Blood And Stone (ch 1, part 1)

Before him lie swirling, shivering violets and mysterious particles. It had such a mysterious and vibrant glow; colors thematically opposite to the fire and brimstone with which the portal originated, but fitting nonetheless. There were few things in the world like it- in fact, the only thing he could think to compare it to was the eyes and physique of an Enderman, a lanky and thin creature he had only seen in books. It was just as novel as it was frightening, but more than anything, it was interesting. His curiosity would get the better of him this day, and this would set the course for the rest of his life.

Steve was a temporary resident of Cobblebrook Village, a quaint little place nestled in the belly of the Lapis valley. He lived on the outskirts of town for its peace and quiet and closeness to the forest, but he'd spend much of his day in town anyways. Odd jobs were abundant here, and so he nearly always had something he could be helping with. The only reason he didn't have a steady job was because his aspiration was not to settle down. He only planned to be here for a couple of years and then move on, but until then he wanted to see what this town was about.

He'd heard rumors that this place had some information on some archeological mysteries, but thus far, the place hadn't quite lived up to that. He'd found some interesting books in Cobblebrook library, but they were more like the ramblings of an individual who spent a little too much time caving and came out all wrong than someone trustworthy and competent. Anything worth discovering was already in museums in the towns over, and even they weren't that interesting. This portal, however, entirely changed his view of the place.

It was quite out of the way of any path, and the only reason he'd come across it was on a search for wildberries. It was buried in dirt and mud on a cliffside, and anyone less keen in the senses was likely to miss it. Digging it up took quite some time, with it being about half a day's walk and in quite a hidden spot. Between his jobs and tending to his small farm, it took him a couple of days to even gather what he needed. His patience would reward him in the form of a couple of discoveries, the first of which being Blood-stone, as he named it.

It was an organic, stony substance, surrounding the base of the portal. It was warm too, like it had never soaked up the cold from the earth around it. This was interesting because it must have been buried there for hundreds of years, the way the trees and plants had wormed their roots through it, but there was no corrosion nor sign that it had been damaged. This undoubtedly piqued his interest.

Over a few days, he conducted several experiments on it. He sliced off a sample and dunked it into a bucket of water. The water got soaked up like a sponge and evaporated within minutes. And in the process of breaking it, he found some spores. They were dead, but they were unlike anything he'd ever seen- they were small and round and crimson in color, sort of shaped like a spider's eye with a crimson tail at the end. Among his findings, he noted that the sample wasn't affected by fire. It didn't shrink in size, nor did it char when exposed to open flame. Given the time it would burn forever, he deduced. He took note of all of these observations in his notebook, and he continued.

Things began to get strange after these discoveries. The next day, he went to conduct more experiments on the portal, only to find some of the frame had been knocked to the ground. An entire chunk of obsidian was misplaced, which was strange- he was sure that nothing in this forest was strong enough to cause that kind of damage, especially given how sturdy the portal had been thus far. He spent all day attempting to put the frame back together, but when the next day rolled around, even more of the frame had been knocked over. With some investigation, he came across the writing ‘STOP' messily etched into the dirt nearby. Well, if that wasn't foreboding.
He was far too curious to stop now though.
It was raining by the next day, so he decided to just stay at home. And by the following day, he was back at the site… and was greeted by a most awful sight. His portal was half buried in this blood stone! He spent another couple of days unburying it without any notable interference. By the twenty-second day, all was repaired again, and he could resume his experiments.

This time, he decided to play a bit more with the fire. A spark of flame flew over to theportal's frame, and in the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of purple light. And, like that, with another strike of flint and steel, his portal was lit.

The first thing to enter the portal was his hands on account of them being in the frame. He pulled them away immediately, but noticed no ill effects besides an unnatural warmth. And so he tried it again, deciding this time to use his journal as a test subject. Almost as soon as he did, he felt something grab it and snatch it out of his hand, causing him to gasp and jump back. He swore he could see the faint outline of a humanoid through the portal's frame. Now that he had the motivation of going to retrieve his journal, that and his curiosity far outweighed any fear he felt in that moment. He took a breath, stepped forward, and poked his head inside.

---

The Man with White Eyes (in a sea of red) (ch 1, pt 2)

Once his head was through the portal, a wave of nausea hit him. Thick and muggy heat hit his face, and it filled his lungs, making his breath heavier. He coughed and hacked as his body adjusted to the stifling air. The heat made his eyes sting, but he kept them open to see what this unfamiliar place held.

He was greeted with plateaus, valleys, floating islands of the same substance that he'd seen around the portal- blood stone. In the distance, there was a group of bipedal figures wandering aimlessly. He concluded that the dimension, while intense on his body, was visually quite boring. There wasn't any reason why his progress should have been destroyed multiple times… unless the miasma was a front.

As he took a step forward, he felt a different texture beneath his shoes. It wasn't bloodstone. It was… grass? Maybe moss, all glowing and blue. It was so different from everything else around it. The blue would certainly be noticed for miles in a place like this; so where was it coming from?

He took a couple more steps, watching the grass appear below his feet each time he made contact. It was so mesmerizing that he didn't notice the portal ahead of him. Overworld air filled his lungs- he automatically sucked in deep breaths to replace the stiff air of fire and blood stone. He just as quickly processed that he was not where he was trying to be. A feeling of dread welled up in him. He cautiously turned his head towards it and reached for the dagger in his back pocket.

His portal was behind him. And with his portal, a cloaked man. It was hard to make out through the fog, but their cloak flowed over their form, making them look large and imposing. They had their arms outstretched towards the portal. With a concentrated stare, they were making it disappear.

Steve stared at them, frightened and bewildered.

Once the portal was gone, they finally looked over at Steve. Their facewascontorted with disdain, and eyes glowing white. They were wide too, that sort of frustrated stare that told him he'd be in danger if he kept persisting. And yet…

Before he could even think to start towards it, the being disappeared in a puff of smoke. There was no trace of them besides their footprints.

“Wha- Hey!” He ran to the portal frame, and struggled to light it with sweaty hands. He lit it though, and ran right through, his own burning curiosity motivating him more than any regards for safety. He jumped through. In the wave of nausea, he caught his foot, tripping and falling right into the figure's trap; a two block deep hole. He hit the ground hard enough to feel it in his bones, and grasped at the netherrack to climb his way out. His position guided him to look up, and he noticed the same figure glaring down at him. They were not happy.

His eyes went wide and he pressed his back against the fleshy netherrack.

“Who are you??”
They glared at them in silence as he glided down towards him. As he moved, he outstretched a hand. Some sparkling, teal energy flared up in it. Steve could now recognize that he might have just gone too far.
“I'll go away, just let me get out of this hole, dude!” His voice was shrill with fear.
He glimpsed a smirk on the man's… being's face. But then it changed. The man had a moment of hesitation, staring down at Steve's frightened visage. His eyes, once on Steve's, trailed to his own hand. Something was very wrong.

He jerked his hand away from Steve, and floated away until his powers failed him and he fell to the ground. His cloak, the flowing, silky thing it was, faded into nothingness. It, and his other darkened clothing, replaced by a plain, teal t-shirt and dark blue pants. With this change in attire, Steve could see black veins underneath his skin. They glowed and pulsed as if they were struggling to retain their magic. The man had magic coursing through his veins. He noticed it too, and was quick to hide his arms from the stranger.

He hissed, snapping his head towards Steve.
“What, what the… I-I didn't do anything! I swear!”

His focus was on the dagger he was using to climb and make a getaway. As he got his torso over the trap, he jumped to his feet and reached out to grab him. Steve rolled away from him and got to his feet before he could reach him. Steve pointed the dagger at him. He wasn't there.

Steve scanned in front of himself, uncertain of his location, until he felt his heat at his back. Before he could turn around, he grabbed his right arm. Steve was quick to switch the blade to his other hand and attempted to stab him. He took Steve's wrist with his left. Steve strained and struggled, kicking his leg back to hit his knee, but he was gone again.

He was in front of him now, and Steve could see a dangerous look in his white eyes. He was very intentional with his glare. He grabbed Steve by his collar and lifted him up.

“Hear me loud and clear, human. Go. Away.”

That was the first time Steve heard his voice, and most likely the last as was thrown into the portal. He landed on the ground, back in the overworld. He marched through after him, arms out at his sides and palms open. He clenched them into fists and the portal shattered. The veins in his arms pulsed with a white glow. His eyes mirrored the effect.

“Stay AWAY.” His voice boomed like thunder whipping through the sky.

After his warning, he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Steve was left alone, and bewildered, on the cold dirt. There was no greater motivation to stay away than a threat on his life, so he decided to heed his advice and finally leave the portal alone.

Home (ch 1, pt 3)

It had been decades since someone tried to enter a portal. It was troublesome for him that the remnants of his banishment still remained in some parts of the world, but it wasn't so hard to ward people off. He just made himself big and scary, threatened a few lives without seriously injuring anyone, and he'd be left alone. And that was routine. It was a little fun scaring them, really. It was the only real entertainment he got besides watching Nether mobs fight each other.

Decades were a while ago. This new human was different. He had done something to him and his domain. He knew what this place was supposed to feel like. He came to know this place like the back of his hands; any changes in the temperature, and the scalding winds from the lava seas below mixing with the ambient air above creating a sort of weather system- he knew it all. The air was cooler than it was meant to be, and all seemed to be brighter. It was like it was making itself more suitable to human invaders…

When he tried to teleport back to his home, he felt a barrier, like the world itself was fighting him and putting him into his place. His eyes grew wide with a mix of fear and frustration as he tried a couple more times. He had become the master of this domain, how dare it defy him?! His frustration became anger, anger that simmered as he, seeing no other choice, resolved to walk.

With every step he took, the terrain below him grew strange and warped. Some parts remained the familiar Netherrack, but there was also the blue grass, and a crimson-colored version of that grass. Finally, there were also basalt spikes which he had to carefully traverse, lest he be impaled.

Another thing he noticed was that, every sixteen blocks, the air seemed to grow a little more unstable. It wasn't noticeable the first hundred blocks, but after a while it grew to bother him. It was strange and crunchy, like the air on a frigid winter night which was certainly unusual in a place of hellfire. After a sharp turn around a steep incline, he saw something awful.

A wall of netherrack.

The human making an entrance into the world corrupted it. Completely. His castle would be just about a hundred blocks forward but, by this wall, at least the grand stairwell up to the castle would be broken. This prediction was true. The once beautiful netherrack brick staircase, handmade by Herobrine himself over the hundreds of years of his banishment; it was covered in this fresh new nether.

Once he finally dug past the netherrack wall, there was nothing. Well, not exactly. The beautiful netherrack castle was nowhere to be seen, but what was in its place was more fucked up than the wall.

The terrain was completely corrupted.

There were parts that were somehow floating in the air- other parts of the world were completely gone, leading down into an infinite, glowing void. That crunchy air was strongest here- it made his vision blurry, and his peripherals grew dark in a vignette. The world was fighting against its own existence, trying and failing to pave itself anew. Herobrine's presence was preventing a clean conversion. And that terrified him.

Steve, whoever that man was, changed his world for good. The hundreds of years he spent on his beautiful castle, forging every brick and laying it to perfection- it was gone. Everything he had collected, studied for, every hall and turn he came to know intimately… Herobrine felt grief and hatred filling his lungs. He let out a scream of frustration, and collapsed to the broken ground, digging his nails into the netherrack.

Steve's face filled his mind and he grit his teeth. His eyes grew bright like flames- burning and threatening to swallow the world in their heat.

“STUPID FUCKING HUM-” he began, then he felt his fingers brushing up against something coarse and rough- brick-like. One of his bricks. He slowly turned his teary eyes towards the object, noting that it was his own work. So where was his castle?

He picked up the brick, wiped his eyes, and scanned the area for anything of the like. There were remnants of his castle. Its magnificence was certainly gone, but its remnants remained. Desperately, he started to scout the area. The more he looked, the more of his masonry turned up. He got close to the strange glow of the void as he continued to look, and finally came across a section of a corridor that was deep underneath.

Maybe his research room was safe, he hoped. He closed his eyes to recite his mental map of the place. Stairs lead up to a lobby. The lobby was about twenty width and twelve length. To the front was a long corridor leading to overworld portals. The left was storage, forge and armory, and right would be where he had a bedroom (though, now he questioned why he had it in the first place if he rarely used it), and after the bedroom was his research, hidden deep underground. He flew about and backtracked to the lobby, and from there he followed his mental map.

He found that his lab was somewhat intact. Beyond the small arch, the quartz room was split in half. His most important work was gone now, the cure, but he still had the materials he needed. At this point, he was glad with what he could get. Someday he'd get the damned recipe to work.

After packing his materials into his inventory, he set off towards the storage. He found that it was also demolished, save for a couple of chests and some things on his racks. He picked up a worn cloak and a scythe. He'd have to set out for a new location in the overworld after finding out where Steve lived. At least he would have if he hadn't felt an even stranger energy coming from the direction of the portals.

He floated in the direction. There was something new that came from the corruption. A shrine, or summoning ring of some sort. There was a small pool of lava in the center, and four quartz pillars of lava with wither skeleton skulls on top of each of them. Eight blocks of netherrack were on fire, and finally, there was soul sand. Strange particles that hovered above the lava, though they seemed to be docile.

He approached the summoning ring carefully. When he was about thirty blocks away from it, he felt a sharp headache. A strange whispering invaded his ears. It wasn't coherent, but it wasn't positive either. These voices were excited, in a bad way. He saw the light in his veins flicker when he approached 20 blocks, and the whispers became a little more coherent.

‘He will return.'

‘This world will be saved.'

‘We will be cleansed of sin.'

‘Praise him!'

‘Praise him!'

‘Praise him!'

‘The Wither!'

“The Wither…” Herobrine hissed. He grit his teeth and tried to get closer (in an attempt to knock down the shrine), only to feel the headache and whispering get stronger. He tripped and fell. He could almost feel the eyes of the voices on him as they spoke.

‘Oh? Who is this?'

‘I believe his name is ‘Herobrine'.'

‘Yes, yes, and he is quite the foolish one.'

‘What is it you mean?'

‘Our Lord does not grant good things to those who act with greed.'

‘Nor wrath. I believe it was wrath that drove him to it?'

‘Yes. The foolish, mad one named Herobrine attempted to inject himself with our lord's power, only to be poisoned!'

A low growl pushed its way up his throat. The voices continued to taunt him.

‘Oh! He will work to cleanse the likes of you too, fool!'

‘He will cleanse everyone in hi-.'

Herobrine teleported away before it could finish speaking. He was more bewildered than upset now. Something needed to be done about this shrine. He couldn't get to it, but perhaps the human would be impervious to its effects. Plus he could just throw him into the void afterward.

His target?

He teleported into the overworld, near a village. On the outskirts of the village he saw a small cabin. And on that cabin's porch, he noticed a lonely man rocking in his rocking chair, watching the setting sun. Yes. He would be his target.

The Man with White Eyes? (ch 1, pt 4)

“Do you know anything about a man with white eyes?”

Steve promised he would help a neighbor, by the name of Mark, organize his barn a bit. Specifically his crates, which were all over the place.

Mark put down his crate with a grunt and looked over at Steve. “Ah heard uh a man… long time ago… name starts with an H. That's bout' all ahknow. Ask the librarian?”

“I've been in the library a couple of times… don't think I've seen anything of that sort.” Steve huffed as he lifted another box.

“You'd be surprised what ya findin there. I went there with ma'daughter one day and found a book about there being another world. And I thought, ‘in the sky?' Apparently it's a world underneathus, with many pig mansand giant headed ghouls. It sounded fake to me but what do I know?” Mark laughed.

That piqued Steve's interest. “Oh? What was it called?”

“Um… the… whatsit… Nethar? Nether? Might be it.”

“What'd the cover look like?”

“It was all spooky and dark and stuff… lots of red.”

“Hmmm…” Steve was deep in thought as he stacked up another crate. Was that the place he was in?

“Hm? What's on your mind, fella?” Mark inquired.

Steve let out a sigh and gave an awkward grin. “Oh, it's nothing. Just somewhere I thought I might have seen in a dream.”
“Really? That's mighty strange… sure it wadn'ta nightmare?”

Steve raised his eyebrows a little. “It could have been.” Maybe that whole experience was just a weird dream. Or a nightmare. As much as he wanted to convince himself that, the bruising on his wrist was more than enough proof that something happened. “I think I'll go check out the library to see if I can find anything on a guy with white eyes after this.”

“Alright. Wish ya luck on that, laddie.”

After thirty more minutes of helping Mark with the boxes (and a healthy payment), Steve set off to the library. He had an hour before his next work, and he'd get his studying started while he could.

The Cobblebrook library was a quaint little place- given that it was the biggest library in town (the first one burned down and they salvaged what they could), it had a sizable amount of information for him. Steve entered the glass double doors and made his way to the front desk. “Do you have any information on a man with white eyes?”

The lady behind the desk, Alex, answered in a jovial tone. “A man with white eyes? Let me see…”
She stood and started, facing towards the fiction section. Her green eyes widened with realization. “Like… Herobrine?”

“Is that his name?”

Steve had never seen someone walk so fast. He tried his best to follow her pace towards the history section as she sorted through some titles. “Oh… oh my. There aren't a lot of books here but… I've readabout him before…”

“What do you know about him?”

“Well, uh, a good hundred years ago he committed a massacre in Opal, y'know, the city.”

“Oh deer. For real? In real life?” Steve went a little pale.

“Y-yes. 31 people were killed, and 152 injured when he, um, exploded. Into a fireball. Like the explosion of a hundred creepers at once.”

“I always thought that was a myth… that what actually happened was a group of pillagers.”

“Not according to an account in the book ‘Addark's Greatest Mysteries.' I don't remember who the account was by and I know… the title doesn't sound all that trustworthy but…”

Steve wouldn't trust it if he hadn't seen the man himself. “I'm still interested. Do you have that book?”

“Yeah… if you want to look at it.”

She went to the biography section of the non-fiction area, eventually locating the book. The cover was sort of falling apart- it was a map that was glued onto the cover of a journal, with the words ‘Addark's Greatest Mysteries' in ink. Addark wasn't very good at graphic design, were they?

He opened up to the table of contents and took note. “The Ender Dragon, the Sea Monster… L-lick?” Steve stifled a laugh. Alex just shrugged.

Steve turned back to the table and his eyes widened at one of the entries. “Steve???”

“What?” Alex looked over his shoulder and her eyebrows raised with interest.

Steve flipped to the content with his name in it to find someone that looked very scarily like himself with Herobrine's clothing on. Oddly, there wasn't much to this entry besides a couple of photos, taken in times throughout history. None of these people were related, but the moment one of these people died, another person that looked and acted the near exact same as the older one would be born. Like cosmic historical twins.

“Ummm… okay…” Steve, thoroughly weirded out, flipped back to the first page. He tracked to the page where the information on Herobrine began.

Herobrine, formerly known as Holden Booker, is an interdimensional entity known to sometimes appear in the event that someone attempts to make a portal to the Nether. I will notbe detailing how to make that portal here. If one does make a portal and attempts to enter, he will likely appear and kick you, and your party, out within five minutes or so. That is if he hasn't already successfully thwarted the portal's structure.

‘Alright. That sounds about right. That's legit,' Steve thought.

“Is that what you were looking for?” Alex asked, noting his concentrated stare. Steve grinned and nodded.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

Steve checked the time on a nearby clock. He had about thirty minutes- he'd read for half that time and get going. Once he was settled comfortably, he started to read.

Details on his origins are quite vague, but he is said to come from Sividia, which was a part of the Galean Federation as of September 1830.

‘Oh my… Sividian…?.'

At some point during the first war, he injected himself with a mysterious fluid.

‘Ew.'

This substance caused him to go haywire. For a couple of days, he lit the South Vitaran trenches, Sividia's enemy, up in hell. Reports of his anguished screams are detailed in this snippet.

Steve checked out the snippet; it was an incomprehensible script.

He was locked away in a Vitaran prison for about a month until he escaped and created more terror for a couple of days- then he'd crash again. This repeated over and over again. It took a couple of months before his lab was discovered, where a portal was located. There were notes on the portal's creation, what a ‘little birdy' told him. What was inside the portal was The Nether, as was written on those notes. The Nether was a hellish place of red, squishy stone and awful, flying, crying heads. Holden had an independent lab where he was creating ‘Superhuman Potions' to aid him, and his comrades in the war. It did not go as planned.

With this knowledge of the Nether and the Nether portal, many more portals were created. There was a big boom in exploration , until a Galean leader, Saval, suggested that Holden be locked away there. This suggestion was approved, and a prison was made for him there. He only appears here every once and a while, and is generally said to be docile.

Steve looked up at the clock again and noticed that it was time for him to go. He walked up to the front desk, checked out the book, and carried it with him to his next job. There was some information in this book that would certainly come to be useful.

His next job was setting up target practice dummies for an archery range. It wasn't very hard to do, and it gave him ample time to dwell on Herobrine and if those tales were really true. They sounded pretty genuine. As he set up the posts, he wondered if he'd ever see him again. It was good if he didn't, of course, but he could never be sure.

He also thought some about the archery range in general. It reminded him of his time in guard training. He remembered helping to build the wall around their village. Laying those bricks down in promise of a brighter future… he'd say things were indeed brighter. They were generally friendly with the neighboring villages and towns.

Steve worked for about two hours- he helped repaint some of the fencing around the archery range, and then went out to buy some more paint because they ran out, and then helped with that. He was surely tired after it all, and enjoyed great, complimentary apple juice, along with his payment.

He went back home afterwards to have lunch, and then left once more to go back to the library. He had some questions about Herobrine, and surely Alex would know. The library was closed during Alex's lunch break, so Steve sat on the stairwell and continued to read about him.

The massacre of Opal: In 1860, Too many people were rediscovering how to get into the Nether, and, presumably, this roused Herobrine once more. He entered through one of the nearest portals to him, into the town of Opal, and began destroying things with a long scythe. When confronted by authority, he sliced off Officer Terrance Greene's head. Officer JonnWallay managed to slice him across his eye, but he was also quickly decapitated. In Herobrine's fury, he did something never seen before; he exploded. He had the force of a hundred creepers, blasting a huge crater into South Ruby street. The force collapsed buildings and destroyed homes, killing 25 and injuring an estimated 150.

There were some images of the aftermath.

‘So that did happen… ouch.'

Steve decided he'd had enough about Herobrine, and looked at some other anomalies. Besides the things he'd seen; Entity 303, Null and Mothman were individuals that were identified. There were also locations, like the Nether Fortresses, observed to not be built by Herobrine himself- it was much more of an ancient thing. And deep underground, in their world, there were rumored ‘End Portals', leading to a dimension called the End. Supposedly.

Alex was back by the time he was done reading.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“Mmm… hmm. Have you seen Herobrine before?”

“What?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah. I saw- I think it was him- I believe.”

Alex gave him a weird look. “Is this why you're so suddenly interested, hm?”

Steve sighed. “Yeah. I found a portal half buried in the ground and spent an unbelievable amount of time unearthing it- i've been out of the village a lot lately because of it- but yeah… I chased him around a bit and he put me in a hole, we fought but… I'm alive. Miraculously, after all that i've read.”

“Yeah! That's quite miraculous. That could have ended terribly…?”

There was a hint in her voice that she didn't quite believe him, so he showed her where Herobrine had grabbed his arms.

“Oh. I see.”

Steve nodded. Alex decided Steve really needed to take a break from mob fighting, he surely hurt his head in all of it.

He was back home after a couple of hours. He ate his dinner and sat out on his porch afterwards, taking in the cooling air and rocking in his chair. It was peaceful. He felt he could fall asleep right there. Eventually, he stopped rocking and just leaned back, taking in the chirping cicadas and the rustling leaves… and footsteps?

His blue eyes turned in the direction and he picked up his sword from beside him. “Hello? Someone there?”

The walking stopped.

As soon as it stopped, he witnessed its culprit. Herobrine stood before him in a ragged cloak, brandishing a scythe.

The color drained from Steve's face and he whipped his sword towards Herobrine, who blocked the attack with his own weapon. They clashed loudly.

“Herobrine?!”

“...Where did you learn my name?” There was great annoyance in his voice as he tilted his head. He bore his eyes into Steve's. “You're coming with me.”

The Nether (ch 2, pt 1) ( ! graphic depictions of violence)

Steve coughed as his lungs fought the nether air.

“I thought- you didn't want-me in here!” He fought to be released from Herobrine's grasp.

“I need something from you,” Herobrine said simply. He released him. Steve didn't have anywhere to go without materials, and he was at a disadvantage in a place like this. Steve sucked in some deep breaths and tried to adjust to the Nether.

“Follow me. It will not benefit you to disobey me.”

Steve was taken aback by the formality of his speech, but he didn't trust Herobrine any more.

“Why should I do-”

Herobrine turned to him with foreboding and threatening eyes. Steve just narrowed his eyes on him.

“Why?”

Herobrine groaned, throwing his head back and burying his face in his hands. Nothing else would be able to do what he needed to though, with efficiency anyways.

Steve was glad to annoy him. Whatever Herobrine wanted, he needed Steve alive for it. So he'd taunt him. He brandished a smirk and held his chin in his hands. “Am I making a fuss~?” He gave a fake pout for extra effect.

Herobrine scoffed and rolled his eyes. Without pupils, it was hard to tell.

“You want to know why I brought you here? Your existence in this world changed it. In the place of what used to be my castle is now a summoning ring of sorts. I want you to destroy it.”

“Oh? Why can't you do it yourself? Wait, you have a castle??”

“Had a castle. And no, I cannot. My body will not allow me to get close to it.”

“Hmm… and what if the same thing happens to me?”

Herobrine stared at him in silence. Steve groaned.

“Fine. I guess it would be interesting… Show me this great sum-.”

Herobrine had begun walking. Steve followed begrudgingly, observing his peripherals for any means of escape. The wall of netherrackcaught his attention.

“What's that about?”

“Corruption.”

“Yeah? Care to elaborate?”

Herobrine did not.

Steve watched in awe as they passed through the netherrack wall and was even more tripped out by the glitchy terrain. He had to pause and take it all in.

“Woah…”

Herobrine pointed out the summoning ring, which hadn't changed much.

“I see,” said Steve, thoroughly intrigued.

They both approached the ring, Herobrine stopping about thirty blocks away. Steve stopped as well.

“I hear something… strange.”

“Whispering?”

“I think so…”

Steve looked back to make sure Herobrine wasn't going to do anything while he was turned away. Herobrine had his scythe away and had no indication that he would attack, so, Steve, minding any traps, traversed carefully. The whispering grew to voices.

‘Who is it that approaches?'

‘He is unfamiliar.'

‘He looks like Herobrine.'

‘He is not Herobrine. His spirit is strong… but he is foolish and reckless.'

Steve scoffed.

‘He could be like Herobrine if there were war. But worry not, the Wither will be here soon.'

“What??”

‘The Wither will cleanse you.'

‘Yes, the Wither will cleanse all.'

“The Wither? I saw that name in the book I read… What do you know about the Wither?”

“Don't indulge them. Destroy the pillars,” Herobrine called. Steve didn't listen.

‘I hear Herobrine's voice.'

‘Yes. He must be here. But this is not him, he is too close.'

‘Human, do you know about Herobrine?'

‘Do you know what he has done?'

“No… what do you know?” Steve inquired softly. Herobrine tried to approach and pull him away, to no avail. He could not approach.

“HUMAN!”

‘Touch the pillars and you shall know everything you wish to know…'

“Okay…”

The moment Steve laid his hand on the pillar, he felt a numbing feeling roll through his head. Visions started to fill his mind. The first vision was the moment he injected himself. He was in a lab of sorts, leaning against a pillar… Steve could feel his pain in his bones. There was a strange, dark liquid pouring out of Herobrine's-Holden's-eyes and ears and mouth. Consistently. Images of Holden's enemy filled his mind, and vague visions of his family were quick to evade him.

Afterwards, he was shown what was presumably him tearing into Vitaran forces. He ripped them limb from limb with his own hands. Blood splattered over the banks and bodies lay there like sacks of anguished potatoes. He knew no mercy. He was impervious to arrows and blades. But he was also in terrible pain- his body shook as he worked through them, and he let out hellish screams at any contact to his skin.

Finally, there was a vision in the Nether. A small group of travelers came through a portal; Herobrine sensed it and teleported to them. These humans brandished weapons- weapons they'd find would be ineffective. They came to ‘slay the beast', they explained as they pointed swords at him. Herobrine was having none of it. On his face grew a terrible grin. Then he tore into them. Gore littered the red Nether floor and the three travelers quickly became unrecognizable. Steve had never seen so much blood, even in his work as a warrior. The last thing he saw was Herobrine staring down at his bloodstained hands.

When the visions ended, Steve had a horrified expression plastered on his face. Herobrine was brutal. He could kill him easily. He couldn't be here any longer- he opted to run.

Running (ch 2, part 2)

Steve made twists and turns to try and get away from Herobrine. Herobrine was at an advantage though, with his flight and resistance to the Nether's heat. Steve had to get creative. He ran towards a wall and then made a sharp turn, causing Herobrine to comically collide into a wall. He continued to run, trying to best him any way he could.

Steve bound over a short ledge and landed on something soft, resembling a giant red mushroom. Alright. This was good. He continued to run, bounding from mushroom to mushroom as Herobrine chased after him. Herobrine nearly did swoop him up, but he jumped down. But he had more than one issue on his hands. There were giant hog-looking creatures. All in range started towards him angry. He seemed to have aggroed them; he was starting to tire out as well. He kept going.

He managed to evade the giant pigs, and found himself at another ledge at the end of the mushrooms. There was a small clearing here, but there was a steep decline not so far ahead. He was trapped. As he thought, he heard a shriek in the distance. Then he felt heat and an explosion hit him on his right. He turned and rolled away from it, and hit the ground. His ears rang. The creature started up another attack, but Steve didn't feel a fireball hit him this time. He felt a presence above him, and when he looked up, it was a… bipedal pig?

The pig held a golden sword in its hands. The blade was charred. Whatever had been firing at him was surely extinguished. Itsonly remnants were the ash and burning debris, dusted over his side.

The Piglin looked down at him and observed his features.

“Porky thinks you look a lot like Herobrine but you are not him. Your eyes are different and you don't wear a cloak so who?”

“Huh??”

“Porky wonders if you are a friend?”

“What? Uh…”

“Who are you?”

Steve noticed that there were a couple more pigmen surrounding them. There was also another presence beside him.

“That is a good question,” Herobrine said. Steve groaned, and Herobrine raised an eyebrow.

“Can you stand?”

Steve huffed, then got to his feet slowly. He dusted himself off. Herobrine and Porky watched in intrigue.

“What's your name, human?” Herobrine asked, gently.

“Steve…?”

Herobrine blinked and nodded slowly. “So then, Steve, what did you see?”

Steve cringed at him. Herobrine returned a neutral expression.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already. I'm not going to hurt you.”

He clipped his scythe to his side and opened his arms, making himself vulnerable.

“Why…”

“What?” Herobrine brought his arms to his side again.

Steve turned to him. “...How many people have you killed? Why haven't you killed me?”

Herobrine sighed and shook his head. “I did foolish things. There was war; and war is emotion. My, myhead was filled with nothing but pain.” Herobrine's voice strained at the end. He looked directly at Steve. “But I'm controlling it now. Thousands of years in solitude can change a being.”

Steve had a conflicted look in his eyes. He looked directly into Herobrine's. Herobrine kept that neutral expression for a moment, then raised his eyebrows in realization. “I have something of yours.”

He held his arms in a cradle, and in them appeared none other than Timmy. The chicken settled into his arms and glared at the gawking human. His eyes widened. “...How did you…”

“A little birdy told me that you're not a very good pet owner,” Herobrine said, with the slightest hint of a grin. Steve sighed and shook his head. A great weight had been lifted off of his chest, but another of guilt (and great confusion) had settled in.

‘Herobrine is…'

“As per your question, I've been keeping them in my ‘inventory'. They sure do eat a lot.” Herobrine gave a bit of a laugh. “I do not blame them.”

Steve watched in stunned silence. His mouth was slightly agape.

“But how did y-”

“Porky thinks that he does not need to help Master any more?” Porky blurted.

Herobrine turned his attention to them “No. You can leave. Thank you.”

He watched them, and their companions, in great interest. They looked so very different now. Much healthier. They sounded much healthier. Where there used to be green flesh and exposed skeleton, it was now all cleaned up. Perhaps the human had changed some parts of his world for good.

His attention was back on Steve. He continued to ignore his question and asked one of his own. “Do you wish to help me now?”

Steve returned a slow blink. “I-I guess I have no choice.”

“Don't listen to what they're telling you. Just destroy the pillars, and I will return you home.”

Herobrine looked down at Timmy. “You won't have to be in here for much longer,” he said, and absorbed him back into his inventory.

When they returned to the shrine, Herobrine unclipped his scythe from his side and handed it over.

The blade was unlike anything Steve had ever seen before. It was dark and sharp like obsidian, but it was not obsidian. It was more like a metal, like iron. It was tenfold stronger than iron. Something like that was invaluable.

‘I wonder what this is. I could look it up at the library.'

Steve gave a short glance at the demon, who was looking back at him expectantly. Without further ado, he looked away and walked.

‘The human returns.'

‘And alive, it seems.'

‘Do you seek protection from the demon? Come, join-'

Steve raised the scythe and swung the blade at one of the pillars. It collapsed, and the voices wailed in horror. Oh, the betrayal!

‘NOOO!'

‘HUMAN, DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!?'

‘TO INCUR THE WRATH OF OUR LORD!?'

While they cried, Steve brought down another pillar. And while he did that, Herobrine could feel the shrine's anger digging into his veins, making his head swim. He staggered back. He then gasped in horror and rushed forward.

Steve turned around to look at him, and just in time. A lumbering giant of a skeleton began to swing at him. The reinforced snath met iron, and they bounced off of eachother with a clang. Steve jumped to the side and rolled away from the shrine, feeling another skeleton at his back.

The wrath had manifested as two giant coal black skeletons. They moved harshly and with the intent to kill. One of them grabbed his foot, and another lunged with its sword. Before it could strike, it was yanked to the ground, picked up, spun around, and flung into the fiery abyss beyond. White eyes briefly met Steve's blue as he blocked a swing. He kicked the skeleton back. Herobrine wrenched the blade from Steve's hand to bat off its head with the hilt of his blade.

Steve was back to his feet by then. He and Herobrine jumped back as the headless skeleton swung wildly. Then Steve saw how he really used that weapon. All in a second, Herobrine was on the opposite side of it, plunging his blade through the carbonated bone like butter. It crumbled. Steve grabbed its sword and readied himself for another attack.

“Two more to go,” he panted to Herobrine, who was staring intensely at the partly fallen shrine.

“Keep your guard up,” Herobrine replied. Steve started towards the pillars again, and Herobrine hung back.

‘THERE IS A STORM COMING FOR YOU, HUMAN.'

‘YOU ARE EVEN MORE A FOOL THAN HEROBRINE.'

‘YOU ARE INTRODUCING YOURSELF TO YOUR HARSH DEMISE!'

Steve did not listen. He took down the last two pillars in one large swing, and backed away as they manifested. They lunged at him, he ducked and swept one of their feet. That knocked one of them back, but they were fast. The second kept forward and swung into his chest. It sliced into his chest and shoulder. He hissed and staggered back. Herobrine ran up beside him and blocked the next attack, then he cut them down. Steve ran up next to him, booted their heads off, and wrenched their sword hands off of their skeletal bodies. Anything that moved was launched into the abyss. It then came to both of their attention that the fire at the center of the shrine was blue.

‘Our Lord's return is inevitable… it is inevitable… it is inevitable.'

The fire itself seemed to speak as it died out, becoming ash. Herobrine laid his cloak over the flame to speed the process. When he looked back, he saw Steve sitting on the charred netherrack, attempting to bring in air he wasn't getting. He clutched his wound to slow the blood loss. Herobrine sucked his cheek and walked to him.

“Let's get you home.”

He took Steve's hand, wrapped it around his shoulder, held his waist, pulled him up, and started towards the portal.

Breathe (Ch.2 pt 3) (fluf)

Air. Fresh and crisp, potent and breathable. Addictive. Damn did it feel good to breathe. It was as good as water, which he heard faintly dripping in his half conscious state. He imagined he was by a waterfall, with the sounds of the natural world all around him. Birds and elk and a small frog, ribbiting away in his ear. No, that wasn't ribbiting. That was walking. And that was the creak of a floorboard. He wasn't by a waterfall, so where was the water coming from?

‘Come on Steve, open your eyes…'

The voice was shallow and hard to determine, like looking through fog.

He felt a presence, the shadow of a large spruce. This presence wasn't human after all. But it was much too small to be a tree. What was too small to be a tree but too aberrant to be human? There were too many possibilities. Whatever it was needed to stop bothering him.

“Go away…”

He heard a chuckle then. It was an amused human chuckle. Not a zombie or a skeleton or a tree. He was too curious. It felt a great effort to open his eyes, an effort he soon came to regret. His eyes met white ones. His face contorted to horror. Everything that occurred flooded back to him. His breath sped, and he struggled to stand. He felt a hand placed on his chest.

“Relax.” Herobrine's voice was surprisingly calm. But he was still in the presence of a demon. Albeit a demon who saved his life, though he put him in that danger in the first place. Even though he put himself in danger first… whatever. It was still off.

“...So it wasn't… it wasn't just a dream…” Steve breathed. He felt Herobrine move away, which felt unusually annoying, especially when Herobrine continued not to answer his question- but it gave him the time to realize his surroundings. Herobrine brought him to his living room couch, in his home. Herobrine was inhis home.

“I made a potion of healing. It should help heal your laceration and your breathing. I wanted to make sure you drank it before I left,” he said, returning with said item. The liquid sparkled and gently glowed a pink light. He put the liquid down on the table nearby and helped Steve sit up. The human coughed pitifully.

“This is why I wanted you, and everyone, out of the Nether,” Herobrine scolded as he held the uncapped potion out to him. Steve took a hesitant sip. Almost instantly, as he felt it slip down his throat, he felt some of the pain and soreness go dull. He drank more, and before he knew it, the potion was gone. He felt rejuvenated. Steve set the bottle aside. He realized that Herobrine had bandaged him up as well, to stop the bleeding. At this realization, he felt some feeling churning in his chest. It was probably the potion. He hoped it was the potion.

Herobrine, after confirming that Steve was okay, stood up and looked out of a nearby window. “I should be going.”

Some thought was creeping in the back of Steve's mind. He wasn't sure what to think of it, and it had certainly meant to stay behind his lips. He hesitated before letting it slip.

“..Mmm… don't.”

“...Pardon?”

“I mean… I want to help you,” Steve started, still sounding unsure. He looked into the demon's eyes. "The Wither. It said there was a storm coming? And… I've already introduced myself to my demise, right? By destroying the pillars you wanted me to destroy?”

Herobrine gave an amused chortle at first, and then, seeing the seriousness on Steve's face, he frowned. There was no way he could have gotten those pillars down without Steve, and there was no way Steve could have killed those skeletons without him. He needed to get some information too, so it would be good to have a human around who could be inconspicuous. Still though…

“The Wither is a conscious poison. You could be safe if you backed away and I left now.”

Steve, with an increasingly intense gaze, got to his feet and shook his head at him. “It's going to come after me, right? I've already angered it. I've been introduced to my demise… so… what's the point of running?"

He realized he struck a nerve when he saw Herobrine tense up, glare, then look away. Herobrine took a step back. “...I'm going to go change my clothes,” Steve said, quietly. He turned away to go do that and left Herobrine on his own.

Herobrine watched him walk further into the house. Then he walked opposite of him, into the kitchen. He noticed earlier that Steve did not have a sink. Instead, there was a large bucket in the corner of the room. He took it with him as he went out to the porch. He opened the door and…

The day was beautiful. Conifers painted the horizon beautiful green hues, mixing well into the brown of the forest floor. The sky was a vibrant blue, dotted occasionally with white cloud fluff. A gentle breeze, smelling of wildlife, grazed over him. It felt new and fresh in his lungs. And the sun, oh the sun. It soaked through his clothes and skin, warming his muscles and bones. He felt as light as air for a moment in awe of the world's beauty. He took one long, deep breath and swallowed the emotion that was swelling up in his throat.

He walked down a short pathway to the side of the house, and eventually came across a well. He hummed a tune to himself as he collected the water. By the time he got back to the house (after checking by the chicken coop), Steve was in the kitchen. He had on an apron, and was mixing ingredients for oven firedpancakes. He propped the door open for Herobrine and to let some air in. Herobrine just stood in the middle of the doorway though, transfixed upon the scene.

Steve turned to him after about a minute. “Hello?”

“It feels like mint here,” Herobrine spoke, quietly.

Steve stopped stirring. “...What?”

“It's definitely green. It's not a dark green like pine… oak leaves, perhaps?”

“What are you talking about?”

Herobrine took in a breath. “It's really quite beautiful here. I would be ecstatic to wake up in a place like this every day,” he said, walking over to put the bucket down.

“Yes… it is very nice. I do love it here,” Steve gave a confused glance and then went back to stirring. Herobrine stood beside him and washed his hands before putting the dishware into the bucket. Steve pointed out where the soap was, then watched in awe as Herobrine heated the water with his hands.

“Hey… be careful with that,” he said, somewhat absentmindedly as he watched the soap bubble up. He didn't think too hard about why Herobrine was cleaning his dishes for him.

“Don't worry,” Herobrine assured him, focused intensely on the bucket himself. The dishware was squeaky clean when he was done. He dried them and put them away. Steve had put the batter into a pan by then. The first pancake was in the oven, and he was observing the demon.

“Hmm…”

“Hm?”

“I haven't had someone in my house in, well, a while,” he said, twirling his spatula in his hand. “No way would I have thought the next person would be Herobrine, in the flesh.”

“I'm not to be expected. That's a part of the charm,” he said. “May I put my cloak here?” he asked, walking towards the table and unbuttoning his cloak. Steve gave a confirmative nod, so Herobrine, after a moment of hesitation, put his cloak on the chair. Steve caught sight of his darkened veins as he returned. Not wanting to put the demon into a bad mood, he decided to keep making casual conversation.

“You're surprisingly eloquent for a demon,” Steve said as he flipped his pancake.

“Oh, really?” Herobrine asked, folding his arms. “Is that the propensity of obnoxious types?”

Steve made an ‘O' with his mouth. “How would I know someone would be inside the blood dimensionnobody's ever heard of?”

“I don't know. Maybe I kept it that way for a reason. Maybe you should learn to read ‘STOP' when it's carved into obsidian. Just a suggestion.”

Steve scoffed. “You're unsurprisingly awful for a demon.”

Herobrine gave a small grin and watched as Steve placed the pancake onto the plate he set out. Damn it smelled good. Dangerously good. He felt his mouth watering, which was something he could hide. However, he couldn't hide the loud and embarrassing rumble his stomach made. Steve wheezed at the sound and pushed the plate (along with some utensils) towards him. “Think you need that a little more than me. Here.”
He got out a bottle of honey from his icebox before Herobrine could take the plate. While he added more batter to the pan, Herobrine looked down at the treat, practically frozen. He wasn't expecting it. He didn't know what to do. After staring for about ten seconds, he looked at Steve.

“Uh… Steve?”

Steve looked up. His eyes met a flustered expression, one that caused his chest to churn again. Or maybe it was his stomach. His whole body felt like it was beginning to burn up, perhaps a side effect of the potion.

“Thank you.”

The pancakes melted in Herobrine's deprived mouth.

Who is the Wither? (Ch 2 pt 4)

He lay there, panting and gripping his sheets. A nightmare. He hadn't had one of those in ages. Something with mist for hands and a stranglehold on his neck. His breath slowed as he calmed down, but the tenseness of his body and the beads of sweat rolling down his face proved harder to shake. Damn, he regretted going into that portal. If only he listened. His eyes fixed upon the ceiling, he felt the mess he had made of the sheets with his terror-filled kicking. It was okay though. It wasn't real, for now.

He came to accept he probably wasn't going to sleep for the night, so he rolled out of his bed and went to his nightstand to light a lantern. The darkness felt dreary and ominous, like something would latch onto his legs and drag him into the floor. Maybe a skeleton would snipe him from the window.

Once his lantern was lit, he decided to head out to the main room. He wanted to distance himself from the bedroom. And this was an interesting endeavor, one that yielded unusual results. For where there would usually be silence, there was the sound of dripping liquid and walking and breathing.

Herobrine was making a lab of his kitchen, in the dead of night. Before him were glowing pinks and oranges and yellows (small boxes of light fueled by redstone?), but, most importantly, the glow of the demon's eyes as he turned to him. Steve couldn't determine if they were comforting or frightening.

“You're awake.”

“...Yeah…” Steve set his lantern down on the dining table and watched the chemical magic. “Do you sleep?”

Herobrine turned back towards his brewing. “No. I presume you had a rough time trying?”

“How did you know?” Steve's voice was thick with sarcasm and exhaustion. He gave a sigh. “Hard to sleep with nightmares of being strangled.”

Herobrine leaned into his potions a bit more, trying to avoid Steve's face. “Wouldn't I know.”

Steve was quiet for a moment after that, then filled in the silence by asking him what he was doing.

Herobrine sat up. “Healing potions are good to have- potions in general are good to have when dealing with the Wither.”

“I guess that makes sense…”

Then a crucial question came to mind. He leaned against the counter a bit. “Do you know what the Wither is?” Herobrine looked at him silently, then brought over the two chairs from the table so they could sit down.

"I have an experience with it… it's a rough story.” Herobrine stated, simply. Steve gave a tentative nod. “Well… I'm not going back to bed anytime soon.”

Herobrine sighed. “If you wish… sit back then. Take notes.”

Steve nodded and sat back. Herobrine began.

“War is all about having an advantage over your enemy. A hundred years ago- you know about the Sividian-Vitaran war, right?”

Steve nodded.

“Alright. Well, we- alchemists- worked on discovering new technology for an advantage over Vitara. And, just as you noticed, we saw that obsidian had an unexpected reaction to fire. Instead of melting, it glowed a purple flame. This wasn't a new observation, but it had to mean something.

Earlier in that year, some archeologists discovered ancient tablets at a buried village site, Sumta, ones that described a ring of ‘solid earth heat' lit with fire. It was only in this desperate time that we made that connection- the ‘solid earth heat' was obsidian. Me, and a group of five others worked on creating several rings of obsidian, each with increasingly larger size, but none of them seemed to work. We determined it was an impasse and planned to keep experimenting with stronger explosives, until Wellens discovered the portal's size minimum.

The portal lit. We were in. But there was no way we could have known what the dimension would hold. And neither did we think we'd get trapped there, that some rat bastard in our workspace was an impostor…”

Herobrine took a breath.

“We were stuck. Many lives were lost there. Yes, the Nether is a place of loss. It chokes the air out of your lungs. It is an uncaring place of death. The netherrack, the amalgamated blood and guts, built up in layers until it's unrecognizable- the sands of those long lost souls grabs at your feet, try to drag you in with them, and the damn wailing of ghastly… creatures.

There were only three of us when we came across the… well, how do I describe them… strongholds? They were large structures of Nether brick, high above the boiling magma seas below, clearly manmade, clearly constructed for fortification from something. In its abandoned and destroyed state, from what we could observe, we thought it would be fine to venture in. It had to have some supplies, we reasoned. But no… the only thing there for us was suffering.

It started with Jan. We decided to split up to cover ground on finding supplies (we were desperate), but, when we met up again, she spoke of seeing the dead arisen in the form of coal skeletons. We thought the lack of air and the horrors had gotten to her. With no luck in finding supplies, we decided to regain some energy by blocking off the walls and resting. And we did just that. Or we tried. After an indiscriminate amount of time, she woke us up. With her screaming. She went on about seeing a three headed skeleton god, with awful gnawing teeth and blood and guts, the blood and guts of her family and friends. We couldn't get her to calm down. She never got the chance to calm down. From her orifices poured a viscose and dark liquid. It filled her lungs and her arteries, turning them black.”

He held out his wrist to Steve. “Black like mine. S-she suffocated on the poison and died. And then she started decaying. Her flesh rotted from her bones and-”

Herobrine's voice grew shaky with horror, and so did his body. Steve looked at him with wide eyes, and then he furrowed his brow. "Hey… you don't have to keep going…"

Herobrine rubbed the emotion from his face and breathed. He looked back to his potions and blinked the tears from his eyes. He turned back to Steve.

"...I'd… like to get the story out," he responded, with unusual softness. And then he continued.

“-She got turned into a wither skeleton. Matt and I ran until we were at the end of the stronghold. Apparently something infiltrated it and destroyed the entrance a long time ago. We were trapped between the lava sea below and wither skeletons. Then it was me. Matt… he fell off the edge. And I don't… I don't remember what happened after that. Somehow the Wither got into my veins, and I, Herobrine, went on to kill.”

He looked down at his hands, radiating sorrow and regret.

Steve stared at him in shock. He'd seen fighting, he'd seen scars and battle, but he knew nothing and could hardly fathom what that must have been like.

Herobrine, no longer wanting Steve's eyes on him, got up and put his chair back. “That's the Wither. That's what I know about the Wither.”

“Herobrine…”

Herobrine turned his eyes to Steve, who also got up to put his chair back. Steve then walked up to him and outstretched his arms. In the darkness, Herobrine could see some kind of emotion on his face. He could sense that Steve was beckoning him to approach.

His white eyes went a little wide. He hesitated at first, but then he found himself leaning into the human. And the human took him into his arms. There, he received a warmth he hadn't felt in decades. He put his arms back around the human, and he held onto his shirt, and there, he let his tears flow. Herobrine leaned into him, absorbing a comfort he hadn't received in years.

They stayed there, in silence, for what felt like forever- exchanging much needed comfort. Eventually, Herobrine patted his back for him to let go, and he did. There was still the question as to what the Wither was, for that held the key to defeating it. It was good to know a little bit more about Herobrine though.

“Will you be staying up?” Herobrine asked, returning to his potions.

“Until my body gives out,” Steve shrugged. He went over to the couch and watched the glowing colors until he couldn't anymore. Occasionally, he asked questions about the healing potion, and Herobrine answered. And when he slept, Herobrine looked over and made sure he was sleeping soundly. He felt safe here, for once.

Ch 2 pt 4

Steve spent, in total, three days at home. In that time, he had another nightmare about dark, misty hands and shared another meal with Herobrine.

He learned that Herobrine was a very… interesting demon. Among other things, he witnessed him stand in the middle of the grassy hill nearby for about fifteen minutes, seemingly studying the sky. When prompted as to what he was observing, he responded: “If you were a cloud in the sky, what would you think of the you that is standing here? Would you be proud of yourself, Steve?”

When Steve responded with a bewildered noise, Herobrine gave a hint of a grin and teleported off. Steve concluded that Herobrine was messing with him when he reappeared later, hovering and hanging upside down in his kitchen window, asking him “So, what do you think?”

Back Home