Chapter Text
One tree down, many more to go. Tommy Whatever his brain was trying to make him remember burned. A terrible migraine spiked all around his skull. What was he doing again? Trees.
Henry --as he dubbed himself-- needed to punch down trees. Henry expertly put the five logs he had into a small crafting manual inventory. |20 wooden planks reappeared in his hand.| 10 of those planks turned into an actual crafting table, and 12 sticks. Those were safely tucked into his inventory, but holding one in both hands. It just felt right, natural even; and they could be used as a weapon for food. Henry started wandering.
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Hours had passed and Henry's feet hurt. A lot. Walking on the soft grass in the plains was comforting, but not against the hard ground below. He hadn't even found any useful! All this had done was get him far away from any wood source!
Oh! Over there to the right was the opening of a cave! A single bat on singed wings flew out as he entered. Placing down the crafting table --Henry would need that sooner or later-- crafted a wooden pickaxe, intending to use it to it's full durability. |8 planks and 7 sticks left.| And honestly that scared him, but he ventured further into the cave. Not without crafting a new stone pickaxe and sword first...
The sun set away from the entrance of the cave. From the left. North, South, whatever. He doesn’t understand directions and shit. Left and right is all Henry needs. Burrowing further into the cave after blocking the entrance. Just another instinct.
A green and black speckled creature faced away from him over in the darkness. It walked on four short legs. Like a cat. Heavy phantom weight appeared on his left arm when he lit another stick on fire. |6 sticks.| He wanted to hold a shield; he needed to hold one. The creature turned towards his direction, then he saw its face. And to be honest, it sent shivers down his spine and pure terror swept through him. So, the sharp stone sword raised defensively as he backed up. Only bad memories come from creepers those things. Don’t ask what things, he can’t remember any of them. They haven’t even happened yet. Soft and rough voices torches were all that comforted him in the relatively dark cave.
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Sleeping on cobblestone was not ideal for one. And for two, his torch light left with his dreams. The only non-fleeting pictures being browns, pinks and purples.
Humming a melody, Henry retraced his steps | as best as he could remember | back to the blocked off exit. A skeleton came out of nowhere while he was mining out. |The arrow it shot landing an inch from his face.| Turning around, Henry shot his shield into the granite, leaning against it. Bone's held together by ancient magics clinked together. |It was getting louder. closer.|
Peeking around the wood, a skeleton's face doesn't show emotion; they are still and unforgiving. Like a white smiling mask. Bow string pulled taut, he could make out the details in the flint of the arrowhead.
.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿
He could smell gunpowder clear as day. Flint and steel gripped tight in his own hands. He wasn't the one who told his legs to move.
“Do it t̶̢̧̛̥̥̬̦̗̖̥̹̟͙͉̼͛̍̆̓̐͆̎̓̈́̾̉͒́̓̔̀͂̐̓̒͋͂͗̓̕̕̚͜͜͝͠ͅ ̴͚̙͉̜̹̞͇̺͓̭̥̭͉͓̭͉͕͊̚̕o̵̢͎͙͉͓͒̓́̏̄̅͝͝m̷̨̛̱̞̜̦͉̟̠̳͙̾̈́̉̉̿͛̄̉͒̄̍̾̂͆̈̈́̃̕͜ͅ ̵͙̭̠̬͓̳̯̭̘̭͕͎̝͚̜͊̄̈̏̈́͌̆̇̒̈̊͋̑̉̇̈́̔̌̔̄̒̄̓̓̆̕͘̕͜͝ͅ ̸̨̨̲̻͇̬͉̖͎̗̥̼͎̤̘̠̻̘̻͖̂̆̐̓̓̌̽̓̄̈́͒͆ ̷̡̢̛͎̗̳͚̼̪̉̑͛͑̍̾̈́͒̀̈́͆͌̈́̓̋̌͋̐͛͘͘͜͝͝͝͝m̶̡͖̙̦̣͈̮̬̟̟̤̥̺͉͉͈̍̑̏̓̑͛̐͑̑̓̅͐̍̆͌̅̅͒̌̐̐̑̕̕͘̚̕ ̵̨̡̫̟͓̳̜̗̖̳̯͓̯̙̱͖̘͔͉͙̓̒͠ ̴̧̢͖͕̝̖̩̲̦̦̫̲̤̹͎̰̱̙̩̹͉̪̹̣̜͗̎͆̃̊̇͗̓̔͆̊̓̕͜y̵̛̤̭̮̙̲̣̽̿͂͗͐̕ !”
A soft voice commanded. It wasn’t soft in that moment, though. They were scared. Angry. Angry at an ally.
ț̵̢̨̥̝̄͐͂̚o̸̢̡̨̖͙̼͓͜͜͝ ̴̨̖̥̖̥͔̠̙͉͓͖̦̠̆̓͒̉͆̈́͂̈̿́̅̎̈́̄̽͜m̶̨̛͔̱̱̭̟̗̠̬͎͔͙̓̌̚ ̸̡̟͔͚͔̤̘̱͇̝̫̻͇̘̍̄̒̈́̍͆̈̂̒̄͠͝ ̷̹̳̟̣͖̠̩̱̪̗̘̘̍̔͛̇̆͊̓͑̎̀̐̌̓͌͂͝͝ͅ ̶̞̘̯̅̈́͊͒͌͋̏̕͝m̶̡̧̢̡̬͍̲̺̞͖̮̓̎͐̿̍͑̽̆̍̕͜͝ ̸̨̧̨̫̯̼̭̤͔͔͕̘̠͇̃̊̉̕͘ͅy̴̡̧̛͍̘͕̜̠̥̻̪̗̬̲̑̈́̒̊͋̎̃̅̕͠͠ͅ was stood on TNT. This is what the voice wanted. This is what the person wanted.
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Cat and Mellohi. Pride
“It was only about the discs!” Greed
Guitar hugged discs but it was still cold ; bucket hat escaped to freedom with pink crown. Envy
“Do you wanna be a hero Theseus? THEN DIE LIKE ONE! ” Wrath
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.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿.̵̘̤̰̍̿
Henry shot forward with a gasp. Such a weird dream he had. Legs dangling over the side of the white bed, he built a house in the village.
Reminiscing back to the time of his first night in the wild; he’d been so lucky to be alive. Rubbing his right arm, pain spiking through it every once in a while.
He waved to Jerry, a villager buying things anyone would sell. There were a lot of Jerry’s in this village. Others in the forest, but they mainly focused on their farms. Wheat, beetroot, carrots and potatoes. He preferred their potatoes and carrots.
Henry walked down the paved path. A parrot was on his shoulder. It’s name was Bird. He kept walking when the path ended. Today, he was finally going to go to the Nether.
Walking for days on end hurt. He walked through many variations of forests, and deserts. Anything of the sorts.
On the 4th day of walking he was in a grassy field. It was so bright. A black horse with a white stripe down it’s face stood grazing. Opening up his inventory |it became a second limb| Henry had brought all of his belongings with him just in case. A popping sound brought him back into reality. He was standing in front of a lava pool. Blistering heat. He built a quick but small cobblestone hut near the pool. Water poured over to regulate the heat and not make it unbearable.
Ruffling Bird’s feathers under its beak, he set the colorful winged creature oh how jealous inside. He’d only heard of legends of bastions until now. Henry knew it was where he needed to go. Other than finding a Nether Fortress which was still just as mythical. Few traveled across dimensions. But he would be fine. He’s got Bird!
Digging a small hole into the dirt, he poured his only water source into it, which he then used the empty bucket to scoop the lava up. What was he supposed to do again? Something started sizzling, and Tommy? Henry dropped the bucket into the lava pool. |He wasn’t getting that back.|
“These fucking insufferable headaches..” He groaned, holding the sides of his head as he backed up into the water pit he created. This day was just going just shittily. The now soaked boy heard chirps and feathers rustling in almost a panic as he sunk into a state of hysteria.
Why. Why did he need want to fight the Ender Dragon. He’s seen the pictures, the stories, the myths. |Oh god he was going insane| Wasn’t the first time this has happened. Henry, was his name Henry? Henry was someone he knew before. Henry wasn’t a human. The pain in his head increased tenfold. He screamed. He screamed out to whatever god was torturing him. He doesn’t have a name. They don’t fit his soul. They are not him. If it were even possible, the pain increased even more as did his cries for help. Then it ceased. He stopped screaming.
Passed out from shock? From sleep deprivation? From the pain of existing everywhere and nowhere? It doesn’t matter. The pain had stopped. The pain fucking stopped!