clothes I sent you for our secret ritual?”
Ren gulped. “Umm, to be honest, Doc, I don’t like them very much. That goat cultist outfit makes my head look bald.”
Martyn blinked. Goat cultist outfit? What the fuck was that?
“Anyways, I got us other outfits,” Ren said cheerfully, and he pulled them out from his bag. “Look at these sniffer onesies! Aren’t they adorable?”
Doc and Martyn were both flabbergasted. “What do we even need those for?” Doc asked.
“Not gonna lie, Doc, the Hermatrix is kind of outdated in this economy. I know we started meeting up for Octagon business purposes, but we’ve moved beyond that. But we can avenge your filled hole with a new scheme!”
And just like that, Martyn’s heart cracked. Ren basically confirmed the affair. He just said this was more than a business meeting. And Martyn couldn’t help but think that Ren was doing much more with Doc than he ever did with Martyn. Like, Ren never offered sniffer onesies to Martyn… not that he wanted to wear them.
Doc seemed amused. “I’m all ears, Ren.”
“We can breed sniffer babies,” Ren declared, “so we can use the noise to cover up our traces when we spy on those Buttercups.”
Martyn had zero idea what was going on. What was a Buttercup? And what was up with Doc’s gigantic hole??
“We can camouflage ourselves with the sniffer onesies! No one would ever be able to tell the difference!”
Doc seemed to consider it. “But the sniffers are huge, dude. Won’t we look extra small compared to the real sniffers?”
Ren grinned proudly. “Not to worry, my dude! We’ll dress up as a single sniffer together! I’ll be the sniffer’s head, and you’ll be the bottom!”
The resulting silence was suddenly very loud. Martyn stuffed a fist in his mouth to stop himself from screaming. Even Doc was taken aback. “Dude, what the heck?! I-I don’t want to be the bottom!”
Ren’s eyes were pleading. “Please, Doc? For me? I did so much for you!”
This situation was both heartbreaking and hilarious. Martyn didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Ren’s complete betrayal came as a surprise to Martyn. Martyn had always thought that he would be the one to backstab Ren. After all, he'd always planned to betray Ren from day one. (Ignoring how the betrayal wasn’t in the room with him right now.)
Seeing Doc’s hesitation, Ren continued with his grand speech to flatter Doc. “C’mon, Doc! You’re my favourite! Have my puppies! You are the most handsome hermit of all the hermits! There is no doubt! Everyone knows it! Also the smartest! And did I say handsomenest? Because both!”
Doc shifted uneasily. The flattery was working. Unfortunately for Doc, he had a soft spot for Ren. People’s first impression of them was that Doc was the intimidating one, but then it became obvious that it was the exact opposite, and Ren had too much control over Doc. Ren was always Doc’s exception, and Doc would do the most insane shit for his little chihuahua watchdog.
Doc laughed. “Well, since you made those sniffer outfits already, I guess I’ll do it.”
Ren’s eyes were shining like Castiel in that infamous Destiel meme. “I love you!” he declared passionately, emotional tears streaming down his cheeks.
Doc’s reply was nonchalant, yet fond. “Of course. Tell me something new?”
Doc’s reply completely shattered Martyn. The man was too stunned to speak. This was the power of the Doc Martens shoe brand! And it turned out “I love you” really was the worst thing that he’d ever heard.
Martyn’s lip wobbled as he stared at the scene in front of him. Ren loved Doc. Ren left Martyn behind. What would Martyn do now that the homoerotic center of his narrative was gone? Include him in the namelist anyway? Tie his red scarf around his waist? Do an hour long lore stream about how much he missed Ren and was never the same afterwards? Talk about how “Third Life never ended for me”? What now? What could he do other than to join the crazy Renchanting fans on Tumblr?
Martyn couldn’t bear to see whatever the fuck Ren and Doc were doing. He sorrowfully turned away. A single tear slid down his cheek and shattered his very soul. Martyn had said he was going to betray Ren from the start, so why was he crying like a bitch? And why did his soul shatter when Ren left him? Did “you and me, together forever” mean nothing at all to Ren?
This was fine. This was fine! Martyn didn’t need Ren anyway! He could do his gaslight gatekeep girlboss stuff on his own! Martyn’s vision was now blurry with tears. It felt like he was right where he’d been left at Dogwarts. Everybody moved on but he stayed there.
But of course, Martyn wasn’t a soggy wet pathetic scrunkly like Ren was (or, coincidentally, like False was). He still had his survival instincts, and that came in the form of pettiness. Martyn lurked around, dug into Doc’s belongings, and took out a single shimmering diamond. Through his tears, Martyn smirked. As stupid as it might seem, this was his revenge. Doc stole Ren away, hence Martyn would steal from Doc. It was only fair.
So with Doc’s diamond safely hidden in his pocket, Martyn fled. The chilly night wind was like a knife against his tear-stained cheeks. Maybe the fans were right— he’d never reached spring, and he was stuck in an eternal winter.
Martyn didn’t know what to do. So instead of sending a text to Ren or doing literally anything reasonable, Martyn logged on Tumblr at 7:32am and wrote a quick drabble about him and Ren. It ended with “luck be with ye…. hand.” Naturally, Trafficblr exploded. Martyn’s notes were filled with people screaming “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HIM” and “WHY IS HE WRITING FANFIC”. It got to the point that even Martyn’s thumbnail artist saw it. The drabble got 2k notes. Martyn returned to it, added a sneaky “trafficblr” tag to the previously untagged post, and it surged up to over 3k notes. This was a normal day for Trafficblr and Martyn.
And that was it. The end of Renchanting. It began with a bang, but it ended with scarcely a whimper.
Martyn was coping extremely well. That meant he went on Tumblr and reblogged fanart of Ren tenderly kissing his forehead. His fans called his Tumblr post a “gayass little drabble”. He also watched animatics of him and Ren and sadly murmured “my liege.”
Time wouldn’t fly, and it was like Martyn was paralysed by it. He would like to be his old self again, but he was still trying to find it. After plaid shirt days and nights when Ren made Martyn his own, now Ren mailed him back his things, and Martyn walked home alone.
But Martyn kept his old scarf from that very first week, because it reminded him of innocence and it smelled like Ren. He couldn’t get rid of it, because he remembered it all too well.
But thankfully for Martyn’s sanity, before more Taylor Swift lyrics could describe what a real fucking legacy Ren left on Martyn, he bumped into a certain someone who could understand what he was going through.
(But it was only a partial understanding though, because no one was as irreversibly changed by Ren as Martyn was.)
False knew something was wrong when she went to get groceries and saw a red-eyed Martyn hopelessly clinging onto Rendog™ merch (read: the Red Winter scarf). She awkwardly approached him. “Hi.”
Martyn looked like a ghost. An unguided hand. A very sad looking block of ice. A depressed blue glowstick. His eyes were puffy. False suddenly felt a sense of solidarity with him.
“Ren left you too, didn’t he?”
A barely perceptible nod. Martyn’s lips parted. “He… he told Doc that he loved him,” he whispered.
False was not remotely surprised, but she patted Martyn’s back. “There, there,” she soothed. “It’s gonna be alright. You’ll be fine without him. Better, even.”
“Excuse me,” snipped a particularly irritated customer at the build mart, “you’re blocking my way. Are you guys gonna get in line?”
Martyn burst into tears. “That’s what he said!!”
False ushered Martyn to the cashier, helped him pay for his items, and invited him home for a nice cup of tea.
“Okay,” False said, who was getting more nosy than she was concerned, “Spill.”
Martyn obliged her immediately. “Ren left me for Doc!” he cried in anguish. “They were even making babies together!”
False held up a hand. “Yeah, stop, I do not want to hear about that. But honestly, that’s typical of Ren. He goes around and does that to everyone because that’s just the way he is.”
Martyn slumped. “But I thought we were special. Like, it was never the same after Third Life.”
“To Ren, everyone’s special in their own way. Although, to be fair, there’s not much that can beat Rendoc. Those two are crazy. Like, they’re even called Heterosexual Life Partners on the TV Tropes page for Hermitcraft.”
Martyn sighed. “Yeah, I’m no match for the twinning #SHIPrendoc YouTube comments. Like, the most I did was to acknowledge the existence of Treebark when it was coincidentally the first day of Treebark Week. And I liked a post about the Treebark Ao3 tag being on Twitter. And I reblogged a post that said I was ‘in love with my boss’. And I also said the words “Treebark Week” on stream. And I wrote a 50 word drabble of an AU of me and Ren being the last two in Third Life. And Rendoc still won. Man, what more can I say?”
There was an awed silence.
“Well,” False said. “Congrats buddy, that’s the worst anyone’s ever done it.”
Martyn looked at her nervously. “Is it really?”
“I mean, none of us have been fundamentally changed for the worse,” False said, whose Twitch chat obligatorily mentioned Ren every time she was in MCC without him. “And I’m pretty sure none of us carry around Rendog memorabilia.”
Martyn tilted his head. “You literally have Ren’s Gigapick proudly displayed in a glass cabinet behind you,” he pointed out.
False turned. The shiny enchanted Gigapick hung on the wall, with Ren’s name engraved on the handle. She always kept trinkets from her friends to remember special events, and she’d randomly stuffed a bunch of them in a cabinet. And Ren’s pick happened to be big. So it made for a nice centrepiece. (The name “Gigapick” was lame though, considering she named her pickaxes after different textures of peanut butter.)
“Oh. I stole it from him, so it doesn’t count,” False replied loftily.
Martyn spluttered, “You stole from my liege—“
“Well, technically, it’s not stealing if you’re not caught. Don’t tell me you won’t do the same.”
Martyn opened his mouth, then shut it. His hand shifted against the stolen diamond from Doc hidden in his pocket. His mood brightened considerably when he realised they both liked stealing things. “Okay yeah, you’re right,” he admitted.
“I’m always right,” False quipped drily, but continued. “Cheer up, Martyn. Ren’s… always been kind of bad at this.”
Martyn squinted at False. “You don’t have to put him down to make me feel better.”
Whoops, because that was exactly what False was doing. “Anyways, for example, Ren doesn’t know how to give gifts.”
Martyn thought about the Red Winter Axe that changed the trajectory of his life and the Red Winter banner he still had around his waist. “What gifts?”
“For starters, he tried to give me a flower once. Or twice. Or many times. I don’t remember because I don’t really care.”
Martyn felt a stab of jealousy in his heart. Had Ren ever given him flowers? He kinda wanted to get flowers from Ren too. “What flower?”
“Uh, I don’t remember. A red poppy, maybe?”
Now Martyn felt downright nauseous. He was having a lot of flashbacks to the Flower Husbands. “Well, alright,” he mumbled grumpily. “What did you do with the flower then?”
“I tried to eat it from his hands,” False said without missing a beat.
Martyn blinked, his mind stuttering to catch up. “You… what?”
“And he didn’t give me the flower because I wanted to eat it.”
“Oh.”
“Then he tried giving me a nether star,” False continued, perfectly nonchalant.
Martyn already had a bad feeling. “… What did you do then?”
“I threw it back to him. He missed the catch. The tip of the nether star got chipped but it’s no big deal.”
Oh, because having one defective nether star totally wasn’t a big deal in the ludicrously rich world of Hermitcraft. Martyn cleared his throat.
“I think that says more about your inability to receive Ren’s gifts than Ren’s inability to give gifts.”
“Oh, but he’s bad at receiving gifts too. Didn’t you try to give him some netherwart at the start of Last Life?”
Martyn eyed False. “Yeah. It was— I wanted to show him I still cared, y’know. Help another, never doubt. And it was somewhat of a reference to our Dogwarts faction and the netherwart we grew there.”
“Yeah, that’s great and all that, but wasn’t Ren completely oblivious to the gift? He said the wart just appeared in his inventory randomly.”
“How do you even know that? You weren’t there.”
“Well, you’re not the only one who goes on Tumblr,” False said cryptically. “Regardless, the point is: Ren is bad at all of this.”
Martyn nodded slowly. “We’re everything; he’s just Ren.”
“Exactly.” False seemed pleased that Martyn was finally getting it. “So don’t sweat it.”
“Ren was always talking about sweating,” Martyn moaned. “Sweating in places that he shouldn’t be sweating in.”
“Martyn—”
“He used to call me that,” Martyn said, a little sadly.
“That’s because it’s your name.” False wasn’t really exasperated, she was more amused. “You can’t let everything remind you of him.”
“That’s probably good advice,” Martyn said, like he hadn’t dedicated half of his Limited Life lore to Ren and how devastated he was when Ren left him and how the lack of Ren meant he received less comfort and how he was permanently made more selfish after the loss of Ren.
“Anyways,” False said, “would you like to join the ‘Fuck Rendog’ group? We gather around to say a huge ‘fuck you’ to that stupid dog.”
Martyn chuckled. He wasn’t sure how False managed to cheer him up, but she did, and he was glad for it. “That’s quite funny, but no thanks. Enough about me, how have you been lately?”
False shrugged. “I’ve been doing just fine.”
“Gotta gotta be down, because I want it all,” Martyn couldn’t help but chime in. The pull of Mr Brightside, especially on British people, was irresistible. “It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this…”
And with that, Martyn was unfortunately reminded of Ren again. False tried not to roll her eyes. “Go and take your moping elsewhere. Reblog some fanart on Tumblr or whatever.”
Martyn stared at False. “Wait, you’re on Tumblr too?”
“Yup, of course, I just told you. And Tumblr is literally how this crazy saga started.” A pause. “Both in-universe and out of it.”
“It’s unfair that you’re the one using the fourth-wall breaking quota, not me,” Martyn complained.
“What can I say? As someone’s MCC main, I get special privileges.”
“Great, now I miss Ren in MCC.”
False sighed and put her head in her hands. “Great, because now you’ve also reminded me of it. My chat misses him and now I miss him too. But it’s fine, because at least we won together, and our whole gimmick isn’t placing in the middle of any competitive event like a bunch of losing dogs.”
Martyn gasped, affronted. “Dude, that was uncalled for!”
“Sorry, sorry.” False patted Martyn’s shoulder. “Just couldn’t resist.”
So Ren did the Octagon and the Hermatrix with Doc. And just as quickly, Ren was absorbed into the #Gigaverse and cozied up with Cub to bake Gigapies. Then in a blink of an eye, Ren was doing Gigalogs with his log daddy Keralis. A few months later, Ren had declared himself King of Hermitcraft with the tiniest crown possible and left Bdubs hopelessly devoted to him. After that, Ren and Scar became space alien pirates and Ren asked if he could make babies with Scar and if Scar could kiss him (in that order).
Then Ren drifted back to False (or rather, she approached him) and they did a few collabs. Then Ren gave birth to an endermite named Dennis (midwifed by Gem) and Iskall stole his child. Dennis would grow up to be a doctor and masseuse and had a dexterous mouth. Iskall accidentally called himself IskallMA. It was just a normal day on the Hermitcraft server. When Cub asked what had happened, Gem replied with “Ren happened”. And to Cub, that explained everything.
Unlike King Ren’s reign, the members of the Hermit HBG household had expanded significantly. As MCCs went on, more people were added, and hence more people became friends. Soon, the big hermit house was packed with people. After MCC, they would all gather to chat and have a great time.
Pete and Grian were having an enthusiastic discussion about Build Mart, while Fruit teased H about being a pensioner and being stuck at the retirement home. Cub and Illumina were chatting about speedrunning and Cub displayed an interest in MCSR’s events. Etho and Gem were comparing the size of their decks and their key luck in Decked Out 2. Scar was annoying everyone (Grian, in particular) by talking about a “dong” (it was meant to be Grian’s gong). Bdubs was smiling and waving at everyone like he was a celebrity passing by in a car. H got really excited that he was finally adding Impulse to his hermit collection. Cleo and Martyn sent bombastic side eyes at each other. False and Pearl complimented each other on the scuffed MCC outfits they made.
Ren lurked outside of the Hermit HBG household and he wistfully gazed at the warm light coming in from the windows. Even though it had been more than a year since he was in MCC, he was sure his friends would still welcome him. So why was Ren afraid?
Ren took one step closer, then another. He had been so bad at getting over MCC 9 Blue Bats that he’d put on his All Stars skin for a Decked Out 2 run (he’d failed miserably, but let’s not talk about that). Of course he still thought of the Blue Bats fondly. Of course he missed being in MCC.
The victory from so long ago lingered like a tattoo kiss and haunted all of his what-ifs. He wondered if his friends cursed him for the longest time and chased his shadow in the grocery line, but in the end, they probably knew Ren would miss them once the thrill of being with new people expired. Ren always did. He loved his friends to the point he couldn’t choose to stay with a single person only. Yes, so maybe he was a “cheater”, but he always came back without fail.
MCC. Blue Bats. Hermitcraft. Renchanting. Octagon. Gigapies. Gigalogs. And so much more. Perhaps Ren was greedy, but he wanted all of those. He missed everyone, so why couldn’t he have everyone? Why couldn’t he have it all?
So Ren cautiously approached the front porch of the Hermit HBG household. A huge “Welcome home cheater” banner was draped over the doorway. Ren didn’t dare to look at anyone through the window, but he was sure they were all aware of his presence.
And so he stood there, the divorcee, the deadbeat dad, the dog at the door. He raised his fist, and for the first time in forever, he knocked.
It was time for Ren to come home.