Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve locked the diamonds in the chest and slumped to the ground.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His hands laid on the floor, still trembling from the events in the mine. Eyes in a trance-like state noticed the room began to melt and warp. The ceiling slowly bulged down but made no sound of crackling wood. Colors started bleeding into one another, and Steve quickly shut his eyes.

It’s not darkness he sees. Rather, he’s underground, but the caves aren’t familiar. Stone colored like monster blood stretched unevenly on the ceiling. They connected to the ground as massive pillars and seemingly floating islands. Vast lakes of lava bubbled and spewed, igniting the netherrack coasts.

Steve gazed down and nearly lost balance. He’s standing on nothing; not exactly flying but he feels something solid under his feet. Of course, he wouldn't dare take a step.

“Hello.”

The young man twisted around and summoned his sword. A couple blocks away was… himself? At least that thing dressed like him. Their blue tee looked identical to Steve’s save for its tattered and singed appearance. Their hair, long and messy, barely covered a pair of pure white eyes.

The figure just stared. “Hm, nothing to say?”

Steve swallowed. “This-this is the Nether.”

“Yes,” those white eyes slightly squinted.

“You’re Herobrine aren’t you.”

Silence. Then, a laugh that’s distorted with other ghastly voices. The figure wiped away a tear and mumbled something ancient.

“Good to see you again, Steve.”

—xxx—

A few hours earlier.

“Five emeralds.”

Across the counter, a young man in a blue tee shot the villager a look.

“Three,” he replies.

The rugged armorer feigned contemplation, and scrutinized his buyer before shaking his head. Before Steve could counter offer, a bell above the entrance jingled, and the armorer excused himself to greet another patron.

Looking back at the shield hanging before him, Steve examined its craftsmanship. Iron and wood like any others, although it does come enchanted. Singed into the outer rim were the angular enchantment letters UNBREAKING. A decent shield for three emeralds.

Any other day Steve would’ve remembered to bring his own shield to the mines and really anywhere. Though that’s a habit best laid to rest. Here, shields are protection against mobs. Back in his previous realm, against both monsters and men. Netherite was like a casual outfit to those inhabitants and Steve of course. And every choice of weapon, no matter how absurd, acted as an extension of the owner themselves. Life wasn’t peaceful, but it wasn’t boring either…

The armorer busied himself with the other customers rather than spending his time haggling. It's already noon, so Steve relented. He searched through his pockets and tossed the five emeralds on the wooden counter. Placing his palm on the shield, the item shrunk and disappeared into Steve’s inventory. Seller and buyer gave each other a wave, before the latter stepped out onto the cobblestone pavement.

Outside was a relatively developed town built on the open plains. They must be a fan of tulips, as the flowers crowded along every store and house front. Wide and narrow pathways winded between dark oak dwellings and faded into the dirt around the town’s perimeter. Steve could see the gray fountain from here. Its babbling waters sounded like a forest creek and splashing in it were little brown birds.

Occasional laughter and conversation drifted from passing villagers. Some elderly women carried baskets of wool out of a pen of naked sheep. A merchant unloaded sacks of goods from his horse drawn wagon. Clad in light iron armor was another horse and its sentry. A leather ball flew over Steve’s head chased by a gray dog and screaming children. This antique town was a far cry from his previous realm, leaning more towards a place of normalcy.

Double checking his inventory display once more, Steve turns for the mines.

—xxx—

Clink. Clink. Clink…

The tip of the diamond pickaxe strikes into the last of coal. Black powder flies into the air and covers Steve’s arms in dusty gradients. Lumps of the rock tumbled to the ground.

As Steve crouched to gather the material, he heard the tapping of footsteps further down the cave. It wasn’t the bony clacks of a skeleton nor the sluggish steps of a zombie. Creepers made no noise, and he would’ve heard an enderman’s teleportation.

The footsteps got louder and more frantic. Steve heard heavy breathing and switched the pickaxe for a diamond sword.

“Who’s there,” he demanded.

A leather boot stepped into the torch light.

“N-now don’t be alarmed— “ a person looking around Steve’s age revealed himself— “I came here earlier today, but I ran out of torches and got myself lost some moments ago.”

The miner sighed and lowered the sword to his side. The stranger had on simple overalls and his blond hair was unkempt.

“I thought you were a mob.”

The other looked embarrassed. “Oh, yeah. Plenty of them down this low, I-uh-actually had to block myself into the walls before I heard you and made a run for it.”

He chuckled.

Steve nodded. Switching the sword to his off hand and summoning his pick again, the miner returned to his task. He expected the stranger to leave considering who-knows how long he’s been stuck down here. But he just stood there fidgeting with his overall straps. Though usually reserved, Steve decided to make some small talk.

“Do you come here often?”

“Most of the time with my friends, but just myself today.” Steve can hear the stranger walking behind him. “What about you?”

The miner dug into the last ore. “ I come here when I’m low on supplies.”

“Then, I assume you're also from town, since we don’t get many visitors here.”

“Yes.”

“So if you don’t mind me asking. You don’t live nearby do you? Because—not to brag— I’ve seen every face in Pine Fields and you're definitely not one of them.”

Steve backed out of the hole where the coal deposit used to be and shrugged.

“I guess not, but I do run to town for errands—”

“Wait,” the stranger realizes something, “I bet you’re not even from this realm…”

Steve smiled, “What gave that away?”

“I was just watching you pick up the coal, and then those things just disappeared! You have that magic storage system people from the inner realms use.”

This fact used to baffle Steve. He couldn’t imagine the hassle of limiting his load to what he can physically carry. The inventory, common to those from the inner realms, aren’t well known out here. In a universe with undead creatures, otherworldly dimensions, and magical potions, an invisible storage space doesn’t sound so unusual. But, as Steve learned, as natural this ability is, it must be taught the same way that athletes are taught their sport.

“I moved here a couple of years ago”

“Huh. So why’d you leave in the first place? The inner realms aren’t short on anything. I always wanted to visit those places, can you imagine what I’ll see? What am I saying— of course you can! Hey, is it true that…,” the stranger dragged on his rambles.

Just as Steve attempted to answer, a torch on the far wall snuffed out. The stranger must not have noticed as he kept rambling about the other realms. Warily, Steve walked. It was like a gust of wind had reduced it to embers.

“Did you do that?”

“No,” Steve took out his flint and steel and struck them together. Yellow sparks flew yet the torch didn't ignite. He quickly felt the tip and understood why. It was ice cold.

“ Is everything alright?” the stranger asked. “ If you’re finished with business here, we should leave. I know caves can be a… peculiar place.”
As those words left his mouth, the line of troches leading out to the cave all extinguished, and darkness filled Steve’s vision. Bats screeched. Water dropped from dripstone. Flint and steel clicked in his hands as Steve slowly put it away.

He held his breath and waited motionless. Nothing but cave ambiance.

Focusing on the pickaxe and sword still on hand, he willed the two pieces of equipment to switch positions. Taking a step back, closer to the stranger, Steve pivoted and blindly slashed the air. The moment he heard light footsteps from his target–probably dodging the hit, the miner tossed above him a bulbous glass bottle filled with blue liquid. It shattered on his head and drenched him in swirling particles. Steve’s eyes glowed purple. He could see the stranger now, their face twisted in a wicked smile.

“ You nearly got me with that swing.” they said. “Oh, and the night vision. Always come prepared right?”

Who is this guy?

Steve replied, “ You’re not surprised that I just tried to kill you?”

“ Hm. A little—” the stranger steps closer to the wall “—more surprised how you caught on.”

During their initial conversation, nothing was amiss to Steve until the stranger mentioned mobs further down the tunnel. The tunnel might have looked like unexplored territory, but Steve knew that it sloped downwards in a half “U” shape. It eventually opened to a larger lush cave system. And every block of that place has been personally lit up by Steve months ago. Unless some maniac had broken over three stacks of torches, then the stranger obviously lied that 1) he used up his supply of torches and 2) he encountered mobs.

Steve intended on getting answers before the potion wears off. “Is this some kind of robbery? Leaving me in the dark for an ambush?”

The stranger thought for a moment. “If you see it that way.”

“How did you do that?” Steve gestured to the extinguished torches.

“Only a simple trick of mine.”

“So magic then.”

“Sure.”

“Redstone?”

“You know that’s not possible.”

Steve wasn’t getting anywhere with this guy, so he readied a more…upfront approach. “I could kill you right now.”

The stranger stopped smiling, “Me, no. But certainly this body.”

“What?”

“Alright,” the stranger clapped his hands together, “Interrogation is over. We had a good talk, Steve. Now, I suggest you don’t look up.”

“How’d you know my—,” Steve hears a vwoop and something cold touches his shoulders.

Clawed humanoid hands colored like obsidian gripped onto Steve’s arms. His gaze followed up the creature's long limbs before stopping below its neck. It was an enderman. Steve tried to shake it off, leaning forward and pulled with his whole body weight. The creature didn’t budge, and instead tightened its grip. Steve stopped struggling once its claws drew blood.

The stranger grinned and approached the miner. His skin turned a light gray, and white veins grew along his limbs. An arrow materialized in his hand, tipped green. Dread pulled at Steve’s insides. His heart pounded louder than ever; all too familiar with the color of poison.

‘Hold still’ was all Steve heard before the arrowhead was stabbed into his shoulder. Adrenaline had luckily numbed the initial pain, but he was helpless against the poison. Steve gritted his teeth as his body began to tremble and twitch. His knees buckled as his lower half became paralyzed. He would’ve fallen face first if not for the enderman’s iron grip.

Steve did his best to glare at the stranger. “W-what-ngh- what the hell do you want!”

“Something that I’ve waited centuries for.” The stranger waved at the enderman. “But for now… some fun. I’ll be watching.”

On cue, the mob along with its captive disappeared in a trail of purple particles.

—xxx—

Somewhere deeper in the cave system laid a vast cavern dimly lit by lava pools and half-flooded with dark aquifers. Strong pillars of deep slate stood untouched. Hanging by black chains were abandoned mineshafts connected in a maze-like pattern. On one of these platforms, appeared the enderman. It released Steve’s body, unknowingly dropping the miner’s head on a metal beam with a deep clang. Not a second later, the mob was gone.

Steve grimaced and whispered a curse. Lying on his side, he painfully pushed himself up to his knees. The young man just sat there staring at nothing in particular though his mind was tearing for answers. That wasn’t a person. The grey skin could indicate that it was an illager, but those creatures certainly don’t traveled into caves.

Tsss…

He had no time to react. The explosion decimated the already worn platform and flung Steve into the air. He fell and fell. Wooden splinters and broken rails falling with him.

Chapter Text

He fell and fell. Wooden splinters and broken rails failing with him.

Steve was sure that he died. He expected to disappear into nothing then wake up in his bed. An escape from this nightmare was all he wanted. But as Steve’s body surfaced above the waters, he cursed whatever cruel god for letting him live.

The miner floated on his back and glanced down at the lodged arrow. The poison had eased off, though he won't be completely cured unless he took it out.

Steve whispered, “ Okay… you’ve done this before.”

Somewhere above, near the cave entrance, a flock of sheep lazily grazed on the thick grass. They simultaneously lifted their heads as a bloodcurdling scream interrupted their peace.

Back underground…

“My, my buddy… you’ve got grit.” The stranger rested on the mineshaft above, swinging his legs off the edge. “ You’re not like those pathetic villagers; they don’t even come out at night.”

Steve sat against a deep slate pillar; one hand pressed against the arrow wound. He had nothing to say to the stranger. Their earlier interaction already showed that he wouldn’t reveal his intentions. All Steve knew was that whatever entity this was, it’s malicious. His body still shook from the effects of the poison, though the bleeding had nearly stopped.

The stranger spoke, “You said you’re from the inner realms. Then you must know how to fight,” he snapped his fingers, “Show me.”

Among the black hollow expanses of the cavern echoed sounds of bony clacks and groans. Rotten corpses lumbered past each other in hoards. Glowing clusters of red eyes creeped out from the webbed crevices and screeched. The aquifers bubbled.

Steve froze. With the overwhelming noise he heard, he wouldn’t dare look. His inventory appeared before him. Sword and shield materialized in both hands. Dragging his finger across the display, Steve moved bread, torches, and potions onto the hotbar.

An arrow whistled across the open space. The miner instinctively ducked, missing the projectile by a block. He gorged down a loaf and felt his life regenerate. Dashing out into the cave’s open space, Steve searched for some escape, another tunnel perhaps. His eyes met the ceiling, and he immediately raised his shield. A spider slammed down and dug its jagged fangs into the wooden surface. It hissed, venom drooling out from its mouth pieces. Just as it attempted to crawl over the shield, Steve held it close and dropped to the ground with all his weight, crushing the mob into a grotesque splat. Not a few seconds more, its remains crumpled into white dust.

More spiders rained down around Steve. He pushed himself up and ran straight through. The arachnids lunged at him but they could not keep up. It's in these moments that Steve was grateful for being one of the faster entities in the universe. The miner gained distance from the spiders then realized the approaching undead some blocks before him. A high pitched whine preceded the appearance of a baby zombie, and Steve wondered how those things kept their massive head aloft, especially with a decaying body and all. But no more time to think as the ravenous child raced ahead of the rest of the hoard. Steve makes a hard right towards a rocky mound; he needed to get a better view of the scene.

Immediate regret. There must’ve been water trickling above the mound, since it was wet beneath his boots. The uneven steps and cracked crevices had become slippery, and Steve hadn’t noticed how inclined the surface was. Still, he treaded ahead, making sure not to slip. He could hear the small menace behind him–

“Behind you.”

Steve’s body leaned as the baby zombie grabbed onto his leg and clamped its teeth down. He cried out in pain. Caught off balance, the two tumbled back down. The fall, however, doesn’t throw off the mobs. At the base of the mount, Steve hefted his sword with both hands and–executioner style– decapitates the creature. It loosened its jaw, and he quickly kicked away its head.

“Shit.” Blood began to stain his pants. Steve decided that he just needed to get the hell out of this place.

Gasping at the pain throbbing through his injured leg, the miner turned around… only to be met by his other problem. A mass of zombies grabbed at their meal, but he had lept back in time, missing their grasp by a hair. They weren’t quick, but Steve knew how easily they could overwhelm him.

He had to get away. Maybe deeper in the cave? The system gradually branched upwards into two areas; both equally dark.

A string of arrows met Steve’s shield with deep thunks.

The mineshaft doesn’t seem so high, perhaps he can build his way up.

Wide swings from his sword toppled a few mobs to close.

No, not the mineshaft. That entity is still up there.

Though busy with the mob of—well—mobs before him, Steve heard a greater danger to his right.

Tsss…

Not this time. The young man slashed twice, knocking back the creeper. Yet, its uneven green skin still swelled until it lit white…

Though Steve had his shield ready, the deafening explosion shook him to the core. He scrunched his eyes, ringing in his ears was followed by the dull scent of gunpowder.

With the young man’s back turned, a nearby mob took its opportunity to attack. Its gnarly hands reached into its purple robe and unveiled a dark gray concoction. The potion shattered against the back of Steve’s head. Surprised, the miner brushed a hand through his hair and examined the smoky liquid staining his fingertips.

Weakness pulled at his limbs. The miner jabbed at an approaching zombie, though his sword did not even pierce through the creature's torso. Steve tried again, yanking out the blade and swinging at the zombie’s neck. What should’ve been a clean cut was instead a halfway slit. Black blood dripped from the wound though that wasn’t a problem for an undead.

“Just—die already!”

By the third strike, the zombie finally fell. His time spent with this one mob, however, allowed the rest to gain on Steve.

Arrows and hungry teeth became overwhelming. Zombies clawed at him at every chance he lowered his shield, and the spider hoard was eager to give Steve another dose of poison. He shoved his way through, sword ripping into rotten flesh. Every moment that Steve gained breathing room, he stuffed his face with bread, stamina immediately generating.

He was able to see the edge of the waves of monsters. Also, the weakness was already wearing off.

And so was his night vision. Unlike the common recipe for this potion, Steve had mastered his personal brew during his days in the inner realms. The effects he received lasted three to four times longer than usual.

He must’ve lost track of how long he’s been down here.

As his sight flashed between light and darkness, Steve summoned another night vision potion from his inventory. He chugged it, nearly choking himself. The empty bottle was tossed behind him and shattered on the head of a skeleton.

Steve steadily approached where the cavern splits in two, opting for the right with no real reason. He expected a gradual descent or even a steep drop. Several blocks ahead the ground does indeed dip.

Rather than more deepslate caves, Steve cursed as he found himself on the bank of an aquifer. There’s nothing but water here, but he can’t turn back. Maybe he can swim through? Steve knew of the possibility that this body of water connects to another cavern in a U shape.

Before Steve could step into the aquifer, something tight wrapped around his ankle. Looking down, it was a pale blue hand. He jerked his leg, but it didn't give up. Steve barely caught his breath as he was violently pulled under. His panic muffled by the waters.

Below, Steve felt as if someone had chained an iron ball to his leg. No matter how much he kicked, the drowned only pulled him deeper, leaving behind a trail of air bubbles.

The surface was getting farther and farther.

Opening his inventory, Steve manifested a blood red concoction in his hand. He covered his thumb over the spout the moment he popped off the cork to prevent water from entering.

Honestly, why hadn’t he done this earlier?

Steve drank it all. Unlike the weakness from before, his body was flooded with strength. As the drowned pulled him closer to the aquifer floor, the miner gave one last tug at his leg. The force was enough to sever the creature’s hand from its wrist with a nasty crack.

The mob turned with a look of disbelief at the stump that was its hand, then let out an angry groan.

It lunged… only to have its head meet the end of Steve’s sword.

The mob dissipates.

Steve could see other drowned swimming his way, some armed, some armored. He couldn’t fend them off now even with the added strength

Air. 

As he kicked towards the surface, he could see the looming shadow of some humanoid creature. Probably another zombie waiting for its meal.

He was so close. Suffocation already squeezed at his chest. Steve just needed to hold on for one more second—

A bright trident was thrusted into the surface of the water.

Who threw—?

Steve couldn’t dodge it. How could he? It was practically a torpedo.

His purple eyes widened, and precious air escaped his mouth. The trident had found its mark right in his midsection.

…

For a moment Steve floated there in his own blood. The trident hadn’t finished him off, but maybe the drowning would. He needed this nightmare to end.

Water filled his lungs and his whole body convulsed. In the midst of this, Steve also felt himself ascending. It wasn’t the feeling of death, no. It was the trident, returning to its master with its prey.

They broke the surface. Steve’s body dripping red, and the weapon floating back into the hands of its owner. Into the hands of the stranger. The scene was like a fisherman holding his latest catch at the end of his harpoon.

The stranger effortlessly held the weight of the trident and his catch in one hand. He looked up to the unconscious Steve and even twisted the trident to get a better look. Then he smiled as if proud and muttered something that the other wouldn’t have understood.

The last heart of life left the miner. The thin string tying his consciousness to his body snapped. And just like the countless mobs he slayed just earlier, Steve’s corpse cracked and crumbled into white dust.

…

…

Consciousness untethered.

…

…

New body forming.

…

…

The softness of his pillow.

…

…

His eyes opened to see the ceiling of his home, and the full moon outside the window.

For a moment he had no thoughts. No recollection of what just transpired in the last couple of hours. But then his breathing picked up.

His chest rapidly rose up and down, and it burned. His eyes watered until tears steadily flowed down his face.

Steve never liked the respawn process.

Chapter Text

Steve never liked the respawn process.

You are dissolved into the dust from which you were molded, and your soul set free. The same dust that the most wretched mobs were birthed from. The same soul, that wonderful engine, that powered the dust. All return to the universe’s workbench as scratch material. Scratch material that patiently waits to enter the world again as something new.

Your life as a human, a spider, a sheep, or maybe a puny silverfish came to an end, but the universe is always working. Always wanting to put something different in the Realms. You’ll be back in the world in no time, your dust and soul, as something else. What made up a miserable ghast was now a lazy cow in grassy pastures. Who was a humble farmer was now a stray among blue ice spikes. It's not reincarnation. It's just the natural state of things.

The greatest scholars across all Realms sacrifice their lives to study this process. They compiled their knowledge in dull books that sat in some of the largest man-made structures Steve has ever seen. Libraries with shelves that looked like the walls of an endless labyrinth paired with Archivists who act like walking encyclopedias. Steve would spend nights in those libraries trying to make sense of the scholar’s big words and pencil diagrams. He flipped past crusty covers and peeled apart aged pages. He’s searching for that word: respawn.

Yes, it healed his injuries and gave him an entirely new body, but it wasn’t perfect. The claw marks and arrow punctures from the monster horde were nowhere to be found across his chest. Not even the teeth marks from that zombie child survived through the Respawn.

Steve sat up from his bed and lifted his shirt. He examined the three circular scars that had formed along the middle of his torso, and no doubt identical ones appeared directly on his back. They were a grim souvenir from the cause of death. His previous ‘souvenir’, pale splotches of once withered skin, was nowhere to be found.

One trauma after another. The miner rubbed his face in disbelief then flicked two fingers.

His inventory flashed open. Steve never developed a habit of organizing his items, as everything was arranged haphazardly in their slots. But everything was there. Equipment, coal, torches, diamonds, anything he possessed at the time of death right here. A convenient little ability Steve learned during his time in the Inner Realms.

Wait.

Had he mined out diamonds? Sure, he was far down enough for diamond veins to form, but that well-explored area had been depleted of precious ores long before Steve moved Realms.

No further thoughts, Steve locked the diamonds and the rest of the raw materials in a double chest next across the room. Goosebumps formed over his arms the second he slammed the lid close.

Breathe in. Breathe out. A maniac with command over monsters had just sent him through one of the worst nights of his life.

He won’t try to think anymore. The Respawn couldn’t heal the mental trauma unfortunately. Steve slumped to his knees, and his hands trembled. Eyes in a trance-like state noticed the room began to melt and warp. The ceiling slowly bulged down but made no sound of crackling wood. Colors started bleeding into one another, and Steve quickly shut his eyes.

It’s not darkness he sees. Rather, he’s underground, but the caves aren’t familiar. Stone colored like monster blood stretched unevenly on the ceiling. They connected to the ground as massive pillars and seemingly floating islands. Vast lakes of lava bubbled and spewed, igniting the netherrack coasts. 

Steve gazed down and nearly lost balance. He’s standing on nothing; not exactly flying but he feels something solid under his feet. Of course, he wouldn't dare take a step.

“Hello.”

The young man twisted around and summoned his sword. A couple blocks away was… himself? At least that thing dressed like him. Their blue tee looked identical to Steve’s save for its tattered and singed appearance. Their hair, long and messy, barely covered a pair of pure white eyes.

The figure just stared.  “Nothing to say? Did you receive the little gift I left you?” 

Steve swallowed. “This—this is the Nether.”

“Yes,” those white eyes slightly squinted.

“You’re Herobrine aren’t you.”

Silence. Then, a laugh that’s distorted with other ghastly voices. The figure wiped away a tear and mumbled something ancient.

“You are quick, Stephen.”

“Steve.”

“Of course. And this,” he waved both arms around him, “as you likely guessed is my home. A hell for your people, but the place grows on anyone given enough time.” If by time, he meant an eternity.

Somewhere on the Nether ceiling, a weak spot gave away and down spewed another column of magma, sounding like the cracking of an iceberg.

“I’ve brought you here—your soul at least— because I wanted to give you a ‘brief notice’.”

Herobrine took a few steps towards his captive. Had it not been for the fact that they’re literally standing on air, Steve would have darted.

He grinned, “I am a legendary being, yet I can’t be there.”

Herobrine pointed up.

“The Overworld doesn’t particularly tolerate foreign things like me. Like those things down there.”

Steve quickly glanced to where Herobrine gestured.

Below, rising out of the lava was a crimson forest. Bundles of shroomlights lit large sections of the wild terrain, and from between the gnarled fungi vines, Steve barely made out a gathering of piglins. Nasty and brutish things, but he was quite familiar with their intelligence.

“Do you know what happens if one is unfortunate enough to step into the Overworld?” Herobrine declared.

“Have you seen the way their skin diseases and rots into green, their bones exposed?”

Was this panic? Steve felt locked into place.

Every word from Herobrine seemed to shake his core.

“Piglins go mad in a few minutes, but not the hostile kind. Just mindless things that attack anything which provokes— an animal. And I hate to admit that that is the one thing I shared with those beasts.”

The white-eyed man stood just a block in front of Steve. The latter gritting his teeth.

“I have felt that madness. And when it happened…rumors and legends about me spread. Some were coincidentally true, and others left me puzzled.”

Herobrine immediately grabbed Steve’s shoulders.

“I don’t relish your fear, Steve, not that much. I myself am afraid of what becomes of me after stepping through that portal again.”

Steve’s hand had been hovering a little below his ribs. He imagined the cold tips of the trident still driven through his abdomen.

He whispered, “…You-you killed me.”

“And you lived. I took that gamble after hearing you were from the Inner Realms.”

Steve furrowed his brows for a second and wondered if white-eyes here really knew where the Respawn came from.

“Wh-who was that you…used?”

Herobrine looked annoyed. “That guy? Some wandering fellow who lost his way after night fell. He’s alive, but that is not important.”

Steve tried to back out of the other’s hold, but only felt the other’s grip tighten.

“Listen, Steve. Talking like this is draining. I am anchoring your soul to hell all the way from the Overworld, so let me clear.”

The white-eyed man backed away, and Steve could finally breathe.

“I have matters to settle in the Overworld, but I need a host who is compliant. A host with capabilities. Someone like you.”

Steve scoffed. “Me, compliant?”

“Rather than running the second you realized that I wasn’t human, you engaged and attacked. That’s the most compliance I’ll get from any creatures of the Overworld. And the villagers are too skittish.”

“You want to do what? Possess me whenever you wish?” This couldn’t be real. The fact that he was standing before a figure from myths and legends hadn’t fully registered in Steve’s mind.

“What kind of ‘matters’ are you dealing with in the Overworld?”

Herobrine scowled. “You’ll know once you agree.”

Steve really wasn’t interested in whatever Herobrine had to say. If the legends had spoken true, then the miner would be a fool to believe anything this entity said. He just has to wait this interaction out. Herobrine would exhaust his powers and release Steve from whatever’s keeping him here. 

“You and everyone get to live your normal day-to-day lives, and I get to keep my sanity should I have access to the Overworld.”

Sanity?

“Nothing stops you from taking me by force…” Steve shouldn’t have said that.

Those eyes seemed to glow a little brighter, and the miner realized that of course Herobrine had considered that. It wouldn’t be hard.

The other man chuckled. “I know. Isn’t that ridiculous? Why am I giving my precious time to a simple human?”

The Nether air swirled around him, carrying up burning fumes from the lava. The winds pushed past Herobrine’s messy hair and exposed to Steve a face of contempt. 

“I could have made you my little vessel the moment we spoke in the caves, Steve. I could be walking around in your skin right now and have you trapped in your own head. I choose not to. Not yet.”

He approached Steve again, forcing the other to step back. A lump was forming in the young man’s throat.

“My previous ‘hosts’ picked from around your village had put up a little too much fight. They tried to drive me out, put their whole selves into it, and in doing so…” Herobrine opened a bandaged hand and manifested an unloaded crossbow. He doesn’t hesitate to hold the weapon against his captive’s forehead.

“They ended their short lives,” Herobrine pressed the trigger with a harsh click , causing Steve to flinch, “blatantly dismissing the warnings I gave beforehand. ‘You’ll lose your mind’ I said. ‘Resisting the will of an eldritch deity isn’t a good idea’ and all that. They paid no heed and took the consequences.”

Herobrine released the crossbow. It dropped through the invisible air Steve stood on and plopped into the lava. Fire flared from where it landed.

In the back of Steve’s mind, a nagging thought was just confirmed, and it terrified him.

He never had a choice from the beginning. Because when does a person acknowledge the dirt beneath his boot? The moment the Respawn brought him back to life was the moment this entity got what he wanted. A tool that won’t break from the stress of his control. At least, one that won’t stay broken. Now, Herobrine was just giving Steve a forewarning of what’s to come.

Oh, how he wanted to laugh at all this, maybe even send a prayer to whatever cruel gods are out there to save him from this cruel god.

“From your silence, I believe my point has been put across. ”

Steve lurched as the nausea from before overcame him again. The whole Nether was melting and becoming blobs of red and orange in his eyes. He tightly held his head and felt if his skull would explode. 

Steve could hear a sigh from Herobrine.

Barely clinging onto bits of consciousness, the miner glared at the entity and flipped the finger.

Chapter Text

It's been a few days since that conversation with Herobrine. Since then Steve was cooped up in his cabin in the woods and lit every block of the area outside with torches. Thankfully no one comes close to his base to witness the handiworks of a madman. Steve can’t be bothered to care how it looked outside as long as the torches do their thing. And they did. No mobs emerged from the trees when night fell. The usual groans of zombies are replaced by crickets which Steve listens to all night long. 

All night long… all three.

Four . Steve ticked off in his head. And he would go on for more.

The young man stood by the window. His palms pressed on the birch window sill, and his forehead leaned on the glass. Those eyes once alert now couldn’t even concentrate on things within his reach. 

Steve’s bed sat right outside of his vision. Oh how that thing tugged on an invisible string tied to his soul. It urged him to feel the feathered-stuffed pillow and the neatly folded blanket. It was luring him with the promise of sleep. Something that Steve was so afraid of. 

So afraid that white-eyes would finally take his opportunity and that Steve won’t wake up as himself ever again. Trapped in a nightmarish reality where something otherworldly walked in his skin. So for the past 3 days, the miner waited and waited, the stress welling in his chest. Steve backed away from the window and nearly gasped at the sight of his own reflection. 

He wasn’t wearing a blue T-shirt anymore. No, pristine plates of diamond armor covered his chest and shoulders. A diamond helmet reminiscent of a gladiator’s was set over his head. Gripped in his left hand was a golden apple, softly glowed purple. In the other was a sword made of the darkest metal. And the worst detail of all that Steve saw in this split second: the grey-white dust sticking to his hands.

Steve stared, and the tired eyes of the reflection stared back. It was so much of what the young man used to me. Back then, when the power to Respawn clouded his judgment, Steve couldn’t see himself as a person anymore. And after experiencing the first few deaths, perspectives can change.

It was the indifference for others—that careless attitude—that got the best of him. 

Something heavy slammed against the other side of the window. It shook Steve out of his daze, as he no longer saw his past self in the glass. He blinked and caught a glimpse of the thing that had disturbed him.

The emaciated form of a phantom had just begun ascending into the night sky. As it rejoined the flock above, two more gradually flew towards Steve’s home. Of course, they slammed into the window like the last one did.

Steve sighed and pulled over the curtains.

Maybe he’ll die of exhaustion this time around.

Somewhere in the distant mountains, far from the sleeping village and some many more towns and cities, was a gathering of plain looking people. Plain in the sense that all the men dressed in the same white tunics and the women in white long sleeved dresses. They all stood a distance away from one hooded priest who held in his hands a parchment glowing with enchanted runes.

One woman approached the hooded figure, leaving footprints in the snow. She whispered something in his ear.

A deep voice replied, “Yes, quite exhausting,” he huffs a labored breath “but we cannot give up, now especially, when we’re at the all or nothing point.”

On the ground, burned a summoning ring that’s barely maintained by whatever magic the priest was chanting. Its intricate, golden lines were fragile, yet it burned and flickered with power. At its center was a lump of netherrack also lit aflame. The crowd stood in silence, and no one dared to disturb the priest. 

For the past 3 days, they’ve camped here. At exactly midnight they and their holy priest attempt the impossible. At least, impossible for those heretics and nonbelievers. Others would laugh at the idea of their actions and call them lunatics.

Caught up in stories made to discipline unruly children.

With his free hand, the chanting priest beckoned forward a younger man who looked barely into his 20’s. He lifted a bucket of water that was placed beside his feet and, with all his might, drenched the netherrack.

Except the flames don’t quench. Water turned into a burst of steam. It was as if the Nether itself was extending its influence on this little piece. Bright sparks popped in the air above the netherrack and reality itself cracked like glass. The flickering form of a person blinked into view and the wind picked up.

The priest speaks louder in the ancient language. His hood was blown back by the wind to reveal a tall man with tanned skin. His long hair was tied back to reveal a set of blood red eyes.

Soon, the gathering of men and women gasped at the sight of the myth, their god, entering the Overworld. His form was very shaky—glitchy. So unstable that it was hard to focus on exactly what they were seeing. 

Herobrine hovered just a few feet in the air. He was slightly hunched with both hands pressed against the sides of his temples, grimacing in pain.

He doesn’t want to be here. At least, not like this.

This place, the Overworld, corrupts entities like him, yet these idiots insist on bringing him here. Somehow, these humans got their hands on old magic. So old that not even Herobrine remembered encountering it in the past. It must’ve been used by some civilizations long before he first crossed dimensions. And so with that magic, this cult of maniacs had been pestering him for years, but only in the past few months did they make headway in their practice. 

“Be released from your hellish prison. Fulfill your purpose and bring upon the New World!” exclaimed the priest.

The audacity to speak to him in his dead language.  

Herobrine was the unwilling participant of an neverending tug-of-war with these cultists with the rope bound to his literal being. It drove him mad, feeling his body breaking and reassembling between the two dimensions.

As the priest continued to spew nonsense. Herobrine stared at the flaming circle on the ground. It had melted a large radius of snow, and the humans stood away at a distance. 

But that won’t help them.. 

Reaching out a flickering hand, Herobrine willed the flames to grow, commanding it with one word—

“Eat.”

The priest heard and paused for a second. And in that second, the fire grew vicious and towered up like a wall between Herobrine and his captors. No one could see through the column of fire to notice the wide smile plastered over the entity’s ace. 

The once calm humans panicked. Some froze in place, some screamed, and many ran. But the priest doesn’t even flinch. No, he was expressionless even as the column burst. Orange fire turned blue as it blasted through the air and landed on the humans. Their guttural cries filled the snowy mountains. Their white clothing turned black as the soul fire hungrily ate away. But the priest, seemingly unconcerned with death, just… stood there… until the flames consumed him.

Interesting. Herobrine thought to himself.

Since his body hadn’t fully formed in the Overworld, he quickly felt the pull of the Nether. The entity sighed. Every passing day these lunatic humans become more of a problem. 

Herobrine completely faded from the Overworld, leaving behind a scene of flailing and burning bodies. 

Time to get in touch with Steve.

It was the break of dawn. Fog was lifting from the ground, and the dew drops balanced on the blades of grass and leaves. Why was Steve in town again? Oh, right.

The young man had the great idea of killing monsters to keep himself awake. It has just been one night, but the bloodbath depleted a good portion of Steve’s resources (and maybe his sanity?). He’s here at the east entrance of the town covered in poorly done bandages that hid last night's injuries. 

What did he need? Iron, food, glass bottles, and…

“Steve! Where were you? I thought you had died!”

Don’t remind him.

Down the cobble streets were a tight row of homes. The voice came from a single, second story window.

Steve weakly waved back. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Peets. How are you?”

Mrs. Peets, a plump woman, adjusted her thick glasses and squinted down at Steve.

“Now look at the state of you! What have you gotten yourself into for the past four days? Did you get lost in the mines?”

Steve sheepishly replied, “Got ambushed by some nasty creatures.”

“Uh-huh. And that wouldn’t be a problem if you lived in town with the rest of us than out in the woods. Hey! Don’t say anything. I’m just voicing my concerns, that's all. Your daily errand runs here are the only way I know you’re well.”

Mrs. Peets often made Steve feel like a child being lectured by an angry mother. Though, she cared about him. She was the first person to connect with Steve after he moved realms.

“Mrs. Peets, please don’t worry so much about me. I actually came today to visit the smithy.”

“My husband? Oh, he’s at the shop already. You should be grateful he’s always up bright and early.”

Steve smiled, “I really am. And… you know… I think I’ll take up some jobs around town today. Make up for the last few days?”

Mrs. Peets seemed pleased. “Ah! Always good to have helping hands around. I know the posting boards at the plaza have been full of requests.”

Steve and Mrs. Peets said their goodbyes. The former was surprised that he can still hold a coherent conversation. 

“Twenty ingots on the house,” replied Mr. Peets. From his inventory, he dropped the iron into neat stacks on the counter. He was part of the few occupations that Steve noticed utilizing the inventory space.

“Uh—I— please, I can pay for them.” 

Steve held in his hands the emeralds, but the blacksmith pushed it back away. 

“I mean it when I say it’s on the house, kid, ” he crossed his arms and grinned, “you have my lovely wife to thank.”

Of course, Mrs. Peets would do something like this for him.

“But, still, this is a lot. I should at least pay half.”

“Nope! Take it or leave it, Steve. You’re a frequent patron of my humble business, so try to consider this a gift.”

Steve chuckled and took the ingots. It’s true. This place does have better deals compared to others.

“And get yourself some sleep.” It wasn’t hard to notice dark circles under Steve’s eyes.

“No need to tell me anymore, sir. Someone else already chewed me out.”

The two laughed and talked some more about the weather, town gossip, heck even the economy. Steve would cherish the simplest interactions like these. And right now, they take his mind off of a certain “deal” with the devil.

Steve pushed the doors open to leave and heard Mr. Peets call out—

“And don’t go adventuring so much! You heard the news. People are disappearing left and right these days. ”

Oh, Steve knows exactly who’s responsible.

The young man gave a thumbs up. The doorbell jingled as he left.

The morning was growing lively. Villagers rushing to work, deliveries unloading from wagons, and the clip-clops of horses filled the atmosphere. One of the buildings adjacent to the plaza was a postal office, and outside of which stood a board of short-work job requests. Steve was currently contemplating between taking two pinned papers.

HELP WANTED! 

PART-TIME SENTINEL TO PATROL NORTHERN GATES. NIGHTLY SHIFTS.

That was an excellent excuse to keep Steve’s sleepless streak.

SHEEP ESCAPED PENS. EXPERIENCED SHEPHERDS NEEDED FOR ROUNDUP.

A much more exciting job than patrol.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a gang of hollering children ran past Steve, this time, chasing an orange cat that held a half dead mouse between its jaws. The energy of the kids kicked up a dust trail, and Steve overheard them saying—

“NOOO!”

“Dumb cat! Give back Mr. Micey!”

“No, you’re dumb for bringing your rat!”

“He’s not a rat, stupid!”

“I have fiiiish!”

That last kid, a thin boy with curly brown hair, clipped past Steve.

“Woah!” The piece of fish slipped from his hands. As he bent down to pick it up, an older girl in pigtails appeared from nowhere beside Steve, startling him.

“Hey, be more careful!” She chided.

The boy dramatically huffed, “Okay, sis.”

“And what else do you say?” She points at Steve.

“Sorry.”

“Nope, I’m telling mom.”

He had second thoughts.

“Ok, ok!” The boy looked at Steve, made a surprised face, and diverted his eyes away. “I’m sorry for running into you, mister.”

The girl, his older sister, proudly smiled. “Hmf!” She beckoned him to leave. “Go on, you have a Mr. Micey to save!”

Steve wasn’t even able to get a word in before the boy ran to catch up with the other children, now chasing the cat in circles around the fountain. In fact, he barely registered that whole interaction. He couldn’t help but huff a laugh.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you having trouble reading the papers?” asked the girl.

“Uh… no. I’m fine.”

“You sure? I saw you standing here for a looong time now,” she squinted at Steve, “And you look as blind as a bat to me.”

The strangeness of children.

“I know my vision works perfectly fine, thank you for asking.” (Please leave me alone).

“You suurrre? I can hardly see them. Hey, You’re like my grandpa! He can’t see well and never wants to admit it. But he’s got these white clouds covering his eyes.”

Not a second thought past and an iron sword manifested in Steve’s hand, the blade pointed away from the girl. She lets out a woah.

Steve turned his back to her and held up the sword’s reflective surface to eye level. He stares into the sword, and the face of Herobrine stares back.

Heart and blood pressure dropped. The world sounded muffled; he was taking shorter and shorter breaths. Exhaustion compounded with dread.

“I…need to go.” Steve rushed from where he stood, leaving behind the girl confused.

He didn’t know where his legs were taking him. But anywhere but here was good. The smells and sights of the town whipped past him like the wind. Faces of usually recognizable townspeople were scribbled over with grey. Steve sprinted through the streets with the same carelessness as the children, nearly hitting a horse-drawn wagon head on.

Watch it! Yelled some. 

S-sorry. Steve mumbled

He maneuvered through tighter crowds and corners until he could see the stone bridge leading out of the town’s boundaries. He sprinted past a guard in armor who, upon noticing Steve’s unconcealed weapon, shouted for him to halt.

Shit. Steve stopped in his tracks.

“Good morning, citizen. State your purpose for being armed.”

What good excuses does he have?

“It was an accident, officer. I-I’m a bit absent minded today. I promise I have no bad intentions.”

“Then turn around and speak to me.”

So Steve hesitantly turned. “Please officer, I have a… personal emergency that I have to get to—”

“Are you blind?”

So it’s that noticeable? 

“No, just an… abnormal condition.” The grip in Steve’s right hand, the one holding the sword, tightened on its own. 

The guard was skeptical, but chose not to question further. “Alright, son. Just keep your weapons at home from now on. We don’t want any of that suspicious criminal activity. Got it?”

Steve was quick to answer, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” The guard was satisfied. “Do you have access to an inventory? Somewhere to put that sword away?”

“I—yes, I do.” He willed the sword to disappear which it did, but in a blink of an eye, it reappeared.

Steve tried to hide his surprise though his brows were clearly furrowed. He eased his fingers from the hilt, but the sword just popped in and back out of his inventory. Steve tried again, this time opting to switch to a different item, a stick. The stick was quickly replaced by the sword. He tried for golden apples that he always carries around. Apples, again, switched back to the sword. 

Steve futilely attempted this with every item. He was so desperate to placate the guard and leave that he never questioned why his inventory acted like this. The guard, on the other hand, was unamused.

“No reason for you to be fooling around, son.”

“Sir, I promise. I don’t know what’s happening.” Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. “This—this doesn’t usually happen.”

The guard sighed, “Seems to me like you need more practice. I know not many of us here use the inventory, so how about you hand the weapon to me so you can handle whatever emergencies you need to get to. Come by anytime to the sheriff’s building to pick it up.”

Good idea.

The guard offered his hand out and simultaneously another of Steve’s items manifested, replacing the sword. The object wasn’t even some ordinary thing like food or building materials. 

Hell, it was his loaded crossbow, with Steve’s index finger directly on the trigger. 

The older man before him visibly tensed up.

“Hey! I said you can stop the whole switcheroo now—”

Everything escalated. Steve’s arm gained a mind of its own and carefully lifted the crossbow to eye level. The trigger clicked, sending a point blank arrow directly into the head of the poor guard. 

“AARGH!” The man recoiled. The arrow was lodged into one of his eye sockets.

Steve could do nothing but watch the man writhe in pain. He looked for words to say but found none. He wanted to turn and run but his feet firmly planted in place.

“D-damn you! Backup! I need backup!” Fresh blood dripped down the guard’s face.

No, stop. Don’t call the others.

What has he done? He swore he didn’t—

“Let’s leave,” came a voice from Steve’s head.

Icey sensations tingled all over his skin; it felt like he had fallen into a pit of ice. Steve watched in horror as the veins on his forearms pulsed black. They were the exact ones that he had previously encountered on that stranger in the caves.

Purple particles, those reminiscent of an enderman’s, began swirling around him. And as the first backup guards exited past the gate, those particles were sucked towards Steve. 

Vwoop. 

He was gone.

In bright daylight, on the open plains, Steve teleported back into reality in a puff of enderman particles.

He recognized this place. It was quite a distance north of the town. He can hear the river’s flowing waters to his left.

Human bodies, however, weren’t suitable for teleportation, and Steve’s mind was already hanging by a thread.

Everything weighed on the young man’s body, and he felt the urge to hurl and blackout all at once. Unconsciousness took him first. His body swayed then toppled onto the grass, dull eyes shut.

“…”

It was fine. Herbrine would wait for the body to recover. 

Chapter Text

It was fine. Herobrine was willing to wait for the body to wake.

He walked along the river bend, over the grass and sand. Through the eyes of his host, Herobrine observed the running waters of the river. As it meandered, sandy banks washed up along its curves. Some parts of the river were shallow enough to make out the algae-covered rocks; their green fuzzy surfaces swept in the direction of the current. Occasionally, a fish broke the surface and sent out small ripples.

It was noon. Heat from the sun overhead was causing the host to sweat, though Herobrine, from the Nether and all, couldn’t complain. He was gradually receiving all the sensations from possessing a living being. He could discern the smell of wild grass and daisies. Leaves and branches rustled in a nearby forest. He made out the distant baa-ing of a herd of sheep. A breeze touched his warm skin, and Herobrine welcomed it. For this was the kind of peace that the Nether couldn’t offer.

The immersion was broken by something tugged against his chest. Just within arm’s reach, behind him, was a ghost of Steve, staring down at his semi-transparent form. Remaining quiet, Herobrine gauged the other’s reaction and found it all too amusing. The miner was turning his hands front and back, touching his torso, and realizing the overwhelming numbness in his body. That look on his face, disbelief and horror, was all familiar to Herobrine. 

So, he laughed in Steve’s voice. The other recoiled at the sight of himself.

“ Oh , that does not get old. Why so surprised? I got to the body first,” The entity had a carefree smile. 

With a wave of his hand, Steve’s inventory appeared. “Hmm, interesting use of space, though very cluttered.”

In the few moments that took Herobrine to find what he looked for, Steve dove for his body… and phased right through it. And for a second, it felt as if nothing changed. He was a fool to think retaking control from an otherworldly being was so simple. 

The young man’s disappointment was disrupted by a soft voice whispering into his ear. He searched for its source but found that it came from everywhere. Then another, and another. Some were child-like, some were old, a few were soft and kind, and a few were harsh.

Now how did you get here?

It’s him! It’s him!

Well, that was a dumb move, buddy.

Who is he?

Did you hear about the boy who slayed a dragon?

What did he want to prove?

Probably just did it for fame and fortune. Mortals are so easy to read.

All that glory!

Mortals and their tiny dreams.

With so much drama!

Hee-hee! I think he can hear me.

Go mind your business.

H e shouldn’t be here…

GET HIM OUT.

It evolved into a cluster of conversations, arguments, and screams all crammed into Steve’s head. And he couldn’t make out even one. It was like being trapped in a tunnel of thundering echoes slamming into each other. As the voices grew louder and louder, Steve covered his ears, pressure expanding inside his skull.

Somehow, being a ghost doesn’t free him from pain because his head throbbed .

The voices gossiped, shouted, and babbled away.

You go talk to him.

No way, you do it!

Say, what’s your homeland like?

He’s probably homeless.

GET OUT.

Why are you so far from home? 

Is he running from something?

Hiding from something?

What’s to hide?

Yeah! What are you hiding?

Bringing your ax down on that innocent creature’s neck sure was fulfilling, huh, buddy.

GET HIM OUT, NOW.

What an idiot. 

They died because of you!

Look, he doesn’t even have anything to say for himself.

Um, hello? Say something.

Coward much?

“Stop it,” Steve begged. But the only response from the crowd of voices were scoffs and giggles. They were pulling his mind into bits and pieces.

“Hadn’t I warned you before?” Herobrine’s words broke through. “I’m sure that our last conversation was just days ago.”

The voices went dead; it’s just him again. The aching subsided, and Steve eventually uncovered his ears.

“That’s my soul, at least, the human equivalent of one.” Herobrine looked displeased. “Go on. Touch it again. See if it works in your favor the second time.”

Steve doesn’t.

“Good.”

Herobrine closed the inventory and continued wandering along the river. Steve was pulled along like a balloon just a few paces behind; he hid his shaking hands.

A golden apple was Herobrine’s chosen item which he bit into and chewed. Some moments later he swallowed. The apple was turned in his hand and another crisp bite was taken out.

Crunch… 

Crunch… 

Crunch… 

Steve had a look on his face.

Crunch…

Crunch…

Glowing juice dripped down his palm.

Crunch…

Crunch…

What was happening?

Crunch…

By the time all that’s left of the apple was its core, Steve was sure that he experienced an eternity.

White eyes took a quick glance at Steve and continued eating… the core, seeds, and stem. The latter, obviously uncomfortable, decided it’s best to turn his attention elsewhere until he’s done.

Blue and red wisps trailed off his skin. Steve could not feel the effects of absorption and regeneration from the apple. Though, the one in possession of the body certainly could. 

Herobrine surveyed the landscape for a few seconds and asked, “Where is the nearest Nether portal?”

A moment of contemplation.

“I don’t know.”

Herobrine frowned. “Is there not one in that human settlement we just left?”

There is. But it wasn’t exactly public property. Steve and everyone else had to be approved by the town’s council before crossing that portal. Visits are heavily regulated to prevent novice adventurers from losing themselves to the Nether’s deadly environment. Thus, free exploration was quite discouraged. Frequent users who are approved were usually in search of resources only available on the other side. Quartz and glowstone for example.

“Well, is there?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve lied.

Herobrine’s eye twitched.

“Then you’re not understanding. This arrangement,” the entity waved between himself and Steve, “isn’t something I enjoy, either. I want to be done with it as much as you do. So, lies like that would only prolong your misery.”

Steve was being glared down by his own face. 

“Am I clear?”

The miner bit his tongue but eventually muttered, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Steve pointed to the direction of the town. The other envisioned the cobblestone bridge where they had last encountered the guard. And with just a few seconds of absorption left, Herobrine willed the body to teleport once again.

When the two landed, some of the shock was alleviated by the golden apple, however, there still lingered a tightness in his chest. Breathing took greater effort, and a soreness weighed on his limbs like heavy iron. Herobrine rested an arm against the bridge wall, silently cursing the weakness of mortal bodies.

“Where…” he huffed, “Where in the village?”

“Underground. Beside the…” Steve noticed something in the distance. He floated forwards until the invisible string between him and his body pulled taut.

“Beside the wh—”

Steve gasped. “We need to go.”

“Halt!”

Several guards rushed through the village gates, brandishing their spears. Their chainmail armor clacked against metal plates. One was on horseback docking an arrow and drawing the bow string. Others were shouting orders to people behind the village walls. On the adjacent watchtowers, guards stood prepared with heavy crossbows.

“Now what’s this all for,” Herobrine remarked.

Steve raised a brow. He recalled when the other had shot a man point blank earlier today, but he stopped himself from commenting anything.

“On the ground, now!” The guards stood firm in a semicircle formation. They had left a wide gap between themselves and their target.

Due to recent disappearances, the village chief pressed for more security on the streets and outer borders. He, at first, encouraged everyone to help with the search effort until even those searching disappeared. Local investigators spent hundreds of hours collecting clues to the missing people’s whereabouts. 

To everyone’s disbelief, their search led to dead ends. The only fact drawn from the investigations was that the perpetrator was no mob, and that they had no preferred victim. The young, middle aged, or elderly. The man or woman. The abled or disabled body. This thing didn’t care. 

Some of the more paranoid residents suspected that this was the work of an undiscovered mob. An undead who drags its victims into its den in the dead of night. Steve wondered if Herobrine was considered a mob.

“On your knees, now!” one of the guards shouted. They’re a few steps closer now. Spearheads all pointed at Steve. “You’re under arrest for attempted murder.”

Steve so desperately wanted to reach for his body again. To call out that it’s not him. That this was the work of an otherworldly being. Though, saying it out loud like that would make him look even more like a maniac.

Herobrine spoke under his breath, “Steve, where did you last sleep?”

“What, why?”

“Isn’t that where you’ll revive?”

No. No, he won’t do that. “Just teleport us out again.”

“Sir! We will not hesitate to use lethal force.”

“That’s my point.” He replied through clenched teeth.  “I teleport. Then you die on landing.” Herobrine tilted up his chin for the other to look.

Steve hadn’t noticed before, but his skin had turned a ghostly white. Colors of arteries and veins faded in and out around his neck and face. He was like a disease stricken victim on their deathbed. Teleporting would undoubtedly kill him.

“I’ve possessed enough humans to know that your kind can’t take dimension-jumping well.”

Some guards whispered among themselves, contemplating whether the man before them was insane.

“Then… eat another apple!”

“That was the last one,” he shrugged.

“That’s impossible.”

Steve’s inventory appeared.

“Your body was starving when it fell unconscious. I replenished it with the only food item you carried.” Herobrine waved a hand over the screen. “See any apples?”

There are none. The miner covered his face and groaned.

The guards had been exchanging words with one another. One among the group nodded to his men and broke off from the formation. He dropped his spear onto the cobblestone ground.

“Sir, hello?” He walked as if approaching a wild animal. “We are just here to ensure everyone’s safety. I ask that you peacefully come with us for questioning, and no harm will come to you.”

A brilliant idea struck Herobrine.

“No, get away from me.” He puts on the face of someone who had seen unimaginable horrors. “I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on.”

Herobrine was going to make sure that the town wouldn’t pose a future problem. He collapsed to his knees and pulled at his hair. An ancient language spilled from his lips giving the illusion of a madman’s rambles.

“What in the,” the guard noticed Steve’s sickly-looking skin. Perhaps fearing whatever illness that the other carried, he stopped approaching.

At the same time, Herobrine lets out a guttural scream that sounds nowhere close to Steve’s own voice. It had an underlying monstrous growl that literally tore through his vocal cords, and droplets of blood spattered on the ground. Everyone’s stomachs felt twisted in that instant. Some of the armored men even took a couple steps back, thoroughly unsettled.

Steve just floated there, mouth agape. 

“Officer, please,” the entity fell on his elbows and crawled until he was at the guard’s feet. He spoke with his true voice, “Something’s wrong with me.”

“What—hey— get back. I said get back!” 

Herobrine gazed upwards until his glowing eyes found the terrorized ones of the guard.

 “Help me.”

Vwoop-

The pain of death barely registered this time. Sparkles tickled under his skin, then nothing. He expected pain to shoot up from his legs, however, it seems like the landing wasn’t what killed him. No Herobrine around now; just himself up there among the stars, sleeping in the vastness of the universe. It was cold, but comfortable. Soon, the fabric of space whirled around him as if he was in the eye of a storm. What seemed like two cosmic hands reached out from the spinning abyss and cradled the unconscious boy. 

“It reads our thoughts,” said one voice.

“It has returned to us once more. This time with new experiences,” said another.

“Yes, the vessel containing its soul was touched by something. I recognized it.”

“I do too. This entity is not malicious.”

“No, it is not.”

“It’s older, much older, than them. Does that make you afraid, Steve?”

“It will learn to distinguish its fears.”

“You will learn who is not your enemy.”

“We are still watching you closely. Your adventures, your dreams…”

“Remember, you have a gift from the universe. To explore itself.”

“To explore the universe.”

“And to do that well.”

“Which it has.”

“And will once more.”

A breeze from nowhere brushed aside Steve’s hair, and the cosmic speakers kissed his head. They lowered his body into the Overworld. Back at home in his bed, he would live another day. And as always, tears that Steve could never explain trickled down his face.

“You could have teleported. What was that whole act for?” The miner was in his basement, rummaging through his chests.

“What’s it all for? Stephen—”

“Steve.”

“—let’s just say that I added another missing person to the list.”

Steve slammed the lid shut, “Gods. You—of course. Now, everyone thinks I’m dead.”

The roles are reversed this time with Steve repossessing his body and Herobrine floating in the back as a ghost. The miner fully expected the other to take control the moment he respawned. But surprisingly, white eyes proposed a compromise.

Steve piloted whilst following Herobrine’s command (something having to do with the unbearable weakness that comes with a mortal host). And if the entity was satisfied, he would stay out of Steve’s skin. Simple. Though disappointed that he’s still being dragged along, Steve had to be glad about the little autonomy he possessed.

“Now, about that portal.” White eyes laid against the basement ceiling as if he was lounging on the ground. “Either try the village again or make one yourself.”

The thought of portal-making annoyed Steve. All that heavy obsidian he must gather and not to mention the hundred cuts endured from handling the block’s jagged surface…it is not a welcoming experience.  

“Explain what you’re after.” Steve demanded. He leaned into another chest, this one labeled ‘precious mineral’. “The first time we spoke, you said that you’ll tell me.”

“I did. Didn’t I?” Herobrine grinned. “Are you aware of the occult?”

“Only a few.”

“Then, you must not know of this one, because it’s simply called ‘The Second Order’. I’ve known them for centuries.”

Out of a chest, Steve lifted a single gleaming sword. Its center had sky-blue undertones, and it emitted soft violet light.

Herobrine continued, “To call the Order a bunch of fanatics is a bit of an understatement. Their beliefs— obsessions more like— all surround me. At least, this glorious image of me they’ve concocted.” He lets out an empty laugh. “I’m a god to them, Steve. Some fools saw me and made a religion.”

Steve was testing the weight of the sword, twirling it between his hands. He asked, “You don’t think that you’re a god? You’ve called me a ‘mortal’ before.”

“If ‘god’ is the closest thing to what I really am, then call me that anytime you like.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“What does this Order want?”

Herobrine sat upright, well, upside down, on the ceiling. He recalled the number of times someone from the Order confessed their ideology.

Yes, “confessed”. They were secretive even towards their own “god”.

“It's the classic New World ideology. Like when one must raze a forest to destroy weeds and old growths to let a new forest take over. The Order believes that everything existing now is that old growth, and it should be burned away for the next generation. But, rather than fire, they want to use me.”

Steve thought back to their first conversation. “Because you get violent tendencies, err, ‘corrupted’ in the Overworld?”

“Exactly. Even if I wanted to burn mortals to a crisp, doing so leads to my inevitable downfall. Thus, my physical body cannot leave the Nether.” He lays back down. “Not for long at least.”

The miner placed the enchanted sword in an inventory slot. “And what has been your way of dealing with them?”

There was a delay in Herobrine’s answer.

“I ate them. At least, after killing them.”

Spoken like it was nothing. A slight nausea overcame Steve who was made well aware of who he was dealing with. A supernatural, eldritch, whatever-you-want-to call-it thing that looked so human but really wasn’t. And the fact that Herobrine’s human form resembled Steve himself was, well, that that was a question for another day. For now, the young man was struck speechless by what white-eyes had just said.
This guy was a fucking cannibal. Gods, was Herobrine going to… consume… using Steve’s body?

Herobrine seemed to read his thoughts, “Don’t think of it like that. Cannibalism only applies if I was human.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Steve muttered. “Saying that you kill them would’ve been enough.”

Herobrine’s expression turned cold. “Do you want to know how persistent this Order is? Every attempt to summon me, every attempt since their inception, failed miserably. They were like flies that, no matter how hard I swatted, never went away. A constant buzzing that drove me mad.” The entity rubbed his wrist, recalling the chains that bounded him. “And until a decade ago, they somehow held me for one whole day.”

There still lied a hint of disbelief. “One. Whole. Day. They found a spell, the kind that’s long been forgotten to me, and deciphered it. I’m not sure how long those bastards took, but they found success.”

Herobrine watched Steve sort through dusty potions; thick glass clinked against each other.

“Try to imagine my honest reaction when humans could trap me like an animal.”

Steve was turning to inspect chests on the other side of the room when Herobrine teleported right in his face. The miner caught his breath and took some steps back.

“Like a hunted animal,” he growled, “So I thought to myself. Why not treat them the same?”

Chapter Text

Stars speckled the night sky. Below, gentle winds brushed past fields of grass and shook the dark silhouettes of trees. The last daytime creatures huddled together in sleep as hostile mobs lurked in the darkness. Nests of spiders crawled out from pits in the dirt. A skeleton carried around its ancient bow and splintered arrows. The rotten zombies stood idle but occasionally wandered into one another. Their jaws hung loose with few teeth left. Puffs of purple particles followed the trail of an enderman who had no destination in mind. It eventually stopped, however, and dug its clawed hands into the ground, scooping up dirt topped with a poppy.

Night was no place for humans. Windows of the town went dark as residents blew out the last few candle lights. Doors locked. Curtains pulled together. And sentries lounged around as they began their graveyard shifts. Some used wooden crates as stools and tables for listless chattering and card games. Others leaned onto their spears; heads hung over asleep.

Had they been more vigilant, they might have caught glimpses of something passing through the stone streets. A set of soft footprints cutting straight through the plaza and making sharp angles around corners and houses. It avoided tracks of dirt left by wagons and the pens of livestock. Each step spaced far enough to tell that they were in a hurry.

The trail led to the front stairway of a church, quaint for a town this size. Going around the building was the bell tower, containing the obvious yellow bell but also the not-so-obvious spiral staircase that went down and down. Torches spiraled down as well and extended into a double-room chamber.

The footprints don't seem interested in whatever the first room had to offer. They walked past things like armor stands, an open chest of golden nuggets, and a long table that laid out weapons and mining equipment. For in the next room was something much more valuable; he saw it from the entrance. 

The clicking of Steve’s soles stopped a little away from the glossy obsidian portal. It loomed over him, almost touching the ceiling. Steve guessed the builder must have miscalculated the minimum height requirement for such a structure. But it's nevertheless functional.

Herorbrine spoke, “And in 3, 2, 1…”

Invisibility’s gray swirls finally let up, and Steve’s form popped into view. He was still staring at the inactive portal. On the other hand, Herobrine hovered beside him, staring expectantly at his host. He looked at the portal then back at Steve who’s still unmoving.

He lets two long seconds elapse.

“Steve. You do know that a fire is required to activate these things? It cannot read your mind and appear like that.”

The younger man pinched his nose bridge. 

“Stop, just, be quiet.”

Herobrine barked a laugh.

Steve’s inventory was filled with everything he deemed useful on this journey. However, a flint and steel were sorely needed right now.

He groaned, “Whatever, I’ll just find something from the other room.”

“No time.”

Steve hadn’t even made a full turn before a heavy force shoved him forward; he gasped as air escaped from his lungs. The young man stumbled and caught himself at the base of the portal.

What was that? He wanted to ask, but his answer came from behind.

“Allow me a moment,” waved Herobrine.

The two had switched places again; he was the ghost now. What bothered Steve was how rough the transition was. It felt very much like a ‘It’s my turn’ shove.

Herobrine walked up to the portal and carefully placed a hand on the smoothest part of its inner wall. Mostly curious about how a mortal body might react, the entity concentrated his will. Despite the number of hosts he’s possessed in the past,  Herobrine was uncertain if this would work since he never had a chance to use it. Because to humans, most of his powers were harmful.

The cold obsidian felt warmer, as heat began collecting in the tips of Steve’s fingers. The longer Herobrine held on the more uncomfortable the heat became. Soon, it felt like touching a magma block.

The entity gritted his teeth but was confident that this could work.

Steve closely watched the other’s expression. Then, he understood. But just when he wanted to speak up, flames burst from Herobrine’s palm, enveloping his whole hand.

The gateway simultaneously lights up, bathing the room in a purple hue. The fire died out just a second later, and Herobrine, cursing in pain, dove into the portal without another word.

The soul sand valley reeked of death. The winds never let up, and they sometimes howled and screeched with anger and loneliness. Their echoes dispersed into the blue atmosphere, and as you wandered about, hollow bones and basalt towers emerged from the suffocating fog. Unlike the rest of the Nether, its valleys were ladened with a coldness that claws that the skin.

Because the portal was used by the town and its people, they had constructed a small stone fort over the portal. It was a single room containing chests, crafting tables, anvils and whatever necessities for venturing in the Nether. Rather than glass, the windows were made of iron bars, making this place awfully reminiscent of a jail cell.

At the foot of the portal, Steve had collapsed onto the cold floor. His body was curled over his right arm which was covered in second degree burns. The pain pulsed with every heartbeat. 

That god damned entity must have expected this to happen and left the moment they crossed the portal. Steve was going to lose his mind if every possession ended with his death or suffering. The thought of it… the thought of it should terrify him. It should terrify any ordinary person. He wanted to believe so badly that escaping from an eldritch entity was everything he wanted right now. The portal back to the Overworld was right beside him. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run. Run back home.

Home. When was the last time he wanted to go back home?

Why are you so far from home? 

Is he running from something?

Hiding from something?

Steve heard them so clearly, the voices that spoke when he accidentally touched Herobrine’s “soul”. He hated how they nagged the truth.

The miner managed to sit up, careful to keep that injured arm still. 

A potion of instant health appeared in his other hand, and Steve pulled off the cork with his teeth. He watched the red liquid sloshed around and hesitantly hovered the bottle over his burnt arm. 

Steve held his breath and poured.

He was back. Back in his own skin and it never felt better. 

In a bluish-green forest of warped fungi, under a shroomlight lit “tree”, was Herobrine stretching and shaking off flakes of fungi from his hair. He had felt so confined in a mortal’s body.

Bits of blue dropped and blended into the nylium covered ground. Patches of gnarled roots stuck up like tripping hazards. Bioluminescence mushrooms grew in irregular circles. It’s difficult, if not impossible, to see more than a few blocks ahead due to the sheer density of the fungi trees.

As white eyes picked off the last bits of debris from his hair, a humanoid silhouette pushed through a wall of twisted vines from behind. Its hands, dangling past its knees, and feet were like those of a wild beast. Pure black, almost scale-like, skin was stretched over its bony frame. And its tall slender form rendered it cramped in these parts of the forest. 

The enderman stood slightly hunched. Looking down at Herobrine, its jaw unhinged and “spoke” a distorted sound.

Herobrine huffed, “Gods, did it have to be in a valley? The souls of the damned there hate me.”

The enderman chirped in agreement.

“Did you perhaps see a human nearby? His appearance is very much like mine.”

Taking a moment to think, the mob held out a clawed hand, and Herobrine took it.

With the mob in lead, they teleported to a cliff overlooking an ocean of lava. The enderman pointed in the general direction of what it had seen.

“I see, thank you.” The entirety of this conversation actually happened in the mess of noises that endermen make.

Imagining the nearest soul sand valley, Herobrine teleported himself towards what was hopefully Steve’s location. As it should, the trip took no effort. He wasn’t afflicted with soreness and exhaustion like he had in his host.

Herobrine landed himself on some thick skeletal remains that littered the valley. Definitely not by coincidence, the valley, or rather, the sands felt his presence, and imprints of faces belonging to wailing souls appeared on the ground. The winds picked up, and billows of dust swept into the air, carrying along chilling screams and whispers direct at Herobrine.

Though agitated, the entity tuned them out, having learned from past experiences to never say a word.

When he doesn’t see the stone fort the enderman had mentioned, Herobrine would teleport again and scout several blocks ahead. He never touched the sand, however, always landing on anything else like gravel or basalt.

During his search, white eye’s mind wandered to Steve. The young man was, how should he put it, wary. Given his current situation, Steve couldn’t be blamed for being so reserved, yet Herobrine couldn’t help but think that the miner is always like this.

He asked for directions from a ghast. It just cried.

Steve was alert, maybe even too alert, during their interactions in the Overworld cave. Not only had he deduced that the stranger in the cave was a threat, but the miner’s first course of action was to point a sword at him. Herobrine had expected an exchange of words before Steve settled on that; he imagined if that had been some regular human.

Herobrine attempted at directions from another ghast; a request laced with threat this time. The mob trembled like a strider out of lava but managed to whimper a reply.

Also, the voices. Well, his voices, must have said something particularly damning to get Steve all shaken up. He would look inside his “soul” and ask them himself, but… it’s difficult to be heard over a crowd of hundreds.

“It will be interesting to ask him myself,” Herobrine said to no one.

Around the thirtieth teleportation, Herobrine somehow landed on top of the stone fort. He quietly congratulated himself.

Considering knocking on the iron door, the entity opted to brute force. With the hinges already rusted through the years, a solid kick at its center sent the door crashing into the opposite wall. It even shattered the portal’s gateway along the way.

Steve was in the middle of quietly looting the chests and could’ve sworn that his heart died after hearing that crash.

White eyes peeked in, a look of surprise apparent on his face.

“You know you could have gone back through the portal.”

The other was quick to reply, “And you could have found me as easily as last time. So why bother to run?”

Herobrine eyed the now no longer burnt arm. It was bandaged, but he made out patches of red tightened skin along Steve’s fingertips.

“Did the fire hurt?” He asked out of curiosity rather than concern.

“Yes.” Steve slammed one of the chests close. “Did it for you?”

A snide comment that bounced off the other person. The overwhelming unease from seeing Herobrine in the flesh was not enough to hide Steve’s disdain. Just between them, casual conversation is nonexistent.

“Hm. If you are all ready, then know that we’re leaving for the Realm of Swarm.”

Steve never expected to hear that name again. “Swarm?”

“I have strong suspicions that we’ll find some leaders of the Second Order there.” Herobrine crossed his arms. “From your reaction, I assume you are familiar with that place. I know you’re not from here.”

The ‘Realm of Swarm’. Steve’s expression was plain annoyance. It wasn’t a place that he wanted to revisit. The idea of that vibrant world and its—erm— focus on recreations used to be something Steve looked forward to. 

“I guess telling you what I know would make this arrangement between us easier?” 

At Herobrine’s nod, he continued.

“Then before I moved here, I made a living in the Swarm. Temporary living, but I had connections there. I think—no—I’m sure that there are people there who still remember me.”

“Who?”

“Somes colleagues and enemies probably.”

“Enemies?” Herobrine’s eyes lit up at that last part.

“Enemies only in a professional sense, but they tend to invade my personal life as well. Just think of it like rivalry.” Steve swore that they prayed for his downfall on the daily. “It’s best not to attract their attention.”

“You say that like you’re a well-known figure. Like some kind of celebrity.”

He wished he wasn’t. Steve was pretty sure that a plaque with his face was hanging in some hall of fame.

“I’m well-known enough to have stalkers.”

Herobrine thought back to the fanatic behaviors of the cult and chuckled, “By the gods, we do have something in common.” 

“Aside from our appearances?”

The entity looked elsewhere, pretending as if he did not hear.

On the dreary night that Steve retired from his old life, he remembered running his hands over the mechanical keys of a machine that could open passages to other Realms. Unless there’s another machine of similar capabilities waiting for you on the other side, any way of returning was essentially none. But for Steve, that was exactly what he wanted.

The enormous redstone contraption had a built-in screen that displayed a jumble of letters, numbers, and symbols. No Realm had been registered under this mess of code. With the pull of a lever, the clicks and hisses of machinery brought the golden gateway to life. A worn-out Steve, with nowhere else to go, stepped into the swirling white portal. And before the transportation could complete, he threw a redstone torch into a nearby stack of TNT; he was gone by the first explosion.

And that jumble of redstone  code took Steve to an Outer Realm where he’ll spend the next years trying to outgrow the memories of his old life.

It took some insistence–and force–from Herobrine to get Steve into another teleportation. The latter had even backed himself against the wall, grumbling that he would just get to the nether fortress by foot.

Herobrine sighed, “I’m not going to wait for you to walk a hundred thousand blocks.”

“I don’t care. I’ve had enough of teleporting since we’ve met, and you killed me on the last one!”

“You respawned.” He said, too matter of fact for Steve’s taste.

The miner glared at Herobrine, and spoke through clenched teeth. “That’s not what I meant.”

There was a tense moment of silent exchange. Purple eyes locked with white.

The entity had gotten tired of the soul sand valley’s depressing atmosphere; even through the stone walls he can hear the souls crying about. He wasn’t going to stand around for another minute in this place. 

So far too quickly, Herobrine dashed forward. His hand made contact with Steve’s shoulder. Before Steve could pull away, they disappeared in a puff of purple particles.

Once the nausea subsided, Steve could finally stand straight. He had been leaning over the sides of the fortress’s walkways with an incredible urge to vomit. Many blocks below was a lake of bright bubbling lava.

Steve wiped his mouth on his bandaged arm and muttered, “Fuck you.”

“You're welcome.”

They had teleported right at the entranceway of a tower. Herobrine leaned against its wall, keenly aware of the hostile mobs looming within sight.

He was staring down a gang of wither skeletons on the adjacent walkway, giving them the don’t even think about it look. The wither skeletons, also aware of Herobrine, kept their eye sockets on Steve anyway.

“Erm, do those things listen to you?” Steve didn’t like angry clicks of their blackened bones.

“Yes, but with you in their territory,” Herobrine drew a line across his neck, “they’re far from happy. They’re also the most stubborn mobs I’ve ever interacted with.”

Steve can tell. One of the skeletons had its foot planted on the brick barrier, threatening to jump over and end him. It seemed like it didn't have much fear for white eyes.

The miner backed away until he was closer to the tower. “So why did you bring me here?”

“Well, considering where we’re going. I believe you should prepare yourself, more than you already have at least.” Herobrine teleported into the tower and back in an instant. “Here.”

He opened his palm before Steve and the hilt of a sword appeared in his grasp. A netherite broadsword. Steve had to make an effort not to gawk. He couldn’t remember the last time he wielded one.

The miner took a step back as Herobrine prepared a test swing. The blade was much broader at its base and tapered to a point. It had a gray to black gradient going from its point to the hilt. Speaking of the hilt, Steve couldn’t help but admire the cross guard and pommel. They were black and etched with a swirly design that he could only describe as ancient. 

“Stand back.” Herobrine held the sword over his shoulder and slashed. 

Like striking together flint and steel, the sword lets off sparks as it cuts through the air.

“Wow…” Regular fire aspect can’t do that.

“Yes, yes. Impressive. Though its only use has been collecting dust.” Herobrine turned the sword upside down and traced his thumb over the pommel. “I don’t even remember the enchantments on here, though I’m sure you’ll figure them out in time.”

He handed it to Steve who grabbed it almost too eagerly. Their hands briefly touched, and the miner noted how warm the entity’s skin was (and they were in the Nether!).

Herobrine grinned. “Not even a thank you?”

“Uh. Yeah, yeah.” Steve had his attention on the sword. “Wait, what are you asking for in return?”

“This was just something to prepare you for what’s ahead, but I suppose you can consider it a ‘gift’.” Besides, what can a human offer him anyway?

“Hm.” Steve tucked the precious item away in an inventory slot.

“Still no ‘thank you’?”

Steve groaned.

Chapter Text

The Netherite sword was quite unstable. Even in his inventory, fiery sparks flew off the blade.

“So about getting to the other Realm. I’m guessing that you don’t need a portal to do that?”

This was Herobrine he’s talking to. Why would he?

“We’re leaving right now.” 

Steve noticed the other raising his hand as if ready to snap his fingers. Then, he hesitated and turned to the human. 

“Did you hear that?”

“What?”

A moment of silence.

“That. Just now.”

“I—I don’t hear anything.” Nothing was amiss to Steve. There’s just the ambiance of the Nether like the bubbling of lava.

“So you didn’t...” 

What white eyes had just heard, only audible to him apparently, was the sound of a goat’s horn. It came from the Overworld, and he knew what it meant.

The air around Herobrine seemed to crack with sparks of white electricity, and a bright circle of light lit below him. His muscles seized. For maybe a split second, he disappeared and reappeared from reality, his form flickering like a dying light bulb. 

Steve immediately stepped back. Was this just another one of his powers? But, it didn’t look like normal teleportation; this was messy.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

Herobrine could barely form a sentence, "Not… me.”

There was that feeling again as his mind detached. A tightness wrapped around his lungs, and each breath became shallower and shallower. He could hear muffled chanting that’s awfully reminiscent of a cult. Everything—the fortress, the Nether, Steve— was getting cloudy.

“Herobrine?” 

They’re pulling again. Every time he disappeared, Herobrine’s view flashed between the netherrack ceiling and blue Overworld sky. He began to sway.

“Hey!” Having an idea of what’s happening, Steve reached out.

The electric sparks didn't seem to affect him, so he grabbed the entity and shook.

He urged, “Hey, you said we were leaving.”

The Herobrine blinked. So dizzy, and all he could see was a mess of blinding colors. Steve’s hands momentarily phased through his shoulders.

“Swarm!” He shouted. "Take us to the Realm of Swarm before they do!”

A couple hundred years ago.

Herobrine stood atop a mesa cliff. The air was distorted by the blistering sun. 

He disappeared then reappeared hundreds of feet deep on the ocean floor. Everything was blue. Before him loomed the enormous ocean monuments flanked by its guardians. They didn’t get a chance to attack as he teleported once more.

“Humans.” Herobrine had landed on the beach of a coastal village.

Gray clouds and squawking seagulls flew overhead. Long fishing boats were tied to wooden piers; their sails tied away on a horizontal beam. A crude stone path connected the beach to huts and houses further inland.

There were some humans with baskets in hand walking down the path. They noticed the stranger on the beach and whispered amongst themselves.

They nervously waved.

Herobrine waved back, and it seemed to ease them.

He would spend the next couple of days just wandering around the village. Speaking to them, observing them, and asking things that no normal person would ask. 

Why do you burn the meat?

To cook them of course! How else would someone eat it?

What are you doing?

Sewing clothes for the little ones.

What’s that for? 

These? Weapons to fend off any horrid creatures.

The villagers didn’t know who this visitor was, but they quickly noticed a change in the land. For ever since his arrival, not a single hostile mob approached their homes.

It was peaceful.

Oneday, the entity sat watching an elderly woman weave a brightly colored fabric. The clicks and clacks of the wooden loom were addicting to hear.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“The Overworld.”

She chuckled to herself, “Ah, keeping yourself mysterious I see. Then, what do you think about our village?”

“It’s like many others I’ve seen. There’s many hu–people– here. I think I like it.”

“Good, good.” She continued her work on the fabric.

The longer he watched the… hazier everything got? He tried to blink it away, but the haze kept returning.

Herobrine vaguely heard the woman asking if he’s okay. He pressed his palms onto his eyes, so everything became dark for just a moment.

“I am fine,” he replied. “I think something fell into my–” he opened his “ –eyes.”

Herobrine found himself standing over the loom machine now shattered on the ground. Splotches of red stained the unfinished fabric. 

Where’s the human he had just been talking to?

She laid prone on the ground. Her body would seize every so often and a puddle of blood flowed from her head.

He reached down, only to realize that the tips of his fingers were also red.

Behind him, a villager walked into the scene and screamed.

…

…

The weapons used to fend off horrid creatures were pointed at him. He tried to explain, but in the end, it really was he who killed her.  

…

…

A bearded man suddenly leapt from the fearful crowd, iron ax in hand. 

He was her son. 

Herobrine quickly willed himself to teleport before the ax could come crashing down.

…

…

He safely landed on the beach. But it’s strange. When did it turn to night?

He turned and saw the village lit in flames. Wind from the sea fed the fire and carried the black smoke higher and higher.

Among the screams and shout of humans, Herobrine also heard the sound of mobs. He took a step forward, but then heard creaking from the piers. 

Piled into the boats were villagers who had tried to escape.  All bled out from their mouths and eyes. The few boats that did make it out to sea, well… none could utter a word. 

“I… I don’t…” It was getting hazy again. His mind was being pulled farther into the depths of his unconscious. 

Before all becomes dark and numb. Herobrine whispered a command for all the mobs to flee the village. 

Please, let there be something to salvage.  

It’s currently night in the Realm of Swarm, and not just any night. Tonight marks the start of the Swarm Games, a series of sporting events that pretty much power this Realm’s economy. A whole month when tens of thousands would swarm the Hive City, eager to watch the Games or participate in it themselves. An event of this caliber required an equally impressive opening to, of course, attract even more visitors. So, for three days, on a flat piece of land east of city perimeters, is exactly what one expects.

Market stalls, games, enough food to end world hunger, and bonfires. So, so many bonfires. Herobrine can see the lights and smoke all the way from where they landed which was a grassy area slightly farther from city limits. It was fortunate that the two hadn’t landed smack in the middle of the busy city or the Festival. The only access to this realm was in Hive city, so showing up out of nowhere would certainly turn some heads.

“I think… I think they’re hosting the Festival of Champions right n— oh god.”

Steve gagged before hurling into a nearby bush. The young man would rather not describe what jumping Realms without a portal felt like. 

The other wasn’t doing any better. Herobrine had sat on the ground trying to shake away the headache from that summoning. His eyes were shut as he rubbed his temples; the previous summoning hadn’t even been a week ago yet that just happened.

The entity laughed to himself, “Ha, they’re getting good.”

“Are you okay? Was that how they’ve been taking you from the Nether?”

The entity faced Steve with narrowed eyes, “Thank you for the concern. But, in all honesty, I would be more ‘ok’ if we weren't in the Overworld,” he got up with a grunt, “ at least I know where the nearest portal is.”

In the Hive, a massive portal built into a grand marble frame: that’s what he remembered. The city itself was within view, so a quick teleport wouldn’t be—

“Wait!” Steve interrupted. “Can you not go just yet? I have to at least get somewhere safe.”

Safe? Right, Herobrine could sense the presence of a number of hostile mobs. The only reason that the creatures were staying out of sight was because, well, he’s not in a good mood.

Herobrine released an exhausted sigh.

“Fine. Let’s go.” 

“We’re walking?”

“Yes, now not another word.”

No more teleporting? Steve quietly celebrated.

When was the last time that Steve had walked so peacefully in the dead of night? The full moon was his only light source and the reason why he wasn’t tripping over every little bump. The chirps of crickets and rusting of trees brought a sense of calmness. The hopeful light of civilization rested in the distance, and not a single zombie or skeleton in sight.

As they approached close enough to hear the Festival’s lively sounds, Steve had the urge to break the silence. He couldn't stop thinking about that “summoning”, or why he had reached out to Herobrine so easily.  Steve himself hadn’t even seen the Second Order in person before or experienced how dangerous this group was. All he knew was as much as what Herobrine told him. 

Perhaps, the entity of chaos just looked so helpless during the summoning that Steve felt empathy? Heavy silence sat between the two men which told Steve that now wasn’t a good time to talk about it. Some other time then.

Herobrine was currently walking ahead of him, so Steve sped up until they’re side-by-side. He felt that he should clear the air. 

“So, can you talk to all the mobs?” It was a genuine question.

Herobrine’s mouth twitched, “I told you to be quiet.”

“Oh,” Steve started to fall back but whispered, “I guessed yes.”

Herobrine needed to concentrate. Because, now that he’s in the Overworld, he had to be particularly focused on his mental state and any distractions could turn things for the worse.

Though why did the human’s simple question bother him? Because, no, there's many mobs that he couldn’t communicate with. 

The number of man-made stories about the “legendary Herobrine” had its truths and errors. And Herobrine felt very strongly about the errors. Like how do mortals come up with the idea that he was “birthed” by the ender dragon? Or, that the Wither’s heads are the skulls of deceased brothers–wait.

Perhaps that one is understandable.

His expression softened.

“Not the cows.”

Steve perked up. “The cows?”

“Nor the sheeps, chickens, or your typical passive animal.”

Herobrine heard grass crunching under Steve's boot as he tried to catch up again.

“What about slimes?”

“No. Slimes are perhaps the most mindless beings in existence.” 

Steve pondered for a second, “Golems?”

“They listen to the village that they protect and only the village.” Herobrine recalled his last encounter with one which ended in a hard concussion. “They’re capable of listening to me, but choose not to.”

“Why?”

“Just ensuring the villagers’ safety.” The entity shrugged. “My presence isn’t the most welcoming.”

“I see. Can you… fly?”

“Can I–” Herobrine coughed a laugh, “Fly? Was that what you said? Gods, you mortals still believe that?

Steve’s ears flushed red. “Don’t all the legends say that?”

“It must’ve been a phantom. Listen to those legends, and you might as well believe in another ‘herobrine’. ” He furrowed his brows. “What other stories do you know about me?”

It didn’t take long for Steve to think of one.

“They say that when you're nearby, all mobs, even the peaceful ones, go into a frenzy. Like full on attacking humans, kind of crazy.”

“Go on.”

“Some say you only show up at night. Others say in the day. But, they all say that you stalk humans.”

“Still do,” Herobrine remarked.

The Festival was fastly approaching, and it shone in the night with a golden glow. Steve could make out the bustling walkways and the lights hung overhead. Squeezed together and selling a myriad of trinkets and foods were vendors and their stalls.

Periodically you would spot flapping banners strung around fiery lampposts. They were embroidered with the symbols of the Games and stylized faces of famous contenders past and present.

The air was alive with laughter, chatter, and music. Everyone’s hands were either occupied by prizes, fried food, or yellow sparklers.

Herobrine stopped walking, but his gaze was still set on the Festival.

“I must go. You can take it from here.” 

“Shouldn’t you tell me what I’m supposed to do here?” 

“I’ll tell you once I’m back in the Nether, but for now, why not enjoy the festivities? Get something to fill our stomachs.”

Steve cringed. “Just my stomach.”

“Sure.” With a wave of goodbye, Herobrine teleported out of sight.

He hoped that enough time had passed for his, erm, name to have fallen out of relevancy. Public figures come and go all the time within the span of months, so certainly a few years would be long enough for people to forget about him.

Like Steve would take that chance.

Donning a hooded cloak he brought along, Steve sped his way through the labyrinth of lights and people. He was too concerned with attracting attention; the sights and sounds of the lively atmosphere swept past him. He doesn’t even have a destination in mind. 

A breeze carried the smell of—

“Firecrackers!” A young boy pointed to his father. “Can we pleeeaaaaase get firecrackers? Please, please, please, ple—.”

The father relented. This was a special day afterall. He points to the smallest pouch of crackers that was tied up on rope along with several other netted pouches. Children could only tolerate so much heat after all.

“Three, please.” Not Steve, of course.

The vendor happily made the transaction.

Deeper into the festival stood a massive pavilion under which picnics tables and side benches lined in neat rows. There were the jolly drunkards, laughing teens, and, in a family friendly section, children along with their parents. 

Steve opted for a bench on the edge of the pavilion. There he satiated his hunger with overly seasoned crackers, flicking off pieces of red chili flakes that stuck under his nails.

“Got one for me?”

The younger man jumped in his seat, and his hand crumbled a cracker into dust.

“No,” Steve coughed, “Wait, do you even need to eat?”

Herobrine, in his ghostly form, lounged beside him with a content smile. 

“I eat for enjoyment.” 

Oh, gods. Steve suddenly remembered him eating the cultists.

The two observed a table of grown men playing some sort of beer game.

“Why are we here?” asked Steve. “I mean like here in the Festival. Unless you think there’s some ‘cult’ activities here, we could’ve gone into the city instead.”

One of the men downs a mug in one swing. The frothy beverage spilled over his face.

Herobrine chuckled. “I haven’t visited Swarm for quite some time. So, let me indulge in human revelries before we go hunting down the Second Order.”

“Fine.” Steve untied the last pack of firecrackers. “But what after? How do you plan on finding them?”

The other sighed. “We go into the city, of course. It won’t take us long to find their members, since they’re quite a vocal group. Both a menace to me and other humans so I’ve heard.”

“Alright.”

Steve noticed that Herobrine was staring at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Are you not sharing those?”

And they switched. Steve found himself floating behind the bench.

“Why would you–can’t you warn me when you do that?!”

His own body turned around and gave a smile. “I suppose it is the polite thing to do for my host.” Herobrine bit into a cracker.

The two had been sitting here for a while now. With the entity in control, Steve’s physical eyes would grow cloudy. He expected Herobrine to get up and do something , but it seemed that he was content with people watching. 

Just like the myths . Steve thought.

“Are you looking for someone?”

Herobrine shook his head. “No. However, someone is looking at us.”

“What?” Steve straightened up and quickly searched his surroundings. “How do you know that? Where are they?” Does someone recognize him?

“It’s either just a feeling or…” Herobrine pushed off the bench and dusted his hands, “it’s that this woman has been staring at me for the past 10 minutes.”

“Who? Be more specific.”

“Green shirt to our left.”

Herobrine strolled through the aisle of tables until he stopped at where the stranger sat. Like Steve, she was also wearing a hood though it was red. Her head was turned away, obviously trying to look elsewhere now that the subject of interest is hovering right over her.

Steve glanced over to Herobrine whose expression was unreadable. The entity tilted his head, as if trying to remember a far off memory.

His voice was low. “Where have I seen you?”

The woman suddenly got up from the table. “Erm, sorry, I must’ve been zoning out. Didn’t mean to stare. You, uh, enjoy the festival.” She quickly left the pavilion and disappeared into the crowd.

The sounds of the joyous festival were drowned. Herobrine stood with his arms crossed, still trying to recall where he had seen this woman before. On the other hand, Steve knew exactly who she was. The moment she spoke, memories of a friend came creeping back.

“Alex.” Of the millions in this Realm, he had to run into her.

“You recognized that person?”

“I–yes.” Should they go after her? He hasn’t seen Alex in years, and their last interactions happened in some other Realm.

The decision was made for Steve as Herobrine rushed towards the direction where the woman had gone. This was very, very interesting. A person that the human knew and that the entity could barely remember. 

They must find her.

The narrow walkway was full of human obstacles and surrounded by a wall of tents and stalls. Herobrine swiftly maneuvered through the crowds and just barely brushed by oblivious attendees. At one point, he was pressed so close to a vendor that he quietly snagged a roasted kebab from the grill. It’s good everyone was invested in the celebratory foods and games, because he just also tripped past a child. 

It's hard to tell where they’re going, but that’s where Steve came in. The human floated a few meters overhead, and up there he had a clearer view of the surroundings.

“Keep going, the bonfire is up ahead and I–I think I see her.” 

Herobrine nodded and quickened his pace. 

This was a wide circular zone in the midst of the festival, and a tower of flames burned at the center. Everyone here just relaxed on the grass, bathed by the fire’s yellow glow.

A flash of red cloth caught Steve’s eye.

“There!” He pointed. “She’s right around the fire.”

Surprisingly, Herobrine doesn’t break out into a full sprint. Instead, he began to circle along the edge of this area as if stalking a target.

“I see her.”

The woman still had her red hood on; its cape stopped just past her knees. She’s scribbling down something in a book. 

I should talk to her. Steve thought. He wondered if she ever tried looking for him after his disappearance. Does she think he’s dead? That was the whole point of disappearing. Actually, does she even know what he had done? He then wondered if he should apologize.

“Give me control. I… think I should talk to her.” Steve hated how uneasy this felt.

Herobrine had stopped walking by now.

“No.”

“But, I know her. Just let me go up and–”

Herobrine shook his head. “Ever considered that she left because she saw your face? She might just run again.” He pulled down their hood. Warm air from the bonfire brushed Steve’s hair. “Now, watch.”

Whatever the woman was writing down she had finished. The book and quill disappeared into her inventory. She lifted her head toward where she had come from, as if making sure a certain someone hadn’t followed. 

Herobrine grinned as he noticed her shoulders relax.

The woman turned away from the bonfire and–

Flinched.

He’s standing right there. Just a few meters away.

She ran in the opposite direction.

Herobrine shot an ‘I told you so’ look to Steve.

“Okay, fine. But go after her!”

Herobrine raised his arm. Clenched in his hand was an ender pearl that had manifested from Steve’s inventory. Without another word, he flung the pearl at a blinding speed over the heads of bystanders. It shattered on the back of her cape.

“Why the HELL did you–” Steve doesn’t finish his sentence.

Instantly, Herobrine slammed into the woman with the same speed at which the pearl flew. Her body practically smacked into the ground, sending some dirt flying. A few people who noticed gasped at the sight. 

Herobrine easily recovered and stood where Alex lay face down, dazed.

He feigned surprise.

“Sorry, miss, I must’ve been zoning out. Didn’t see where I was walking.”

Alex could only groan in pain.

“Here, let me help you up.”

Steve watched Herobrine’s hand come into contact with Alex’s back. He should’ve expected what happened next.

They sat in silence on a park bench. Not another person in sight.

The teleportation once again took its toll on Steve’s body. His lungs heaved for air, and the pounding of his pulse could be heard in his ears. His arms laid limp with black veins just starting to fade away.

“A–Alex? Are you,” he winced, “are–are you okay?”

Unlike Steve, all she felt was the usual lightheadedness from using an enderpearl, not the powers of an otherworldly entity.

“Yes… Steve.” Alex rubbed her forehead.

She muttered something under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Where did you go?” She sounded numb. “All these years you must’ve been somewhere. So which is it?”

“I—”

“No, let me guess. Was it the Realm of Sky?”

“…no.”

“Elyphix?”

Steve weakly shook his head.

“Origins? Dune? What about the Aether?” Her voice got louder. “Were you in any of the Inner Realms?”

Her hands were clenched into tight fists. 

Steve didn’t want to meet her eyes.

“Say something!”

“I went to an Outer Realm!” He broke into a coughing fit.

“So what was its name?!”

It didn’t have one.  

Steve stubbornly remained quiet. He manifested a potion of healing and took a long sip.

“You know I looked for you right? When I got word that they reported you missing, I searched everywhere . Even when some thought you died, I still kept looking!” Alex got up from the bench. “I’ve lost count of how many Realms I’ve been to. Of many goddamned gateway catalogs I had to read just to find your name!”

(Author’s note: Gateways mentioned last chapter are redstone portals to other Realms)

Alex sighed. “Fine, you don’t have to tell me where you went. But at least say why.”

The potion allowed Steve to finally feel like he’s not on the brink of collapse.

“It’s complicated.” He puts away the glass bottle. “And, I honestly don’t think I can ever tell you.” 

Alex’s expression was a mix of anger and sadness.

“Why did you come back?”

Another question with an unbelievable answer.

“To see the Games,” he lied.

“And what about all of the other years’ Games? Did you also go then?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Does that matter? All I can say is that I left for personal reasons, and I didn’t intend on coming back.” He glared at Herobrine who’s eavesdropping behind the bench. “But now that I’m here I might as well apologize.”

Alex scoffed. “Stop. Like that matters.”

Although the festival goes all night long, the rest of the city is fast asleep. Here at the park, a single lamppost illuminated the scene.

“Come on.” Alex pulled the red cloak tighter around her shoulders. “We’ll talk more at my place.”

That caught Steve off guard.

“You live in Swarm now?” He got up to follow her.

“Not my permanent residence. I have business to do here.” She pointed to Steve. “And you. Are homeless.”

Steve made an exasperated noise.

Alex continued, “It’s so obvious. You can pay me back by explaining why you’re really here.”

And with half of this month's rent .

Chapter Text

It’s too dark for Steve to see the rest of the city, but it probably wasn’t too different from how he remembered it. Quite a few waterways run through the Hive, all flowing into the pristine lake at the center of the city. The closer to the lake, the more grand the Hive became. There, the towering stone buildings have been polished to whiteness, and only the most affluent residents could afford it.

Alex’s home was nowhere near that place. Here, the rows of homes are tightly pressed against one another, and they’re all built from smooth stone and beams of dark wood. It had an earthly element that reminded Steve of his outer realm. Homes laid on this side of the street, and a wide waterway flowed on the other. 

Alex had her hand on the door handle, but something crossed her mind.

She glanced at Steve. “Wait here for a second. I, uh, want to tidy up the place.”

She quickly stepped in and slammed the door behind her.

Much too curious, Steve leaned towards a nearby window but was disappointed to see that the curtains were drawn.

Herobrine crossed his arms. “Steve, this was a fortunate opportunity. For you, at least.”

“Hm?”

“Were you not going to wander this city as a homeless vagrant? I have the Nether. You have, well, the streets.”

Steve grumbled something beneath his breath. “It's almost like someone dragged me here on a last minute’s notice.”

“For the greater good.”

It’s hard to think about the “greater good” when Steve doesn’t even know exactly who they’re going up against. He saw a summoning being attempted on Herobrine, and he was told—by the entity himself—that being in the Overworld could spell disaster for all the Realms. This is all second-hand stuff that only half-convinced Steve of the dangers of the Second Order.

“The ‘Second’ Order,” he mumbled out loud. “Then, was there ever a ‘First’ Order?” 

That felt like a nonsensical question. However, Herobrine actually looked deep in thought.

“Ah, them. That first group was small enough for me to personally deal with. Though the fact that there is a ‘second’ order meant that I must’ve missed some.”

“Were you also summoned by them?”

“No. Though, they spewed nonsensical stories about me as well.”

No one could ever imagine that a legendary being stood right outside their doorsteps. 

“Damn.” Steve rubbed his face, laughing in disbelief. 

What the hell am I even doing? He just wanted out of this Realm as soon as he could. Hopefully, Alex would be the only familiar face Steve encounters here.

The door swung open.

“Who are you talking to?” Alex stood there with a raised eyebrow.

“Myself,” Steve effortlessly replied.

She doesn’t question further, and instead invites the other into her abode.

“Hey!” Alex knocked on the closed door of the guest room. “Get out here, Steve. I want answers.”

She heard his muffled voice.

“Fine. Give me a second.”

They had changed into more comfortable clothes, obviously eager to get to bed. But, Alex wouldn't settle on sleeping when her last-declared-dead friend was crashing over at her place. 

In the kitchen, the two sat across from each other. One still very uncomfortable with the whole situation. The other patiently sipped on a cup of steaming tea.

Steve’s eyes darted around the room. Herobrine’s “ghost” was nowhere to be seen, meaning that they were truly alone.

“So… you ran away from me at the festival,” Steve began. “Twice.”

“Just my shock.” Alex stared into her cup. “I wanted to think that my eyes played tricks. That I was seeing ghosts.”

She took another sip. “One second I was on the ground, the next in the city park. So, what? You chucked an ender pearl across a few thousand blocks?”

And so began the lies. “I drank a strength potion.”

Alex made a face, remembering how often Steve used to abuse those magical liquids. He would drink them daily, even for minor inconveniences. Anyone with a shred of knowledge about magic knew the long term stress potions had on the human body. 

But, Steve always brushed her off with a dry laugh. Guess I’m just built different. He used to say.

“All these years no one knew where you went then?”

The young man shook his head.

“So, whatever happened was bad enough for you to drop everything and disappear?”

“Hey, maybe I just felt like living off-grid.”

“Are you even remotely aware of the stress you've caused? I mean, I don’t try to care anymore, but what about the others in your life?”

Steve glared back. “Like who?”

Alex paused, then recalled one name. A father-figure Steve used to speak fondly about.

“Mr. Hawthorne. Ever thought about him at all?”

If Alex had the hearing of a bat, she would notice Steve’s heart rate increasing ten-fold. He wanted to feel anger, sadness, or even nothing at all. But what could mask the overwhelming shame crushing on his shoulders? A shame shoved to the loneliest corner of his mind.

 The young man did what he knew best, which was avoiding it all together. 

“Mr. Hawthorne,” the name sour on his tongue, “ is none of your business. Anyway, why are you in Swarm? Something about business?”

Alex opened her mouth to retort but hesitated. She had a feeling that whatever drove Steve away was better left unsaid. Maybe with enough time, he would tell her.

She sighed, disappointed. “It’s classified work.”

“Good, then we both have something to hide. Goodnight.”

Steve pushed his chair back and left for the guest room down the hall. He slammed the door a little too harshly.

It was noon, and Alex had already left for work. She had left a message for Steve on a small piece of paper.

Steve read it aloud, “Help yourself to the pantry. Also, I’m out of bread (P.S that means you go buy some more).” The address of Alex’s favorite bakery was scribbled right under the message.

Chuckling to himself, Steve tucked the paper into his pocket. Of course Alex would send him on errands already. Back then, whenever he left the Realm of Elyphix to visit her, Alex would make Steve bring supplies—even groceries— from his own realm. Something about it being cheaper.

Before Steve stepped outside, his eyes landed on his cloak that hung on the back of the dining table. He reached for it…

No, no. It’ll be fine.  

Steve may have been well known in his home Realm, but here in Swarm he was more obscure. Though with the Games happening in a few days, things might just change.

Outside, the air was crisp. A breeze blew past the neighborhood; it was a touch of coolness on Steve’s skin. A few residents strolled along the street, some leaned against the railing along the waterway, and others just chatted away on the arched bridge connecting this street to another across the water.

“Where are you going?”

Steve jumped. Herobrine hadn’t shown himself at all last night. His sudden appearance had Steve wishing goodbye to privacy .

“An errand for Alex.” He pulled the paper from his pocket.

Herobrine looked down at the scribbled address, confused. 

“Why are you showing this to me?”

Steve blinked, “Uh, I—never mind.”

“I am not that acquainted with this city.”

“I said nevermind!”

Steve began walking down the street. Public maps, magically imbued, littered the city and could be found at every turn. They acted as a guiding system for hopeless tourists like Steve.

Herobrine spoke over Steve’s shoulder, “If you have difficulty finding this ‘bakery’, I would not mind taking the lead.”

“Wha—no. I already have an idea.” He obviously preferred being the one in control.

Right where another street means this one (forming a T junction) stood a blank wooden board. For something so common in the city, it was adorned with a detailed frame like ones you see around an antique painting. Steve ran up to place his hand on it and started to read off the address.

Herobrine curiously watched.

Glowing, green lines radiated from under Steve’s hand. They creeped about liked vines on a wall, even reaching the frame. At first they laid disorganized, but soon enough, tightened into a grid-like pattern. 

It’s an overview of the city. A “you are here” dot appeared near the edge of the map. Another dot, their destination, appeared some intersections away.

The magical handiwork of humans impressed Herobrine once again. He almost felt guilty about burning the Library of Swarm. Thousands of years of knowledge gone in the blink of an eye. But that was long ago, and it seemed like the humans had no problem catching up.

It doesn’t take long for the roads to be filled with people. In fact, the further Steve traversed into the city, the more nostalgic everything became. People traveled on foot, carriages, and even trolleys.  Indeed, going down the entire length of the street were mechanical trollies created by redstone engineers. Each cart moved across activated rails at a steady pace.

All sorts of businesses lined the street. Wooden signs hung from above their entrances ranging from names of restaurants and stores  to “Monster Medicine” and “Witches Beer”.

Soon, Steve found himself blended with the crowd. Recalling the route, he turned at an intersection.

“Okay, the bakery should be across there.” Steve pointed towards a short bridge ahead of him.

Before the young man could step off the pavement and onto the bridge, he heard from behind—

“Stop!”

His body froze, instantly heeding to Herobrine’s command.

“Do not take another step.” 

Steve’s breathing picked up. “Wh—What’s going on?” He quickly noticed that Herobrine had his gaze focused on something straight ahead.

Without turning his head, he muttered, “I’m taking control.”

Steve—no—Herobrine immediately backed away from the bridge, nearly bumping into a pedestrian who just shot him a look.

“You don’t see that, do you.”

“See what?”

The magic. The trails of dangerous, red magic seeping from between the bridge’s stone blocks. Invisible to the human eye.

“This structure isn’t safe. You cannot sense it, Steve, but someone has cast a dormant spell here. A powerful one.”

Steve’s eyes darted to all the people ahead. “You mean…”

“Those humans might as well be walking on a ground of tnt.”

Herobrine started making his way down the adjacent street where there’s less foot traffic.

“And where are you going?” Steve blurted. “You just said that thing is basically rigged with a bomb!”

“Yes, so we look for a different route. Rather you not die now.”

Steve was flabbergasted. “So we let those poor folks die? You sensed the magic. Can’t you, I don’t know, get rid of the spell?”

“Why should I? Last I checked, we’re running an errand.”

So this is how it’s going to be . Thought Steve. 

“No, I was running an errand until you told me people’s lives are in danger.”

“Then am I responsible for human lives?” Herobrine came to a stop. “You speak as if I was the one who cast the spell when it’s likely some maniac in this city.”

Neither person cared about the weird stares from passing bystanders.

“You don’t care about us humans, I get that, but let me help them!”

“I can see a hundred different ways where that decision turns against you. Last I remember, you wanted to keep a low profile.”

In his ghost-like form, Steve floated down until he was leveled with his physical body. “It’s not like we’re announcing my name. Least I could do is warn Hive guards that someone planted a spell on that bridge.”

“How will you explain that a spell is even there?”

“I—”

“And if the guards do detect the spell, what’s stopping them from labeling you as their suspect? What do you have planned when they put the blame on you?”

The two continued arguing for the next few minutes. Herobrine, not understanding why Steve wanted to be involved in all this, refused to release his possession. Steve, wishing he could punch his own face, failed to convince the entity to let go.

Someone quietly walked past Herobrine. It was a burly man who looked like those laborers who worked beside docks, hauling ropes and crates onto boats. A small pouch was tied against his waist. A symbol was burned into the leathery fabric.

At the same time Herobrine sensed the magic from within the pouch, he caught a clear view of the symbol. 

His expression went blank. The air turned uncomfortably warm.

Whatever he had been telling Steve was left unsaid as the passing stranger had his undivided attention.

“What’s wrong?” Steve was quick to notice. “Why are you looking at the guy like that?”

“… like what?”

Murderous . Steve wanted to say. 

But before he could, Herobrine began walking back towards the bridge—no— towards that cultist. 

“Steve.” He grinned. “I think there’s a way for both of us to be satisfied.”

The human was dragged along like a balloon. “And that is?”

“Go speak with that man,” he whispered. “And ask what’s in his bag.”

Herobrine gave Steve control. He doesn’t even reappear as a ghost which left the young man confused to say the least. He was just arguing with the entity for control, but now that he has it…

Steve stared at the man then at the pouch.

He sighed. Why does Herobrine have to be so vague?

“Excuse me, sir!” Steve caught the stranger’s attention as he was approaching the bridge. He pointed to himself. “Yes, you!”

Running up to the stranger, Steve couldn’t help but notice the other straightening his posture, shoulders tight. 

“I’m sorry I just wanted to ask…” He needed an excuse. “Wwwhere do you work? I think I’ve seen you before.”

Good job, Steve .

The stranger had a guarded expression. “A shipment company.”

“Ah, shipment. Then, uh, how are the unions doing? Last I visited, there was a pretty intense strike going on.” Steve recalled how the whole economy of Swarm came to a stand still. But that was years ago, so he could be bringing up old news–

“Those labor unions. You know we’re still fighting for our wages, kid? If it wasn’t for us threatening to quit every other day, I would be working to my bones!”

“Must be stressful.”

The man solemnly shook his head, “I’ve been close to losing my job one too many times.”

“Is today your day off?” Steve asked.

“Sure is.” He turned to leave, “Now excuse me. I have somewhere to be. You, uh, get going.”

He placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder and pushed him in the direction where they had walked from… away from the bridge. 

Steve waved goodbye and started walking back down the street.

And ask what’s in his bag . 

He facepalmed.

You had one fucking job, Steve .

The stranger was already halfway across the flat bridge. Unlike the other people around, that guy looked tense. Way too tense. Steve watched as the stranger dragged his hand across the stone railing; his head cast low searching for something.

He found it. There was a round cavity carved into a column low enough so that it's out of view. His hand dug into the pouch and retrieved a smooth stone. It was etched with sharp patterns.

Fits like a glove .

“Hi.”

The stranger flinched. Steve was right behind him, tapping his shoulder.

“It's me again. I just wanted to ask where you got that little bag of yours. The design on it is neat.”

There was a crazed look in the stranger’s eyes. “Wha–why are you back? I told you to get going, kid.”

“But, I’m also going this way?” Steve tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

Even though the stone was still on the stranger’s palm, like an attractive magnet, it stuck itself onto the cavity. 

“Uh–I–I was just admiring the view.” He stood up straight. “Goodbye.”

Steve reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Wh–hey! The hell is wrong with–”

“THIS GUY HAS A BOMB! I REPEAT HE HAS A B O M B.”

That really did it. It took one bystander to start sprinting for everyone– men, women, children– to burst into panic. Some people weren’t even sure why they were panicking, but the sight of others clearing the bridge had them screaming too.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” The stranger tried to free his wrist from Steve’s grip. Despite being a whole head taller, the man couldn’t find the strength to pull away. “Shit!”

The salty taste of a strength potion still clung to Steve’s tongue.

“Did you cast that spell? Tell me. How long before it goes off?”

The man drew a knife from his inventory, and Steve reeled back, letting go of the other’s hand in the process. For a moment he just pointed the weapon at Steve.

“Get away from me!”  He turned to run.

So he’s not a fighter. Steve thought. 

He turned his attention to the stone. Its etchings now lit up red. Actually, every crack and crevice on the bridge was glowing red. 

 He tried to pull the stone off. But, his grip kept slipping off its smooth surface. 

“Damn!” In frustration, Steve punched it with all his (and the potion’s) strength. And…

It cracked! He reeled his shoulder and fist back.

BAM!

As if struck by a pickaxe, the stone split into two and dropped to the ground. The red light faded from it, but not from the bridge. 

Ignoring the screams of people and his bleeding knuckles, Steve picked up half of the stone. He aimed at the knees of the fleeing stranger and flung the rock. 

“AH!”

The stranger’s leg gave out with a sharp crack . He tripped face first into the ground, and the knife skittered from his grasp. Soon enough, Steve was looming right over him, pinning his foot on the other’s chest.

A shadow fell over his face. 

“I would ask you to stop the spell, but honestly, you don’t look like the type to know magic.” 

The red glow intensified. Most of the bridge had been cleared but there were stragglers. Elderlies and those with children.

Steve looked up. They won’t make it!

The city guards hadn't shown up yet. He doesn’t have time to help everyone off the bridge. Neither could he let the stranger escape. 

Maybe could teleport the people with enderpearls? 

No, that still takes too long. 

Use a speed potion?

He didn’t pack any. 

Steve was locked in place.

Shit. I should’ve stopped him sooner. I should’ve grabbed that stone from him. I have to do something. Anything. They can’t die. No, NO!

…

The stranger desperately clawed and kicked at the ground. He failed to even nudge Steve’s foot. “Let go! We’re both going to die!”

Steve’s expression was cold. He leaned down and grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt.

“You say that as if I don’t know.”

Like a land mine had just gone off, part of the bridge exploded into rubble. Chunks of debris and dust rained from the sky.

“Please, I’ll do anything, kid, just let me go!”

“First of all,” another explosion went off, “I am unfortunately older than I look so don’t call me ‘kid’.”

The screams of the crowd grew even louder, and Steve could barely hear himself say:

“Second, I think you should stick around and see your work finish.”

A third explosion set off, shocking both men to the very core, but Steve still doesn’t budge. The ringing in his ears barely muffled the sound of debris splashing into the waters below. 

Spreading like veins, the red magic finally reached the support beams, and the whole structure quaked. People were knocked off their feet. No longer able to take the stress, cracks expanded from where the magic glowed.

This was it. Steve’s body tensed as he awaited the final detonation and for the inevitable Respawn. He quietly apologized to the many he could not save…

…

The air changed. Like an invisible blanket was tossed over the area, dust immediately fell to the ground and into his hair.

“Good work.”

Steve gasped. “About time!”

Herobrine, in the flesh, walked up from behind. Despite the whole structure shaking, he kept his balance incredibly well. He held up a hand.

Snap!

It was like a lever had just been switched, shutting everything down. The bridge ceased to shake, and the red magic flickered and died.

Steve’s eyes widened in amazement. 

“Done. Now let’s take a look at the perpetrator.” Herobrine hovered over the stranger who’s still under Steve’s boot. “Clearly he was not the one who placed the spell.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Among all the chaos, the man had started to hyperventilate. He was ready to accept his demise, even sending a prayer to his god. But the rumbling… stopped? 

He opened his eyes. There were two of the kid now. So, he must have died and gone straight to hell.

Steve lets go of his foot, and the stranger quickly scrambled backwards.

“Who–who are you two?!”

“You don’t recognize me?”

The stranger’s eyes met the blank ones of Herobrine. The gears turned in his head.

“You.. you look like…”

The entity raised a brow. “Liiike?”

“Are you blind?”

Steve almost broke into laughter. 

“Alright, then. Does this complete the imagery?” Blue fire engulfed both of Herobrine’s hands, forcing Steve to take a step back.

The man stared in awe. “Hell, no. It's–it's you! Gods, I must have died. Then–then this must be Paradise!”

“Wrong.”

“What?”

Steve wasn’t sure what Herobrine did, but the man immediately collapsed to the ground unconscious.

People in uniform, the city guards, were arriving at the scene on both sides. They began to evacuate the few who still lingered on the bridge and tend to the wounded. A crowd of onlookers were also gathering at the scene, pointing and gasping in shock.

Steve felt Herobrine’s hand touch his back.

“Brace yourself.”

He nodded.

They teleported into an alley. Not too far from the bridge, but still close enough to hear the commotion. At least, they were away from the crowd which Steve was quite thankful for.

Herobrine dragged the unconscious man, a cult member, by his ankle.

“I’ll be going now.” The entity shook the man’s leg. “You’ll hear back once I’m done with this one.”

“Yeah.” Steve scratched the back of his hair. “I’m… glad you came.”

“I did not intend on letting a cultist escape.”

“I know, but I mean thanks for stopping the spell. You said you wouldn't but,” Steve sighed, “But if it had gone, you know, kabloom , then I don’t think I could’ve lived with that.” 

With the fact that lives were lost, because I acted too late again.

 Herobrine tilted his head ever so slightly. “Consider it a favor, Steve, for keeping this bastard busy while I was gone.” 

Without another word, he teleported with the cultist in tow. No doubt back to the Nether where the entity would wring every piece of information about the Second Order out of that man. And after he’s done, Herobrine would probably…

“Oh, right. Bread for Alex.”

Chapter Text

Steve was getting anxious.

It’s been four days, and he still hadn’t heard a single thing from Herobrine. Maybe he was just taking his time? Or, perhaps, the cultist gave him a lead that he’s hunting them down right now? Steve should be glad that things were relevantly calm. Yet, the feelings of uselessness never went away.

Hive officials investigated the bridge incident and confirmed that it was related to past acts of terror. Poison in the waterways, sabotage of shipping vessels, and fires in public spaces were some examples. When Alex returned from work that day, she greeted Steve with a tight, but relieved, hug. News of the bridge had reached her quickly. So, her workday was spent anxiously wondering if Steve was caught in the incident.

“Even before I moved here, Hive was already dealing with these problems,” said Alex. “They already caught a handful of the culprits, but none of them want to talk. People have a theory that an organization—a cult—is behind it all.  And frankly, I don’t doubt it…”

Once in a while, Alex would catch Steve looking over his shoulder and glancing at empty spaces. 

In fact, he did it just this morning. Steve had been sitting criss crossed on the living room floor. Before him laid an array of items dispensed from his inventory. 

Must be doing some organizing . Alex assumed.

She was in the kitchen waiting for the furnace to finish toasting her bread. The smell certainly left her stomach growling. As she sipped out of her mug, Alex saw Steve from the corner of her eye. His head was tilted up towards the ceiling, then it turned from side to side as if expecting to see something.

“Umm, you okay?”

Steve looked away. “Hm? Oh, I’m just looking around the place.”

Alex scoffed. “Whatever you say.”

She lets the thick toast cool before taking a large bite out of it. 

“Plan on going anywhere today? You’ve been cooped up since that incident.”

“I don’t think so,” replied Steve. “I’m just waiting for the Swarm Games to start.” Truthfully, Steve had been waiting around for Herobrine’s return.

Alex side-eyed him. “Right. After sooo many years, you showed up out of nowhere just for the Games. Wait. You’re not here to be in the Games, are you?”

“What? No, of course not,” he quickly said. “Those days are long behind me.”

For a second, Alex looked disappointed.

“Then do you want to go to the festival again? Today’s the last day before closing.” She noticed that Steve was giving her a questionable look. “Of course, I got work, so you’re going by yourself.”

 The young man fidgeted with the feather end of an arrow. He does feel bad for laying around and doing nothing all day while she’s wherever her work is. The bridge incident happened, but city life kept on going.

“I guess I should check it out.” Steve began placing each item back into his inventory. “Do you want anything from there?”

Alex scratched her chin. “See if they got any more blazed beef.”

“What?”

“Regular beef except they season it with blaze powder. It's a bright slice of meat you can’t miss.”

“Alright.” Steve stepped into his boots.

“And watch yourself.”

He nodded.

The festival wasn’t as congested as before, and Steve guessed that fewer people had time to go in the day than at night. It certainly felt more comfortable. As he walked past a couple of empty booths, he realized that many vendors had already gathered up their things and left. Even the makeshift platforms where musicians performed now stood empty. With enough luck, that “blazed beef” vendor might still be around.

“Come on folks, have a go at it! Knock down all the pins and get yourself any of these prizes!” a vendor hollered.

“Deep-fried rabbit! On a stick here!”

“Iced juice for just a coin!”

“Limited edition fan gear for the Games!”

Sparing only a glance, Steve trodden ahead. He was more focused on getting that snack for Alex. In fact, he barely cared for the festivities, having gone to these events one too many times in his younger years. If anything, the Games were what’s most exciting, especially for someone who had been a reigning champion.

Steve must have reached the center of the festival as he noticed larger groups of people moving about. While doing his best to avoid being in the way of foot traffic, the young man kept scanning the area for that–

“Hey, excuse me.” Steve quickly waved to a small boy. “Where did you get that?”

In the boy's hand was a skewer of brightly orange chunks of… something. Beef hopefully.

“Uuuuuuh, I don’t know. My mom got it.” He shrugged. “She got it over there.”

The boy pointed in a direction so vaguely that it took Steve 30 minutes of running around in circles to find it. He stepped up to the stall, out of breath, and held up five fingers.

The lady manning the grill just gave a nod. She held up a metal shaker and started to dust the meat with what’s no doubt blaze powder. The reaction between the powder and hot grill released a pillar of fire, sending a flash of heat that forced Steve to take some steps back.

Woah . He had bumped into another person in line. They held what looked like a wooden mug of beer which had splashed all over Steve’s arm and some on his shirt.

He cringed at the cold liquid dripping down his hand. 

“Ah, sorry man. I can get you another drink.” Steve offered.

The other person, a thin looking guy around Steve’s age, seemed more surprised than offended. He was wearing a pair of leather gloves, ones you would find in a mechanics workshop.

With bulging eyes he looked to Steve, back to the mug, then back to Steve.

“I–I’m, no, you don’t have to. I can just, erm, get another… right now.” He nervously smiled. “Bye.”

Ducking his head, the guy practically sprinted away before Steve could get in another word.

“Orders ready, sir,” said the lady.

Steve took the greasy paper bag from her, and it disappeared into his inventory.

Something’s off. 

Steve looked for somewhere to wash off the spill, but shortly after leaving that vendor, his body was wracked with fatigue. Every little movement, every single step, took such great effort. Afraid that he’ll trip over himself, Steve found an empty picnic bench in the food court area.

He sat there slumped over the table as his half-lidded eyes became heavier by the minute. Struggling to even hold his head up, Steve rested it on top of his arm. There, he took a sniff of the liquid staining his arm.

That is not beer .

“Shiiiiiit.”

Whatever it was, his skin already absorbed it. It suddenly made sense why that guy was wearing gloves; didn’t want the nasty concoction splashing on himself.

Milk. Steve needed to take out the milk from his inventory. That is, did he bring milk? He wasn’t sure. God, he was getting so sleepy. 

The sounds of the festival and people started to muffle. Darkness shrouded his peripheral vision until he saw black

The cold concrete floor pressed against his face. The air was stale, and afternoon sunlight poured from scratched windows. As Steve struggled to open his eyes, he imagined his kidnappers standing there with masks concealing their faces and weapons in hand. He already had a good guess of who they were.

Steve rubbed his eyes.

Huh, they didn’t bother tying me up.

And there’s no one around either. In fact, the whole room just looked like an undeveloped floor of a building, since everything was made of plain stone. Against a wall stood a pair of iron doors.

Steve pushed himself off the ground, becoming lightheaded for a moment. He stumbled over to one of the windows and peered outside. It still looked like the city, but this was definitely the fringes, or in other words, the city slums. They took him far. The young man contemplated jumping from this height.

The iron doors creaked. An elderly woman stepped halfway in before whispering to others standing outside.

“No. You will stay here. We want him to listen,” she explained before slamming the door shut behind her. “Oh! You’re awake.”

Steve faced her. The aged woman wore a plain white dress with a heavy shawl draped over her shoulders. She stood hunched and with her hands clasped, unassuming.

Her voice was weak. “Are you feeling well? You were… asleep for some time. We found you at the festival and—”

She noticed the look on Steve’s face. The look of cut the crap .

The woman sighed. “Look, young man. We know you were there that day at the bridge. That man you’ve taken, a fellow brother of ours, Jacob, failed his task because of you.”

So, other cultists were near the bridge that day . Steve realized. They must’ve wanted to make sure the deed was done.

She continued, “But we don’t seek retaliation. Rather, this is an opportunity for you to learn who we are and what we stand for.”

“Other than some delusional fanatics of fairy tales?” Steve cut in. If Herobrine was here, he might’ve incinerated Steve for calling him “fairy tale”. The comment certainly agitated the woman.

 She frowned. “Young man, those are all misconceptions. We want to better the world, better the people. You can’t deny that the world is festering with evil and corruption. The murderers, the greedy, the cheats and liars, even the monsters of the night. These are signs that our world has long expired.”

Steve shook his head. “Wait, are you trying to convert me right now?”

“Things weren’t like this in ancient times, young man,” she continued, ignoring Steve. “Realms were peaceful, and zombies and skeletons were a rarity. Human livelihood was simpler. I ask you this. Did you ever reach a point where things just don’t make sense? Have you ever asked yourself ‘why is my life like this?”

That struck a nerve. Steve bit his tongue and said nothing.

“Have you?”

Still nothing. Instead, Steve began backing towards the window.

The woman grew fervent. “The world does not have to be this way! There is a cure to corruption, and we have pursued it for centuries. I will gladly help you see that.”

“Is the cure a certain white-eyes?”

“W-what?”

An ax manifested in Steve’s hand; one that he launched at the window. Glimmering shards of glass flew outwards along with the ax.

“Stop!” The woman cried.

Steve dove towards his escape. He had one foot on the frame when a burning pain erupted from his back. Steve’s eyes squeezed shut, and he screamed. He fell on his back as white electricity danced across his skin. 

“You cannot leave. Not until you understand that what we’re doing is good.” The woman was holding an unfurled spell page. Since it had been activated, the page glowed.

“Under–understand what?” Steve spoke through gritted teeth. “Th-that you're just terrorists in this city–AGH!”

Another jolt.

“Don’t be difficult, please.” The woman pleaded. “We want the best for you.”

“After you’ve kidnapped me in fucking daylight?!” Steve tried to get up only to be administered another shock.

“That was necessary.”

Steve was getting tunnel vision. 

“You… were… about to kill innocents to what? Prove that the… the world is shitty?”

The woman shook her head. “Anyone who perishes for our cause or because of our cause are martyrs for the good of everyone. When our god transforms the world, he will bring peace even to the dead.”

For a minute, everything was quiet. Then, Steve laughed. The hysterical kind from someone who's just heard the world’s greatest joke.

Now I get Herobrine!

The woman looked displeased. “It's the truth! Its long been prophesied that–”

“Your god absolutely despises you! You know that?” Steve barked. “Told me himself.”

The cultist was stunned. And that was enough time for Steve to throw an ender pearl in her direction. The blue-green orb shattered on her shoulder, and in that instant Steve shoved her to the ground in a puff of purple particles. He tore the spell page from her grip.

“N-no! Help!”

Those iron doors burst open as two men came through. The taller one had an ax in one hand. The scrawny one, Steve recognized from the festival, was holding a potion bottle.

“Only capture him!” The old lady ordered from the ground.

Steve backed away as the armed cultists approached. “What? Still think that I’m worth converting?”

He summoned the only other weapon from his inventory since his ax was (literally) out the window. The netherite sword from Herobrine appeared in his grasp.

“Everyone is given a chance to know our faith.” The woman stood up. “But, I’m more curious about what you meant.”

“Hm?”

“You said that our god, Herobrine, told you himself .”

The two men looked towards each other perplexed.

“Of course he did.” Steve chuckled. “He gave me this neat sword.”

The cultist threw the potion which Steve easily dodged.

“He even called you lots scum of the Overworld.” Herobrine didn’t say that exactly, but it wasn’t too far off.

The man stepped forward, swinging the ax. All Steve did was parry, yet the netherite sliced straight through the ax handle. The iron head dropped to the ground with a loud clang . Caught by surprise, the man doesn’t notice Steve’s fist barreling towards his face. He collapsed to the ground with a sickening crack in his nose.

Another potion flew over Steve’s head.

He glared back at the scrawny guy and said, “Shit aim.”

The man yelped and fumbled for another potion. Steve dashed towards him with the sword ready, but what looked like a fire charger flew across his path. 

That hag knows her magic.

Another ball of fire grazed Steve’s shoulder as he tried to dodge. It burned past his shirt into his bare skin, the pain being dulled by the adrenaline rush. He summoned his shield.

Blocking between a barrage of fire and deadly potions, Steve felt his back touching the wall.

He shouted from behind his shield, “Have you ever seen your god? Or heard from him?”

The man replied, “All we need is our faith! I know plenty of others in our Order and throughout history who saw Herobrine!” He threw another potion that Steve blocked.

Cornered, Steve prepared another ender pearl. He lowered his shield with just enough time to chuck it in the cultist’s direction.  It broke at his feet.

“What the–”

He tackled the cultist to the ground just as another fireball flew overhead. In a panic, the guy began clawing at Steve’s arm with one hand and grasping for a potion with the other. 

The miner reeled his fist back for another strike. It collided with the cultist’s jaw the same time that a glass bottle shattered against Steve’s temple.

“Shit!” He reeled back from the cultist who was now knocked out cold.

The dark orange liquid dripped from the side of his face, matting his brown hair and getting into his mouth. Steve desperately tried to spit it out, but it was no use. He couldn't wipe it away with his hands either, as it only gave the liquid more surface area to be absorbed into.

“No, no, no.” He searched his inventory, but there was no milk.

That woman–the witch– pulled from her sleeves another page of spell the same one that earlier immobilized Steve.

She muttered, “We’ll show you the truth.”

A bright flash of electricity coiled around Steve. He didn’t even have time to scream as he fell forwards having lost control of his body. Seizing every so often, his vision was filled with stars.

“You’ll regret… taking… me.” Steve choked out his warning.

“No, we’re only trying to save your soul.”

He wanted to get another word in. To say that she was making a horrible mistake. But the potion– the sedative– made everything so fuzzy, and his eyelids eventually closed.

The next time he wakes, it would be somewhere worse than this.

Every morning, noon, and evening, the bells rang. And every morning, noon, and evening, Steve heard them from the cellars below.

How bold of the Second Order to have set up base right in Hive’s largest temple. A temple dedicated to many gods and many devotees. Steve thought about the hundreds of people entering the temple every day, and how not one ever wandered past the spiraling steps into the dungeons below. He thought about the past fourteen days. He thought about the cycle of questioning, beating, and preaching they made him undergo.

That witch would always approach him demanding, “Brother Jacob. Where is he?”

It was either no response from Steve or something like:

“Probably in hell.”

None of the cultists found that amusing, but he wasn’t even lying.

At some point, they realized that death wasn’t enough of a threat to Steve, so they just made him live all the more miserable. They graciously offered a bucket of water on the fifth day. Steve, delusional from dehydration, cupped the water into his mouth without a second thought. But it was already too late when he noticed pieces of a withered rose sunken in the water.

The inside of his mouth and tongue was enveloped in black. He coughed and coughed until he spat out blood. The cultists laughed from the other side of the door, only ever refilling the bucket with more tainted water. 

…

Preaching. They always ended with preaching.

A cultist sat there with a holy book. 

A bruised and beaten Steve laid half dead on the ground.

Steve blinked. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular, since the blindness potion had not worn off. He couldn’t get up either. Along with the temples bells and the cycle of torture, the other part of the routine was the weakness.

The weakness effect lingered within his cell like a fog, and Steve was forced to inhale it like air.

“And that concludes the founding of the Second Order,” said the cultist closing his book. “We will continue tomorrow and thank you for listening. I hope that you’ll soon tell us what you’ve done with Mr. Jacob.”

Steve didn’t have the energy to curse. He only listened to the man get up and lock the heavy doors behind him. 

For all I know, Mr. Jacob is a pile of bones.

…

He would get out of this. Even if it killed him, he had to get out.

…

As blindness wore off, Steve started to see the dry cobblestone walls of the cell and the rusted bars locking him in like some animal.

…

A tear flowed down the side of his face, and Steve mustered enough strength to wipe it away. For someone who’s done so well keeping himself stoic, he felt pitiful crying now. 

…

The ringing of evening bells sounded muffled. Steve exhales; the weakness effect leaving his mouth like smoke.

…

…

Someone hovered over him. They made no sound, but Steve felt a heavy presence. From the ground, he opened his eyes and met the glowing ones of Herobrine.  Even in the dark, and as a ghost, his eyes glowed bright. 

The entity’s face was unreadable.

“The…marble temple,” Steve whispered, “In the… in the middle of the city.”

Herobrine disappeared.

It took around five minutes for the screams to start. Echoes of men in confusion and terror reached Steve’s ears. He cringed once he heard blood and organs spilling onto the floor. With the little strength he was allowed, Steve sat up against the wall, struggling to not topple over.

The miner didn’t even flinch when someone kicked down the door to his cell. Herobrine stepped in. The moment his boot met the cell floor, the lingering fog dissipated as if afraid to touch the entity of chaos. Steve’s eyes followed Herobrine as the latter got closer.

The entity reached out with a golden– enchanted golden apple in hand.

Steve refused. “Can’t… move.” 

His body was completely saturated with the weakness effect. Two weeks’ worth of the potion flowed within his veins, and Herobrine seemed to understand this.

“We still have the alternative.” The entity replaced the golden apple with a loaded crossbow. “I could–”

A stray cultist rushed into the room bearing a dagger.

“Die!” They screamed.

Without looking back, Herobrine aimed and shot an arrow through their skull. The cultist flopped to the ground.

Continuing where he left off, Herobrine said, “I could kill you to accelerate the healing process. It will be less painful than this.”

Steve gasped. “N-not a chance. I can get… get better on my own.”

“You cannot even form cohesive sentences, Steve. You are clearly not in your right mind.”

“No…” He shook his head. “No, I don’t want to Respawn. B-back off.”

Herobrine pressed Steve against the wall with his free hand. With or without the weakness effect, the young man was too weak to budge.

“S-stop, let me go. Get that away from me!” He was talking about the crossbow now loaded with another arrow.

White eyes grew frustrated. “You will die if I teleport you out of the temple. If I carry you out, we risk being seen by other humans. Why is Respawn not the obvious choice?” His fingers were digging into Steve’s chest. “You have a gift, so use it!”

“I fucking hate it!” Steve broke into a coughing fit. “It's… a goddamn curse.”

“Fine then, mortal. You suggest another plan.”

There was no other plan, because Herobrine was right. Steve couldn’t possibly recover while being hunted down by maniac cultists. This sort of damage, even with the assistance of magic, would take at least a month. The Respawn would give him a new body immediately. All Steve had to do was give Herobrine the signal, then… well he’ll be in the cold embrace of the universe.

Steve looked down at his hands. They were shaking.

He looked up to Herobrine. Unmoving. Waiting.

The young man weakly grabbed the muzzle of the crossbow and slowly positioned it over his heart. He closed his eyes and nodded.

Herobrine doesn’t hesitate, and the last thing Steve heard was the snap of the string.

Chapter Text

The first thing Alex did was scream. Out of surprise, happiness, or anger Steve didn’t know, but for a moment he was glad that he Respawned.

Alex yanked Steve out of his bed and into a hug.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she swallowed. “I—I thought something bad happened like at the bridge, or you went up and left again.”

Sighing, Steve hugged her tighter.

“I got into some trouble.”

“For two weeks, Steve?!” Alex began pacing around the room. “The festival ended and-and no one was there so I started scouring the city and when no one, not even the officials, know who you are. Shit, I shouldn’t have sent you out, but I thought ‘yeah this guy can obviously take care of himself’. But when you don’t show for fourteen days EVERYTHING JUST STARTED TO—”

She grabbed the pillow from the bed and screamed into it. Steve waited for her to lose breath before speaking up.

“I’m really sorry.” He wasn’t ready to tell her the truth. “Wasn’t looking where I was going and wandered into the slums. Some assholes caught me by surprise, and it took me a while to get out.”

“Gods, don’t be sorry Steve. Did they hurt you?”

Coming up with something on the spot, Steve replied, “Not too bad. They sort of held me hostage, until they realized I had no connections in Swarm.”

It was hard to tell whether Alex believed him, since she looked so stressed. She threw the pillow, and it smacked Steve straight in the face.

“Idiot. I don’t know how you’re looking so kempt after being abducted, but you are not leaving this house.”

Steve cocked his head. “So no more errands? And for how long?”

“Forever I don’t know, until I get back!” Alex pulled a pocket watch from her pocket. “Damn, I have somewhere to be right now. Get yourself something to eat from the kitchen. I'll be back by tonight.”

Steve followed Alex out of his room. “Your job again. What do you do anyway?”

“Some things here and there. Classified work.” She stepped into her boots. “And I’m serious, Steve. If you’re not here when I get back, I’m throwing you into the streets!”

The door slammed as Alex exited, and the second it did, Herobrine materialized as a ghost.

Steve’s face fell. After all that happened, he was in no mood to talk to him.

“You should know that I’ve been busy for the past week,” the entity said. “Remember that cultist from the bridge? I was able to retrieve valuable information from him.”

The young man, facing away, wasn’t listening.

The entity continued, “Jacob, as his name was, told me the names of other Realms in which the Order have set up base. Most of these Realms you most likely know. However, he refused to disclose where in Swarm is the Order. I suspected that they were in Hive City, and as it turned out, I’m correct.”

Steve sighed. There was something that needed to be addressed, and it was obvious that Herobrine wouldn’t bring it up.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything sooner?” Steve asked. “I was down there for days. Why the hell couldn’t you show up even once?”

Herobrine looked away.

“As I’ve said. I was busy following leads to the Second Order’s whereabouts.”

Steve made a frustrated noise. “And you didn’t think leaving me in the dark would be a problem? I could’ve helped.”

Herobrine had called this a “partnership”; Steve called it parasitism. Because at the end of the day, Steve was a tool. One that can miraculously repair itself no matter the damages sustained. Why should Herobrine care about a tool if it serves him well? Steve was nowhere near as powerful as Herobrine who had more control over his body than Steve himself.

Yet, this doesn’t stop Steve from feeling like he should be doing more. After what’s happened to him and to the city, he decided that the Order was truly the threat Herobrine made it to be. He couldn’t stand still when actual terrorists were threatening innocent lives.

“You could’ve told me what you’ve learned from that cultist,” murmured Steve, his tone laced with anger. “Then I could’ve gone into the city looking for possible leads. Or maybe if you had stuck around, I wouldn’t have been taken there, drugged the hell out of my mind while some lunatic tried brainwashing me!”

Herobrine floated down until he was eye level with Steve. His expression showed concern. “The temple chambers are littered with the pieces of my so-called ‘followers’. I’ve made them regret ever taking you.”

It was a poor attempt at an apology, and they both knew that.

Steve huffed, “But that’s not my point. I know I’m just your ride in the Overworld, but I… I want you to try acknowledging my side of our ‘deal’.”

Understanding dawned upon Herobrine. “You are still upset from Respawning.”

“Respawn?” Steve stepped towards Herobrine. “I wouldn’t have done that if you had been there!”

“And I still do not understand how Respawn is such a ‘curse’ to you.” Of course, something so non-human wouldn’t understand.

“Don’t change the subject…” Steve was cut off by the sight of particles floating in the air around him.

“No, stop that!” He shouted. DON’T YOU—”

This looked like the home of mountain goats. The miner found himself at the base of a rocky behemoth, and everywhere he looked were gray peaks reaching into the clouds. The wilderness stretched over the ground as dull greenery with a few shrubs here and there. Steve noticed the biting cold; constant winds swept through his clothing and hair, leaving goosebumps over his arms which were ghostly pale from that teleport. He cursed under his breath.

Herobrine spoke from behind. “I’ve taken us far from civilization. Not a single soul around to hear us.” He almost sounded smug. “Go on. Make me understand Respawn.”

The winds were howling, and the teleport had again wracked Steve’s body with aches. He tried to gather his thoughts.

“Wh-where did you… why? You know what,” he waved his hands, “Forget I asked.”

Honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised that the entity acted however he wanted. Steve carefully walked over rough ground until he found somewhere to sit; pieces of stone crunched under his weight. His palm rubbed over his heart, feeling the arrow-sized scar.

 “If I tell you about the Respawn, then we need to make some ground rules.”

Herobrine raised a brow.

“Before you do any shit with your powers, like what you did just now, I want to know BEFORE it happens.”

“I… agree.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It would be great if you don’t disappear for who the hell knows how long without telling me anything.”

“Also, agreeable.” Floating down until he “sat” just an inch off the ground, Herobrine did his best to sound earnest. “Steve, don’t think that what happened means nothing to me.” He sighed. “They hurt you. Because I was not careful. Especially now that the Order has members who recognize your face. We don’t need them to know that you are my host either.” 

Right. Host.

Steve looked away to a mountain far in the distance. “Yeah,” he replied after a pause. Another gust of wind sent chills down his back.

“I… okay, okay.” It felt like Steve was put in the spotlight. Like the whole world was eavesdropping on him. But there’s no one here besides Herobrine, so he should just say it.

Shivering, Steve hugged his arms. “The Respawn. It’s like… I’ve had it since…” Words were hard. “Goddamnit.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. It was as if the moment he spoke, the winds would carry it away far across the lands for everyone to hear, and Herobrine stared at him so intently.

“You said it was like a curse. Why?”

Steve inhaled then exhaled. “No one’s supposed to live this long. I can’t live this long.”

He continued, “Everything. People. The Realms. They get to move on, while I’m stuck. My friends get to grow old and have lives, and I want to be part of that! I’ve gone past my centennial for gods sake.”

Listening, Herobrine wondered out loud, “You want an end to your life? I’ve always thought humans seek to extend their time. Kings and queens. Alchemists and priests. I’ve seen them search for immortality.” He gestured towards the young man. “But look at you.”

Picking up a pebble, Steve fidgeted with it between his fingers. “You know it was fun at first. I was obsessed with Respawn,” he said. “I threw my life around like it was nothing, and I loved the attention, the fame. It took me a while to realize that eternity was going to be a very, very long time. ”

It took a moment before Herobrine responded. “Then, what do you think of me? I’ve seen it all, Steve. Why don’t I seek the end that you want?”

Steve chuckled. “Because you’re you. Some kind of god-not-god thing. You’re not a human.”

“Perhaps. I’ve seen the world in a perspective far different than you can imagine…” Herobrine looked like he wanted to say more, but instead asked, “And how exactly did you acquire Respawn?”

Steve was baffled. “You don’t know?”

“There are far stranger conditions I’ve seen humans get themselves into. Yes, Respawn is unique, but nowhere close to being cursed with Bad Luck.”

Steve chuckled. “That’s a thing?”

“The stories of humanity are fascinating indeed. So don’t think that tales of a ‘deathless warrior’ is foreign to me.”

Steve froze. Deathless. That title. He hadn’t been called ‘deathless’ in years. “You knew about me.”

The entity smiled, a mischievous look on his face. “Humans whisper to themselves. Saying a deathless mortal who feared no monsters walked among the Realms. Knowing you was one thing, Steve. Finding you was another.” He tapped his chin. “Anyone I suspected of being this ‘deathless’ figure I killed, and it was always disappointing when they stayed a corpse. ”

Uncomfortable, Steve began to lean away from Herobrine, then a thought hit him. “Those people in Pine Fields. All those villagers who went missing around town, did you think they were me?”

Herobrine made a tsk sound. “Members of the Second Order. Their groups are much more concentrated in the outer Realms. It seems that your self-isolation didn’t make cultists too keen on converting you.”

“Tell that to me yesterday.” Steve shook his head. “The End.”

“What?”

“I went into the End,” he said louder. “Fought my way through until the exit appeared.”

“Until the dragon was dead.” Herobrine corrected with a hint of annoyance which Steve picked up on.

“I shouldn’t have been in the End at all. Stupid I know. I woke up after using the exit portal, but before I did it was like… like I was in some afterlife.”

That piqued Herobrine’s interest. “Continue.”

‘Afterlife’ was used loosely. Over a hundred years had passed since that day, yet the memories remained clear. That abyss of a portal took him into another reality, some cosmic space he could barely comprehend. The black coldness that enveloped Steve's body was nothing like the chills he felt now. Everything felt so final, more so than the End itself. It was there that They spoke. Among the stars, Steve remembered how it was as if the universe itself spoke to him. They said so much; he couldn’t possibly remember.

“Stop.” Herobrine suddenly interrupted. “That’s enough.”

Steve stared at the other with confusion. “What? I’m not making this up.”

“No… I don’t doubt it.” The entity looked away.

That wasn’t the reaction Steve expected. Herobrine wanted to know about Respawn, and Steve shared all he could of what transpired over a century ago. But it seemed like his stories weren’t sitting well with the other. The other, an eldritch being, uneased by the origins of Respawn. He had to know more.

“What is it?” asked Steve. “You know something?” 

It was like Herobrine was having a staring contest with the sky. A blank expression concealing any emotions from slipping through.

“Thank you. For telling me all this,” he said. “I will take us back now.”

In the Nether, Herobrine found himself unable to stay still. One minute he was pacing in circles; the next, erratically teleporting from biome to biome like some enderman caught in rain. Even the mobs in his vicinity grew nervous. Striders huddled in lava flooded caves. Hoglins, seemingly mad, rammed their tusks into the trucks of crimson trees. And the gloomy bastions were alive with the sound of piglins running about.

“It shouldn’t matter to me,” Herobrine muttered to no one from atop a cliff. “So what if They spoke to a human?”

His form glitched, then he was standing amidst a soul sand desert.

“What reason do They have,” He kicked the sand, “to talk to anything!”

The tormented souls swirled around his feet like small whirlpools. They sunk the entity down until they reached his knees, whispering to him their wishes. Relief from hell was what they sought. But it fell on deaf ears.

“Can you believe Them?” Herobrine laughed. “Making some human immortal just to contact me again. The universe sure acts in mysterious ways, right?”

He was sinking fast into the desert. Stretching out his arms, blue fire ignited from both of Herobrine’s bandaged hands. He clapped his palms together.

BOOM!

The sphere of soul fire that blasted out from within him looked like a nuke. Dark ash was tossed as high as the Nether ceiling, and a blinding light lit up every crevice. Ripples even formed in a nearby river of lava.

The suddenly heated air cracked and thundered. Only seconds later would human explorers from afar hear the impossible rumbling in the Nether. When they report back to the Hive, they would blame it on unauthorized pyrotechnics working their explosives.

The white eyed entity stood unmoving in the crater. The fiery crater of molten glass. Here, Herobrine truly looked like a demon. He was huffing from anger rather than exhaustion.

Nothing would change. His plans with Steve will remain the same.

Flakes of ash were dusted from his face.

He doesn’t need pity from his creator. 

Another ball of fire, this time red, was flung into the distance; just to release that last bit of rage. Like Herobrine would ever speak to Steve about this. This would completely derail their mission against the Second Order. And certainly not after knowing that he slaughtered an End dragon.

Steve was right where he left him. Back in Alex’s home, that woman was still away at her duties which left the young man alone. Herobrine noticed that he was examining something on the dining table. Floating closer, he realized what it was.

A small advertisement featuring the upcoming Swarm Games was laid upon the table. Steve had a hand pressed over his mouth, and he was looking away as if embarrassed. He didn’t even react to Herobrine’s presence.

“What is this?” Herobrine asked from over Steve’s shoulder. “The Games?”

Stylized figures of men and women were drawn on the ad, all depicted like athletes. They posed with respect to their positions in the Games. Typed in bold on the center of the page read:

HERE’S TO GREATNESS

Herobrine’s gaze fell onto a figure just under the ‘G’ in greatness. Leather padding covered their shoulders, and a dark chest plate hung over their chest. They posed straight forward with both hands grasping a longsword. And there were those purple eyes–

“That’s you,” remarked Herobrine. “You lived here for the Games?”

The other man grumbled something inaudible. “Yeah, too long ago. I just can’t believe they’re calling me a veteran.” He scanned over the ad once more. “You know I knew some of these people. She was my teammate in Spleef, and I defeated this guy like five times. In a row. Oh, that one tried poisoning my food during breaks.”

“I see. You have a lot of history with the Games. Care to revisit?”

“No.”

With that grin on his face, Herobrine pointed to Steve. “I’ve confirmed that some of this year’s contestants are of the Order. Sure, they may not be as… fervent as your kidnappers but this is concerning is it not?”

Steve’s jaw clenched tight He almost made a move to strangle the entity before realizing that he was a ghost. Joining the Games? Herobrine knew Steve would rather jump the void. Because this would defeat every attempt at laying low in the Realms. The very purpose of Steve’s disappearance would mean nothing if he competed again.

“I won’t–”

“I know you won’t. I’m proposing an indirect approach to the Games. One that puts us near the contestants.”

Visibly relaxed, Steve began to see a plan unfold. One that accounted for the popularity of the Swarm Games along with the cult’s acts of terrorism. Hive City would no doubt enforce high levels of security.

Rubbing his chin, Steve said, “So, I disguise as a staff. Most likely someone who sees the contestants often.”

“Exactly.”

“Then I narrow down who the cultists are. Know their names. Memorize faces. And once the Games are over, we can deal with them in private.”

Herobrine hungrily licked his teeth. “You’ve read my mind.”

“But the opening ceremony is within a week. Everything’s organized by now.”

“Anything can happen,” Herobrine pointed out. “Days leading to big events like these can get quite chaotic.”

Three knocks from the door.

Steve hesitated to open and whispered to Herobrine, “Cultist?”

The entity phased through the front door without hesitation. He returned shaking his head.

The door opened to reveal Alex.

“Oh, good! You’re still here.” She was wearing her red cloak. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Of course. I’m grounded,” Steve joked.

“That’s not funny.” Alex remained outside the door. Concern was etched over her features, and one of her hands was balled into a fist. “I… I’ve just been worried the whole day. Take care of yourself. Okay?”

Herobrine sensed the urgency from her voice. Even more so he noticed how sweaty she was. The flush on Alex’s face indicated that she came in a hurry all the way from her work. Maybe, this was not just about Steve being alone in the city again.

Steve himself, however, seemed dismissive. “Um, yeah? I promise. I’m not leaving the house today.”

“You better not,” the redhead grabbed the door handle. For a second, Alex glanced at Steve, and recollection flashed across her face before she shook it off. “Alright, well, I have to get back to work.” The door closed behind her.

Her brief interruption left the two men in silence.

“Damn, I hate she’s worried like this,” Steve sighed. “Where were we?”

“Hm?” Herobrine was lost in thought.

“The plan. How we’re getting into the Games.”

“Right.” It’s probably just stress he sensed from Alex. “Putting any one of the staff members out of commission is an easy feat. The question is which one.” He looked expectantly at Steve who just had a light bulb moment.

“The custodians!” He blurted. “I used to see them everywhere when I competed. No one pays attention to the guys who are just there to clean.”

Herobrine smiled, “And we won’t attract the organizer’s attention either. How creative.”

Scheming. He himself used to do that a lot, Herobrine thought. Toying with monsters and men for eons solidified his legacy as a myth to mortals. Now he was doing it again but for necessity rather than fun.

Herobrine noticed that his host was at the table, scribbling their plans into a book. His face was scrunched in concentration.

Well, maybe it’s still fun, especially now with someone else.

Surprised at himself for thinking that, Herobrine returned to the Nether and stretched as soon as he returned to his body. Thoughts about the universe returned, irritating him. Too difficult to brush aside, he allowed the ideas to wander until they led him back to that immortal human.

“Damn, They must be so proud of Themselves.”

Chapter Text

Swarm Games were up in the clouds. Literally. It was a mechanical and magical masterpiece created by hundreds of humankind’s greatest minds. An archipelago of floating islands were dug up from the earth just for these Games. The largest of these islands was well the size of a village. Aside from a layer of grassy dirt, these islands were entirely made from metal and redstone with magic being its ‘blood’. Outsiders might assume that this was all too excessive. However, the Games were more than an attraction. It was a matter of defending a Realm’s honor.

“But that’s all in the traditional sense.” Steve commented. “I guess pride is a better word.”

Herobrine hummed. “I see… you missed a spot.” 

Steve grumbled but wiped the stain from the window anyway. He was dressed in a loose white uniform with a white cap to match, the kind a janitor might wear. This job opening was taken by Steve after the last guy mysteriously fell ill. Desperate for a replacement, the Games’ sanitation manager hired him without much thought.

“I did not kill the man,” Herobrine had clarified.

The facility that Steve was tidying up would host tomorrow’s Spleef and other games to come. This oval-shaped arena had a domed ceiling, and it sported an impressive stonework of concrete and chiseled granite. Tall glass windows were impressed into pointed arches that wrapped around the entirety of the structure and each of its three floors.

Steve explained, “The playing fields look like ice rinks, but there’s no platform on the bottom. You just fall through whatever hole your opponent dug and drop to the next layer.” He dunked the towel into a bucket of water and wrings it dry. “I mean, I wasn’t a Spleef athlete, but those Spleef matches are quite a scene.”

“You are nostalgic,” Herobrine pointed out. “Being here in these halls must mean something to you.”

The other man chuckled softly. “I suppose.”

Eventually, Steve's mind wandered to their conversation of his past from days ago. He hesitated to ask but did so anyway.

“Do you travel to the End often?”

Herobrine looked surprised. “What brought this up?”

“Because,” Steve wiped away another stain, “I’ve told you that I’ve ventured into the End before. That place was inhospitable to say the least. I mean, how does anything survive there let alone a dragon?” The second those words left his mouth, Steve eyed Herobrine for a reaction.

“I suppose she feasts on trespassing mortals like you.” he simply replied. 

“Must not be often then.”

“I’d rather it be never.” The entity crossed his arms. “Listen, I know what you are trying to ask, but leave your curiosities be. There are more important things you should be doing.”

It would be a mistake to ask for more from him, so Steve muttered a fine before looking back out the glass.

The view outside was just breathtaking. Hive sprawled out from under the islands like a spider’s web, and anyone could just tell how intricate the city’s waterways were. Steve could even see the patchy farmlands farther outside the Hive. The islands weren’t high enough to touch the clouds, since they needed to be reachable by redstone zeppelins. Tomorrow, there would no doubt be a line of these airships carrying people from among the islands and the ground.

Too bad they weren’t here for the Games or the view.

“We have company,” Herobrine alerted. Someone had emerged from the stairs to their right.

Carrying on with his job as if he didn’t notice, Steve whispered, “Another worker?”

“No, they are dressed plainly. There’s no one else with them.”

Steve remembered the manager debriefing the sanitation team. There was mention of the Spleef arena being closed off to everyone except Games organizers. As Steve picked up the bucket and moved onto the next window, he heard shuffling from the newcomer.

Herobrine relayed what he saw. “She is loitering. Admiring the banners I think. She is looking at you now.”

“Ahem,” the newcomer cleared her throat. “I thought there would be more staff here. Cause, you know, tomorrow is a big day.” She spoke with a brash tone.

Steve placed down his bucket. “Who are you, miss?”

Her blond hair was partially tied back revealing a deeply tanned face. She wore a patterned purple jacket and… socks with sandals.

“My name’s Kai! I’m competing in Spleef,” she proudly proclaimed. “Really excited for tomorrow’s crowd, so I just had to check out the place.”

“Are you allowed to be here?”

Kai shrugged, “No one stopped me. Are you going too?”

Steve contemplated that, even looking towards Herobrine who mouthed the word ‘cult’.

Good idea. They should consider if she’s part of the Order.

“No,” Steve reached into his pocket, “as long as you don’t make trouble. Security will kick you out eventually.”

“Come on! What’s wrong with a player checking out the playing field?”

Steve inwardly groaned. Kai was reminding him too much of arrogant players he’d encountered in the past.

“It’s no different than the rinks you’ve practiced on.” He muttered. “Anyway, could I get your autograph?” Steve unfolded the piece of paper to reveal the symbol of the Order. Before they left, Herobrine had Steve sketch it down: a perfect square surrounded by swirls which represented fire. He said that it might prove useful in their search.

Kai looked surprised, but not because of the symbol.

“You want my autograph, after telling me to leave? Yeah right.” Despite this, she took out a quill from her inventory. “Give it here. I’m not saying no to a fan.”

After she handed the paper back, Steve was slightly annoyed to see her signature, first and last name, massively scrawled across the paper. It even overlapped the symbol, but the young man did his best to sound grateful.

“Wooow, thanks. Looking forward to tomorrow’s game.” Steve picked up the bucket and excused himself, walking somewhere hopefully out of the athlete’s view.

Herobrine chimed in, “She’s following us.”

This time Steve couldn’t help but audibly sigh. 

“Do you need anything?”

Kai confidently said, “Nope. I’m just following you in case I get lost. Hey, so which game are you most excited for? Do you have a favorite player?”

“No,” Steve deadpanned.

“Right, right. They're keeping you busy. I personally just can't wait for Survival. Did you know they leaked this year’s map? It’s some kind of maze this time.”

“Cool.”

“They also renovated the place all us players are staying. You probably saw it already, but it’s practically a resort. I swear I could live there.”

“Mhm.”

Out of the two, well three technically, Herobrine was the only person listening to what the other said. Because Steve, on the other hand, was struggling to remember where the janitor closet was.

Ah, there. Two potted plants had blocked the view of the doorway. The keys jingled as Steve unlocked the door revealing a simple closet full of shelves and cleaning material.

“I know Swarm had a reason for always hosting the Games, but damn. You don’t believe it until you see it, like I almost cried flying into these islands.” Kai seemed oblivious that the other wasn’t listening. “Heh, before getting into Spleef, I was an engineering student, so I kind of get the insane machinery of this place.”

Duster. Duster. Where is it? 

“While I was at the resort, I even saw some veterans!” Kai squealed from the doorway. “My childhood icons. Spleef hasn’t even begun, but this trip is already worth it.”

Just then two burly guards came within view. One of them made eye contact with Steve who discreetly pointed to a talkative Kai. They got the cue.

“Excuse me. This area is restricted to visitors, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

As they escorted Kai down the nearest stairwell, she turned to Steve with a look of betrayal. “Wait, come on, we’re having a good talk!”

Steve shrugged and pulled down on his cap. Continuing on with his ethically acquired job, the young man spent the whole afternoon dusting every surface and even setting up chairs for the food court.

At the end of his shift, Herobrine congratulated him. “Nice work. Now, you should try tidying your inventory.”

“Hah. Hah.”

It was a quiet kind of noon, and Steve was ready to leave the islands. Outside the arena’s massive entryway, he could see these islands floating in the atmosphere, each with their own landing strips for the zeppelins. There was no way he’s staying at the resort where all the athletes are, so his only other choice was to wait for the next ship. Or, he could take an even quicker route.

“Could you take us back down?” It would be nauseating, but teleportation was not a bad choice right now. “Herobrine?”

No one was there. Steve looked behind and even above him but found nothing.

“We talked about this,” he grumbled. Airship it is then.

As he walked along the path towards the landing zones, Steve felt a tap on his shoulder. Having seen no one outside the arena, a scream nearly escaped his lips as he twisted around to see—

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU— ”

“Lower your voice.” Herobrine, in the flesh, grabbed Steve by the shoulders. His expression was grim. “I am taking us somewhere to talk.”

“Uh, I— okay?”

It happened so quickly. Herobrine couldn’t even fight back as the summoning pulled him straight into the Overworld. And unlike last time, they fully separated him from the Nether. 

The chanting, ritual circle, and fire Herobrine was familiar with but not the thirty something mages surrounding him.

They did something to him. 

He knows it. 

The second the glitchy pieces of Herobrine fully formed, a bright light burst from the magician’s palms. Herobrine didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing their “god”, so without another thought, he had teleported away.

Impossible. They weren’t supposed to know he was here. It should’ve taken the Second Order a month at least to realize he was in Swarm. Was it the temple? Did he miss a cultist while freeing Steve? There was too much carnage to tell what was dead or alive.

All of this Herobrine mumbled to himself as he sat on the living room floor. Lying down beside him was Steve, massaging away the last bit of nausea caused by the teleport. Luckily, Alex was not home to witness this.

Steve groaned, “Hey… slow down. I’m not getting any of what you’re saying.”

Herobrine exhaustively rubbed his face. “I’ve been sloppy. And now those bastards know I’m here.” Wisps of smoke flowed out from the white bandages wrapped around his arms.

“Just go back to the Nether. We’ll make another plan,” Steve suggested. He took a sniff of the smell filling the room. “Are you about to catch on fire or something?”

“I cannot do that, Steve.”

“Ok, ok. I don’t really know how your powers worked.”

Herobrine fully turned to the other man. “No. I mean I cannot access the Nether.”

Steve sat up so quick that his headache returned. “Ugh… How? Have you tried?”

“Of course, I did! I should have stepped across dimensions, instead I literally stepped to the other side of the portal.”

Herobrine recalled the panic overtaking him as his foot phased through the purple gateway. It was as if, to the portal, he did not exist.

“I can feel it now.” Herobrine drew a finger across his chest and frowned. “The spell those cultists casted. It’s… all over me.” A chilling sensation clung onto Herobrine like skin.

There wasn’t anyway that Steve could help, and he knew it. Nevertheless, he gathered the little magical knowledge he had to form an answer.

“Well, magic can’t last forever. Especially when it’s disconnected from its source I’m sure that it’ll wear off soon.”

Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Herobrine muttered, “I am trying to dispel it. Yet it feels like peeling away a thousand layers.”

The Second Order were improving their sorcery at an alarming rate. Trapping him in the Overworld? Those cultists were truly asking for a slow, painful death. Herobrine cursed at himself for leaving the summoning site so quickly. Because at least then he’d be able to track their location.

“Hey!”

“What?”

Steve pointed down. Glowing embers had dotted the bandages across his arms.

The white eyed entity made a noise of frustration, and the embers died. “My presence here won’t change anything. Tomorrow, when that ‘Spleef’ tournament begins, we will search for members of the Order.”

“We? I thought—”

Herobrine disappeared in an instant, and Steve was left staring at the wall.

“What the hell.” The young man got on his feet, his eyes darting across the barren living room.

Sitting at the dining table, Herobrine reappeared. “Yes, we. How do you think I’ve been observing humans up close?”

“Wha—okay, but that’s not what I’m saying.” Steve made his way to the table. “What about the Overworld driving you insane before you can get back?”

The other sighed. “We can only hope it does not come to that.”

The energy of the stadium was incredible. Spleef competitors were doing warmups on the ice, gliding on skates at dizzying speeds. Spectators filled in the last few empty seats in the audience, and many dressed in the respective colors of their Realms. As expected, most wore purple and yellow in support of the realm of Swarm.

Outside, perfect weather conditions allowed a line of zeppelins to carry people from the ground up. Multiple lines formed around the entrances into the arena. And the air was filled with excitement. Thick banners of the most popular contestants fluttered in the wind; all drawn in the same style as the advertisement.

Back in uniform, Steve had requested to be stationed at the sidelines of the ice rink. Here, he could see the technicians, coaches, and athletes milling about. His attention landed on a certain Kai by the benches. She was putting on the last pieces of gear: knee pads and a padded mask. The straps needed constant readjusting; she seemed nervous.

Steve wandered towards her direction. 

“You’ll do great.”

“Huh? Oh, I know I will.” Kai rested her elbow on the mask. “My teams playing the opening match, s-so I gotta make an awesome impression.” She gave a forced smile to a passing teammate.

“Control your breathing.” Steve advised. “I’m sure you’ve worked hard. All that matters on the ice is what goes on in your head.”

A mix of surprise and gratitude showed on Kai’s face. “Thanks, I’ll try.”

Steve watched as she secured her helmet and exited onto the ice. Announcements should start any minute now.

One weakness of the Second Order is that they loved flaunting their insignia. Whether it’s embroidered into their clothes or tattooed on their skin, the fire-engulfed-square symbol gave them a sense of pride. That’s why Herobrine whispered typical when he noticed it on the necklace of a passerby. 

Cloaked in invisibility, he stalked the cultist. Her brows were creased, and she was dressed a bit too formally for an event such as the Games. The clicks of her thick heels from under her dress told Herobrine that she was in a hurry. Fortunately, with many visitors watching the Spleef matches, the outer floors and halls were relatively empty aside from a few guards.

Muffled cheers could be heard from the arena, and the woman frowned. She waved the attention of a nearby guard who pointed out directions.

“Thank you.”

She turned to a small corridor that led to a narrow tower of staircases leading up and down the stadium. There were no windows here, instead redstone lamps were embedded into the walls. The woman leaned against the rusted railings as she gauged how many floors she’ll have to cover.

“Damn,” she huffed.

Herobrine, still invisible, casually leaned against the railing beside her. A sharp crack echoed from the old metal, scaring the woman half to death.

She made a frustrated noise, her eyes looking crazed. “Agh! To hell with this place!” 

From her inventory, she snatched an enchanted book. It was worn and crusty; the cover barely hanging on. The woman flipped to the first page, and… tore it out. Crumpled it into a ball and dropped it to the floor. 

And so she began her laborious trip up the stairs, dropping a crumpled sheet at every level. Her whispers filled the air. To Herobrine, it was a bunch of nonsense.

“Look at me doing the work of our god. Those cowards really think that nonbelievers have power over us!” She forcefully ripped out two pages this time. “These are just some pieces of dirt in the sky. They aren’t untouchable! We shouldn’t be afraid of them.” Litter trailed from behind her. “Some priests they are to say that the-the Games are off limits.”

The cultist was running out of breath, so she momentarily paused to sit in the middle of the stairs. The book was carelessly tossed at her feet.

Herobrine tsk-ed . “Be careful. Those spells are delicate.”

The other screamed in surprise, then slammed a hand over her mouth. Someone could’ve heard her.

On the level shortly above, Herobrine dropped his invisibility. An amused expression was clear across his face. 

“Did I hear everything correctly? You have a disagreement with your leaders?”

The woman slowly turned and froze at the sight of glowing eyes looming over her. Her lips moved but made no sound.

He stepped down and continued, “You came here on your own. After being told not too. And I bet that angry spell book was stolen from your elders as well.” There was so much magic stuffed in its pages that it was practically radioactive. “Do you even know magic?”

Herobrine leaned down. “Even with your delicate handling , it’s a miracle that bomb hasn’t detonated.”

But the cultist wasn’t listening to a single thing he said— what her god said. She suddenly grasped out with both hands. Of course, Herobrine dodged it.

“Who are you? No… no I already know. It’s you!” 

With her sprawled on the stairs and Herobrine standing a couple steps above, it looked like a worshiper finally meeting their deity. Which it was.

“Oh, I can’t believe it,” she wiped away tears of joy, “and of course it’s when I’m carrying out the work of the Order that you appear! Herobr—.”

“Stop that.”

“Herobrine! You must’ve known my devotion to you was greater than those priests.” She was in her own world. “P-please tell me what your follower can do for you.”

Of all the cultists, these were the least difficult to deal with. Because despite their ludicrous enthusiasm, they often reveal everything they know about the Order. 

If Herobrine had irises, they'd be rolling. “Why are you here?”

“I’m your messenger! Everyone said that we shouldn’t interfere with the Games, but they’re all cowards. I mean with so many people in one place, why shouldn’t we spread our message here?”

“I see. And you are here alone?”

She vigorously nodded. “I felt it in my guts to come here today, and, well, it’s brought me to you. My rebellion against the Order, it—it must be fate!”

“Mhm. Did the Order say why you shouldn’t interfere with something like the Games?”

“They say the Hive will retaliate. But it’s not like we’ve risen above persecution before—”

“Swarm will retaliate.”

The woman stuttered, “Right—yes. That’s what I meant.”

“No. You said ‘Hive’. I know what you are thinking.” A loaded crossbow manifested in his left hand. “You think that it's only Hive that you will be angering, but it’s so much more. Within these walls are representatives from the Realms of Aether, Dune, and Origins just to list a few, and they will be out for your heads.”

The weapon clicked within his grasp, causing the woman to take some wary steps down the stairs.

“Yes—but isn’t that our purpose? We are meant to the show that world that— ”

“Are you contradicting me?”

“No, no! Of course not! I simply thought I can serve you better by spreading your message to these heathens.”

The air became static-like. The hair on her skin stood on end. 

Even in the dimly lit stairwell, Herobrine noticed the color draining from the cultist’s face. The reality of speaking to an otherworldly creature was finally hitting her.

“Ha, ha. You’re a fool, you know that? Now, before I let you on your way, where might the rest of the Order be in Swarm?”

The woman leaned against the opposite wall, trying not to lose balance.

“I—uh—the temple! Our leaders have a temple here, in Hive.”

The temple who’s keepers he’s already slaughtered.

“That’s it?”

She vigorously nodded. “Y-yes! I apologize. I realized now that we should’ve created more temple in your name. I promise I will—

Herobrine waved a hand in annoyance. “Stop.” There’s no use returning to the temple; it’s been cleared out by now. A long sigh escaped his lips.

Fearing for the worse, the cultist said something she knew she shouldn’t have said.

“W-wait! I know that—that the Order also resides in other places.”

“Which is?”

“It’s still in Swarm, but I-I don’t know, I mean I haven’t visited there in a while so directions are somewhat—”

“Speak clearly.”

That look on her face screamed terror. Herobrine could almost laugh.

“It’s the village of Amber! My lord, please, you know the Order believes it best for our whereabouts to remain secret. I’m —I’m sure that if you have a message, I would gladly deliver it for you.”

“And where is Amber? How stupid to deny your god to see his followers.” Herobrine took a few steps down, closer. “You are all the same.” 

Balls of fire lit the air around him.

“A goddamned nuisance. I should kill you here and now.” He eyed the cultists as she backed into a corner, curled in on herself. All there was in her eyes were reflections of fire.

“But I won’t. You’ve given me a name— Amber —and that's a meal compared to the crumbs your kind has given thus far.” The fire extinguished into whiffs of smoke. “Now, leave.”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord!” Not a second later, she picked herself up, and did her best to not trip down the stairs.

Herobrine turned his attention to something else. That enchanted book and its crumbled pages still laid dangerously on the floor, seething. Easy enough work, though, Herobrine waved a hand to dispel the magic.

Nothing happened. He tried again, brushing a hand over its cover as if clearing away dust. Again it failed to work; he could still see the colors shining from between its pages.

“I said dissolve!”

And the magic did along with something else.

It sounded like someone threw water against the walls a couple flights below. 

Herobrine sucked in a breath as a burning sensation coursed down his spine. He clasped a hand over his mouth. The entity wouldn’t dare look at the scene a couple stairs below. No, it wasn’t because the walls had a new paint job, nor was it the lingering red mist and lack of a cultist. 

Whispers emerged from deep within Herobrine’s “soul”.

It’s been so long you know?

You should relax.

The clock is ticking!

Finally, some fun!

Quiet!

And just like that, no more whispers. But, Herobrine was only delaying the inevitable. He had just lost control over his powers, and things would only spiral downward from here. Either he sheds away the Order’s curse, or he loses himself.

Chapter Text

Despite having to pick up litter around the stands, Steve rarely took his eyes off the rink.

“OVERTIME! Players, take your positions!”

As if there was even enough ice left for positions. The field had been decimated by the scythe- wielding skaters. Jagged holes littered the field, and a wide crevice almost divided it in half. 

Some players leapt to reach their positions. The blades of their sticks were enchanted to dig into ice as if they were sand, and with enough precision, patches of the rink would collapse into the pit below. Occasionally, a player—Kai— would fancifully twirl their scythes to excite the crowd. 

A referee dressed in protective gear placed a whistle in his mouth. A sharp FWEET and the audience and the rink came to life.

The players sped across the ice at dangerous speeds, kicking up pulverized ice at every turn. They leap over the holes and tears in the ice, careful not to lose balance. Due to it being overtime, both teams were allowed their scythes. Two minutes were set on the clock, and both teams were left with 3 players each.

Kai, pursued by an opponent from the Realm of Aether, dragged her scythe on the ground behind her. This weakened the ice enough for the other skater to slow their speed. 

On the other side of the rink, a Swarm player finally caught up to their prey. The opponent was caught by surprise as a flash of purple and yellow intercepted their path. Wind swept across their faces. With one powerful swing, the floor collapsed from under the Aether player’s foot. Off balanced, they tried to grab onto the edges of the pit but nevertheless missed.

“YES!” Steve was completely ignoring his work at this point, choosing to watch along with the crowd.

Three to two. 

The remaining two Aether players broke away from their chase. 

“Huh?” Kai looked behind. Her opponents had chosen to target one of her Swarm teammates. “Shit!”

With a twist of her foot, Kai performed a sharp right turn. Ice sprayed into the stands.

No amount of twisting or turning allowed the second Swarm player to outmaneuver their pursuers. Sweat dripped down their faces. Quickly approaching the enormous crevice spanning the rink, the player jumped at the very last second. But, as if in slow motion, they realized their mistake. The ground gave away the second they landed. 

Gloved hands quickly gripped against the ice. For a moment, they held on tight. That was until a scythe cut cleanly through the ledge.

Half of the crowd booed. Thirty seconds left.

Invigorated by the cheer from their supporters, the Aether players collected together again; this time, their sights set on Kai.

Like predators and prey, a desperate chase was performed across the ice. Twisting and turning. Accelerating and decelerating–all to avoid falling into the pit below.

Steve couldn’t help but be impressed by these people’s stamina. 

Kai, gasping for air, saw her teammate in the distance. They waved their scythe in some kind of circular motion. 

She got the hint. Mustering the last bit of energy, Kai skated in a wide loop, just barely touching the edges of the rink. An Aether player attempted to cut her off by slicing a wide gash across the ice. 

Kai jumped… and almost tripped onto the other side. She was quickly approaching the other Swarm player. They held their scythe low, tapping the ground.

Fifteen seconds.

Twisting her hips, Kai faced her opponents while skating backwards. She swung her scythe, but the holes it made were easily avoided. She was slowing down from exhaustion.

Ten seconds.

Her teammate stabbed their scythe into an untouched spot in the rink. They repositioned themselves, as if ready to pull a massive lever.

Nine… eight…

They pulled on the scythe with their full weight, and a piercing CRACK sounded through the arena. The cracks connected to nearby holes. 

Seven… six…

There was a second when all four players stood within reach of each other. Kai ahead. The other Swarm player in the middle. And the two Aether players behind.

Five… four…

The weakened ice finally gave away. The ground shattered and sunk from below the players, spreading out like a web. 

Three… two…

Swarm fell first, then two of Aether’s.

One…

One of Swarm’s players pressed herself against the barrier of the rink. She had tossed away the scythe in exchange for balance. Kai had maybe half a meter of ice to stand on because before her was a gaping pit.

Steve stood on the sidelines, speechless, while the crowd erupted into overwhelming shouts and cheers. Those from the Realm of Aether could only stare in shock. No one heard the announcers declare Swarm as this Game’s Spleef champion. Who needed too anyway?

Steve could only wave to Kai before she was whisked away on the shoulders of her teammates, cheering.

People filtered out from the stands as day 1 of the Games wrapped up. On the rink, workers chipped away at what’s left of the field. With a large white sack in hand, Steve continued his duties of litter picking along with the other custodians.

The sun was setting into the orange horizon, and shadows of the floating isles stretched across Hive city below. The last few stragglers, Steve included, boarded the final departing zeppelins.

Someone touched his shoulder.

“Busy day?” It was unsurprisingly Herobrine, visible now. “I know that I have much to share.”

The younger man took a sniff in Herobrine’s direction and wrinkled his nose. “You smell like iron?”

The entity made a face that said “do you really want to know”. Steve realized that he did not, but Herobrine continued anyway.

“I did not realize that mortals can be so easily vaporize.”

“OK. Okay. We’ll talk on the ship.”

This vessel was relatively small compared to the others. Redstone cores powered it, and it simply contained a control room and a cabin for its passengers. Crew members heaved the boarding ramp into the entrance as they prepared for lift off.

It smelled like old furniture here. Wooden chairs were arranged haphazardly in the passenger cabin, and Steve took the first one closest to the windows that wrapped the circumference of the cabins. 

Herobrine took a seat nearby. With Steve in his white uniform, the two men looked a little less identical. Eventually, they started to converse as the airship began its descent into the city.

“So, the Order told her not to come here, but she did anyway to prove something.” Steve brushed his chin in contemplation. “Does this happen a lot? Cultists doing their own things?”

“It is not rare. The Order tightly regulates its members, but instances like these will always slip through. And that cultist certainly wasn’t any high-level member.”

The Spleef games had completely distracted Steve. While he was cheering for Kai, Herobrine prevented the whole building from being demolished. Then again, his job was to blend in.

Steve shuffled his chair closer to the window and gazed downward. “Okay. So, the Order has some common sense to not mess with anything that can retaliate. But they’re still bold enough to pull something like the bridge.”

Herobrine slowly nodded.

“I guess that’s a good thing for now. But either way they need to be stopped as soon as possible.” Steve diverted his eyes to Herobrine now. The entity sat quite still with his arms crossed. 

“The cultist said Amber village,” Steve remarked. “I don’t think I’ve been there before. It must be far out from the city, but I can probably get a map of the Realm from Alex. From there, we’ll just take a detour from the Games.”

“Mhm.”

The lack of response just made Steve confused. Why had the other said he wanted to share information, but now, barely engaging? Maybe the Overworld was putting him in a mood.

Steve tucked his hands into his pockets and continued staring out the window. In the background were the rhythmic thuds of the propellers and quiet conversations. They were halfway to the landing zone, an open patch of field in the city, so this awkward silence between the two men shouldn’t last much longer.

The entity began to slouch into his seat, and his legs were more stretched out in front. His shoulders relaxed though his arms remained crossed.

He spoke in a lighthearted tone, “How was the Spleef game? Did you have fun?”

Stunned by the sudden response, Steve replied, “Uh, yeah. It was an intense match.”

“That’s nice. I was disappointed to have not seen it. Though I suppose I had some ‘fun’ as well.”

“You did?”

“Imploding that mortal was quite interesting. I wonder if I can do it again.” Herobrine smiled and leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees. His eyes have become half-lidded as if he was half-asleep. “What do you think?”

“Excuse me?”

This was so… out of character. Steve felt every muscle in his body becoming on edge. His eyes diverted to the other passengers lounging in the cabin, suddenly fearful for their lives. 

He responded in a hushed tone, “I… I think doing that would not be a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It’s messy. We’re pretty confined here.”

“You make a good point.” 

A subtle, but sharp, snap sounded from the window next to Herobrine. Steve felt his heart drop as he saw the diagonal crack on the glass. 

“Wait!” Steve tried his best to think of something. “Did that cultist say anything else that’s useful? Like where she got that spellbook? Or—”

“Stolen from her elders, though I wished I had let it go off.” The entity sighed in annoyance. “I have better things to do than this mission. Only the universe knows what I am doing here. Especially with you.”

He stands up and looks down at Steve with amusement. As he spoke, there was distortion in his voice. “I really dragged a mortal along with me, didn’t I? Well, not truly mortal.” 

His bandaged hand reached out toward the human’s neck.

“What about you is making me so tolerant? So passive?” 

Steve’s breathing had become unsteady. He was already taking note of what’s in his inventory.

A black gradient enveloped the tips of the Herobrine’s fingers. They began to close around their prey, and Steve could feel the cold emanating from his skin.

“Well?”

“…stop,” was all the human could say.

Surprisingly, he does. Herobrine retracted his arm, and there was confusion on his face. He took a step back and sat back down.

Though the other man was physically fine, Steve still touched the side of his neck. He was afraid to speak.

A moment passed where the two men just breathed, getting their thoughts sorted.

Then the door to the control room opened, and the captain announced, “Everyone, prepare for landing!”

Steve’s gaze returned to Herobrine. He swallowed and made a desperate expression of what the fuck was that?

A twitch of Herobrine’s eyes said all there was to be said.

“I can walk on my own.”

“No,” Steve barked back. “I’m going to walk us home, and make sure you don’t fucking kill someone.”

After the adrenaline wore off and they had deboarded the airship, an incredible sense of frustration and urgency took hold of Steve. Through countless streets and alleyways, the young man led the way while holding Herobrine’s wrist.

It was night. The few businesses open now are taverns and brothels. This was made known by the drunkards passed out on cobblestone pavement. The light from street oil lamps illuminated their path, and Steve was taking them through A LOT of suspicious shortcuts.

As they crossed over the arch of a waterway, Herobrine finally decided to pull his hand free, much to Steve’s dismay.

 “If you’re going to explain what happened back there, do it later.”

Herobrine shook his head. “I would rather it be now without your friend around. Look, I understand what I did was unexpected…”

Steve immediately gestured with his hand, making an inch of space between his thumb and index. 

“This close. You were still close to killing me.”

“I wanted to kill you?”

“Was you aiming for my neck not a clear enough sign?” Steve retorted. “Before that, you suggested combusting the other passengers!” 

“Combust? I swore it was…” Herobrine dismissed the thought. “Never mind. I believe you.”

The other man was baffled. “You talk like you weren’t even there.”

“I wasn’t.”

Movement in the distance caught Herobrine’s attention. Just around the corner of the street, two men emerged. One was slurring their words, and the other supported him with his shoulder.

“Damnit, it told you to cut back on the liquor!”

“Ssshhut the ffffuck up man and take me home.” He looked as if ready to black out.

The duo staggered their way towards the waterway, in the direction of Herobrine and Steve. The sober one caught sight of the two.

“Ah, excuse me! Mine helping us? This guy here wasted himself, and I don’t think I can drag his ass home.”

They approached, so Herobrine dimmed his eyes until they looked “normal”.

“Please, sir.” The man begged again. “I’ll even exchange some coins for the help.”

Although the request was directed at Herobrine, Steve spoke up.

“I’m sorry, but we’re in a hurry,” he said.

Just then, the drunkard gagged and started to slip from the other person’s grip.

“Use your feet idiot!” The man struggled to lift the weight of a whole person, and Steve was forced to step in before his head hit the pavement.

“Woah, okay, I got you.” The drunk man’s arm now slung over Steve’s shoulder.

“Uuugh, thanks. I *hick* owe you… BIG time.”

This guy was a few inches taller than Steve, so it wasn’t like he had a much easier time carrying him. Noticing this, Herobrine made a give it here gesture.

“Be my guest.” As Steve handed off the stranger like a sack of potatoes, he whispered, “At least pretend he’s heavy.”

The sober one seemed content with how things turned out. “This way, sirs. And I gotta thank you again.”

The group made their way through the darkened city. Moonlight shone where there were no lampposts, and the sound of flowing waters filled the silence. Along with the clouds, the islands were silhouettes in the sky.

They’ve been walking for over twenty minutes, and they even passed the street where Alex’s home resided. The group had cut through multiple alleys to make this trip shorter. At least, that’s what their guide told them.

The sober one was ahead, leading the way. Herobrine was at the back with the other man who seemed more conscious now, and Steve was in the middle.

They entered a passageway that’s built through a row of homes. The ceiling was low enough that Steve could touch it if he jumped.

In his mind, Herobrine wondered to himself.

Aren’t humans supposed to smell of alcohol when they’re like this?

“Sirs, I appreciate your help. But I can take it from here.”

At that moment, Herobrine felt something impact his rib. The tip of a dagger sank not even an inch into his skin. Its wielder, no longer feigning drunk, stood dumbfounded. 

He tried stabbing again; Herobrine caught it by the blade. 

“Again? Really?” The lord of chaos was beyond unimpressed.

“Shit!”

The commotion from behind alerted Steve. And just in time he dodged an axe aimed at his face. Their “guide” pointed his weapon at Steve.

“You. Get on the ground,” his voice was crude. “We’re not here for you.”

As if that made Steve feel any better. He summoned the netherite sword and held it on guard.

His opponent backed off, irritated. “That friend of yours has been causing a lot of trouble. Do you know that? We’re here to keep him in check.”

Steve quickly glanced at Herobrine and realized the case of mistaken identity.

“Heh, alright then. He’s all yours.” The sword disappeared, and Steve ducked as a body flung over his head.

The two men crashed into the ground, eventually sliding to a stop.

“Ugh, what the fuck…” The axe bearer shoved the other man off. “Hey, hey get up. Get up!”

He frantically shakes the other, then screams in horror to see his companion’s head twisted too far back. In a pathetic attempt to escape, he struggled to his feet and ran for the end of the passage.

Before Steve could get up, a gust of wind blew past him. Much too quickly, Herobrine closed the gap between him and his target. He opened his palm, took a step forward, and shoved the human.

In short, it was a mess. In greater detail, before their attacker had even hit the pavement, his body disintegrated into a fine red mist. Large globules of guts splattered onto the walls, the ground, onto Herobrine, and, unfortunately, Steve who shielded his face.

Drip… drip… drip… 

Blood felt from the ceiling like rain.

Steve’s chest was heaving, and his mind tried to keep up with the gore he just witnessed. 

The entity flicked excess blood from his arms. He grimaced from the stickiness of the red on him.

“Ugh, what a mess.” He returned to Steve and held out his hand.

Steve hesitantly took it, though regretted it once he realized just how wet Herobrine’s hand was. “God damnit, you could’ve pushed the guy into the open first.” He got up, looked at himself and realized he’d have to get a new work uniform. “Actually, please. No more exploding–imploding–whatever the hell that was.”

Herobrine laughed at the other’s disgust. “Hah, I agree. There are more efficient ways of putting them down anyway.”

They simultaneously turned to the one with his neck snapped.

“So, we agree those were cultists?” said Steve.

“Absolutely.” The entity held up a patch of bloody fabric that he had torn off upon impact. The symbol of the Second Order embellished it. “They mistook me for you and look where that got them. Perhaps, you should consider a permanent change in attire.”

“Me? Why not you?”

“I’ve had this look for ages, Steve. It’s quite essential to my image. You know the myths.”

“Your image right now is bloody red.” The young man playful pushed the entity. Of course, he doesn’t even budge.

It was late, and Alex was not home yet. This gave the two men enough time to discuss the airship situation.

Steve changed into clean clothes, and Herobrine… Well, he was covered in gore one second and completely clean the next. Steve decided to question that later. He sat on the bed and expectantly stared at Herobrine who decided he’d rather sit on the floor.

“Back there, you looked like you. But, I don’t know, you sounded like a whole other person.”

“Would you believe me if I said that was true? This is the Overworld corruption I spoke of.” 

Steve raised a brow. “The chaos deity has a split personality. I kind of thought that when we first met.”

“No, not split.” Herobrine corrected. “Recall yourself before Respawn, Steve. Tell me, were you the same person before as you are now? What about shortly after Respawn and you reveled in its power. Are you still that person?”

Steve was surprised. “No, well, I tried not to… no. No, I’m not.”

“But you still possess memories of that person despite the passing of time.” Herobrine lit a small ball of fire above his palm. It danced in a circle. “Now, imagine that time condensed into a fraction of a second that you can't even comprehend. In a second, you evolve into another person, but you don’t remember how.”

The flame turned blue, and Herobrine snuffed it out.

“My previous life’s values and ideals can mean nothing to me in an instant. I have memories made by someone else. That’s who you spoke to, Steve.”

The younger man rubbed his knuckles, trying to digest this wealth of information Herobrine shared. 

“So, that was someone who you used to be,” he mused.

“Yes.”

“But they died the moment you became… you?”

“Well, I do not really keep track of who came after who. There are far too many lives. Though, I do know some of my past lives did not give into ‘death’ so peacefully.”

“Something wrong with them?”

Herobrine let out a dry chuckle. “They can get restless when given the chance. For example, one decided to straight up kill you once they had control.”

Took control.

“But what happened to you ?”

“I get pushed into the depths of my soul with all the other restless lives. You remember how loud they can get.”

Oh. Steve let himself fall back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “My Respawn and your… what do you call it?”

“All my past lives had called it Revival.”

“So, Respawn and Revival. We’re some fucked up sides of a coin, huh?”

“Well, I’m naturally like this. You brought fuckery upon yourself at some point.” With that response, Herobrine caught a pillow in the face.

“Go to hell.” Half laughing, an exasperated Steve fully settled onto the bed. “And go do whatever’s your version of sleeping.”

Chapter Text

Sleep?

How Steve managed to sleep after witnessing a human pop like a balloon was a mystery. 

Mortals were fond of sleeping Herobrine knew that much. Their bodies cannot exist without it, and lacking even a few nights could have consequences. He also knew that mortals dreamt. Although they looked unconscious—dead almost, their minds were experiencing a whole universe. Their mind’s eye could see a jumble of memories, hopes, and fears in just one night.

Fears, Herobrine knew, led to nightmares. And that was what he was looking at right now.

Steve laid flat on his back; a blanket loosely draped over his lower half. The creases under his eyes and twitches of his hand spoke of distress. His chest quickly rose and fell like that of a cornered animal. Mainly like one that knows its impending doom. 

The voices began to sing.

You know, one began to suggest, our host is quite vulnerable. Will he even feel the Respawn while asleep?

Maybe.

Mortals must love their nightmares. Why else would they have it so often?

I suppose.

I’m sure that we were the cause of plenty of bad dreams.

“Oh, I’m sure I was,” Herobrine whispered aloud.

He never liked entertaining his past lives, but he learned the hard way that suppression only makes them worse. They were like a riptide, pulling him from his isle of consciousness. 

Don’t fight them , Herobrine reminded himself, but don’t lose sight of the isle either. He flexed his fingers to remind himself that this was him. He wasn’t some past life that refuses to let go.

Just then, Steve murmured in his sleep. 

“… get home.”

Smiling, Herobrine stood up from beside the bed to stretch. “Heh, I like that as well.”

The next morning, despite the ongoing Games, the two men decided it’ll be best to follow their lead in the Village of Amber. Steve couldn’t lie that he was not a little disappointed to detour from the Games. Hopefully, the managers there wouldn’t notice a custodian missing.

“So I checked the maps,” Steve reported from the dining table, “Amber is to the west, and it doesn’t look like a big settlement.” He traced his finger from the little dot marked Amber and all the way into Hive. “Seems like a long trip.”

Hoping to reorganize his inventory, Steve had dispensed some vials of potions onto the table. They clinked against one another as the young man scooch them to make space.

Floating a couple feet in the air, Herobrine sat crisscrossed while staring pensively at the table. He could both see and sense the dim magic emanating from the vials. Even if they were tucked away in Steve’s inventory, he could still tell that the other possessed some kind of magic. This led to his current musings. 

“Where is your friend?”

“Who, Alex?” Steve swallowed his last bite of bread. “That early bird is off to work.”

“And where is that?”

The other shrugged. He was never keen on digging into Alex’s business, neither does she care to share. “She does some things here and there. Mainly inter-Realm trade. Why’d you ask?”

Herobrine shook his head. “Nevermind. I was merely curious.”

Ever since they met Alex at the Festival, he had sensed magic from her. It wasn’t constant like the potions but rather emanated itself periodically. Herobrine dismissed it as some hybrid-redstone device she could be carrying.

He stood back on the ground and made his way toward the table where the map of Swarm lay exposed. Herobrine’s eyes quickly found the route connecting Hive and Amber. “Due west you say? I’m sure that I can estimate the distance.”

“I already have. It’s about three days by horse.”

To that, Herobrine seemed quite pleased. “Ah, then this shall make the trip much easier for the both of us.”

Steve shot up from the chair.

It took a second for him to realize what the entity was suggesting. “Now? When you can’t even control your powers? God damnit, let’s just take the horses.”

“I know my limits.” Herobrine asserted. “Teleportation is as natural as walking is to mortals. Surely you can withstand a few trips.”

They appeared mid-air. Steve tumbled onto the grass with a groan, while Herobrine expertly landed on his feet. Around them were miles and miles of wild plains.

“Damn, I underestimated.” Herobrine cracked his knuckles. “Hang on.”

But what was there to hang onto? The earth disappeared from under Steve, and his back hit a rough gravel road. 

“Ugh…”

“A road. This is a good sign. How much do you wager that the village is ahead?” He doesn’t wait for Steve to respond before teleporting once more.

…mooo…

A pasture. They landed in the middle of a herd of cows who simultaneously lifted their heads upon the two men’s arrival. In the distance resided a clump of cozy abodes. The homes were of aged stone and wood that contrasted the busy city-feel of Hive. It reminded Steve of the countryside residents of the Outer Realms.

From the ground, he waved for Herobrine’s attention. “Stop... Give me… give me a minute. Oh gods I can’t see straight.”

In Steve’s vision, the gray sky and clouds spun around and around. Every time he tried to push himself up, his whole world would tilt. Steve gave up after face planting for the third time.

Mooo…

“There is no one here.” Herobrine looked towards their destination. “It’s too quiet.”

“Maybe… they’ve all gone to see the Games?” Steve suggested from the ground. “I know I would’ve. Wouldn’t be surprised if all of Swarm is at Hive.”

Once the world stopped spinning for Steve, the two made their way towards the village, following a dirt road. Empty wagons rested here and there, and the doorways to many of the homes remained open. Smoke rose from chimneys, and horses were leashed to posts. Steve occasionally caught the curious eyes of stray cats. This place couldn’t be that desolated, even if it was in the middle of nowhere. The signs of human activity were obviouly there, but where are the—

DING… DONG! DING… DONG!

Both men perked up with interest.

And as they followed the tolls of the belltower, the reality became clear that something’s happening. Whatever it was, Steve’s gut told him to leave.

Rounding the corner of what looked like a smithy, they saw it. A gathering of a couple hundred men, women, children, everybody encircling the church. They mostly kept quiet, but a few whispered to one another in dismay. Others got tired of standing around so they sat.

Steve tried to approach for a better look, but he felt Herobrine tug the collar of his shirt. 

“What? Did you see something?” 

Herobrine was focusing on the crowd of people. He had the look of someone eavesdropping on the room next door.

His voice was low. “I’ve seen this before. I think a visitor, an important one, is drawing their attention. They’re saying…” Herobrine’s acute hearing picked up the smallest conversations, “ If the priestess is right…we’ll be seeing… great fortune this month.”

“Priestess. Some sort of spiritual gathering then.” Steve suggested.

Herobrine continued to repeat the crowd’s mumblings. “ Did the mayor expect her? I thought someone like that visited a couple weeks ago. Don’t get why all of us have to be here.”

The entity stiffened as he reported the next words, “ Maybe, for once, we get some good news from the Order. ”

The Second Order.

There was no hesitation. Herobrine stepped out from behind the building, and a bright blue inferno engulfed his arm.

Despite the superheated air, Steve grabbed him by his non-fiery arm and pulled the entity back. “Hey, look at me—look at me! You can’t just incinerate them!”

“I can.” Herobrine snapped. Both heat and rage rolled off him. 

Despite this, Steve huffed, “I—I know. But think about it. Kill the cultists now and lose the only lead we have. Keep them alive, then who knows what else we’ll find.”

Aside from those obvious reasons, there was something else. Steve found himself glancing at the church, conflicted. The people there looked so… normal. All of them were probably going about their day before being called here. They didn’t remind Steve of the maniac cultist at the bridge nor the two attackers from last night. He couldn’t imagine any of them rooting for world destruction. Maybe they believe in that ideology, but would they resort to violence?

Does this village truly know the Order they speak of?

“Let’s just wait,” Steve pleaded to Herobrine, “and see what else is there.”

The latter’s expression shifted, as if he was suddenly aware.

“Alright.” Herobrine said with a breath. “We’ll wait.” The flames died. 

As Steve turned to observe the church once more, he heard the other mumble ‘can’t think straight’ . 

Steve could tell. Herobrine looked as if ready to crack under the Overworld’s pressure.

A sudden commotion from the crowd drew the two men’s attention. With everyone shifting about, it wasn’t easy to tell what happened. But from what Steve could make out, someone had exited the double door entrance of the church. 

They stood somewhat hunched, likely because of age. A black shawl draped over their shoulders and down to the ends of their heavy white dress. She motioned for the crowd to quiet down. And they did by kneeling. Now, over everyone’s heads, Steve saw exactly who this visitor was. 

It was her. The witch who ‘tried to save his soul’. Who overpowered him with magic. Who put Steve through fourteen days of torturous preaching right under Hive’s temples. It was her. There was no mistake.

Steve almost laughed at this opportunity. That same urge which drove Herobrine to lash out was now possessing him. “You said that you killed everyone that day.”

Herobrine scoffed, “As if I memorize the faces of my victims. I guarantee you that she was not there. Better yet, why didn't you tell me the witch took you?”

“You know her?”

“Too much.” Herobrine crossed his arms. “She has met me and escaped far too many times.”

“You don’t think she knows a thing about this… anti-Nether curse?” 

The moment Steve suggested it, the entity’s eyes flickered as if a light bulb turned on. 

“We’re going in. Do not let go.” Herobrine took Steve’s hand, and invisibility enveloped the two. He quickly dragged Steve along without another word, the latter trying not to trip.

They couldn’t see each other. However, Steve could feel, on Herobrine’s hand, the residual heat from those flames. 

Into the open they went, stopping once they reached the edge of the kneeling crowd. Everyone waited in anticipation for what came next. Their heads lifted up, ready to receive the news.

Despite her frail appearance, the witch’s voice carried command. 

“Amber! For years, I and the rest of the Order have watched you grow into the people you are now. Your faith is no small feat, for it takes every bit of dedication to reach the prophesied new world.”

She turned to another section of the crowd. “The rest of the Realm’s people, like those at Hive, ignore the truth we all know. They heckle us. Call us simple dreamers. And I know some of our fellows today still question if the new world is truly just a dream.” 

She raised her voice even more. “To them, I pray only for the best! Because the time will come when everyone who walked the Realms should see peace delivered by the Fire-bringer. Peace in a world where all that’s been lost is regained.”

The people erupted into noise. Hear-hear! They all shouted. The witch received joyous cheers and claps from her listeners. The fervent energy in the air fueled their devotion.

Steve watched on in uncomfortable silence. He could already imagine Herobrine’s face of contempt. All the cheering must be like an ear-grating noise to him. In fact, he could feel the other’s grip tighten.

After the praise of good faith, the priestess followed up with the latest news from the Order. It involved things like how other followers are doing in other Realms, how leaders like herself were spreading the word, and, most importantly, the omens that foretold the New World. Omens that were vague enough to be subjected to any phenomenon. With the right twisting of words, they could mean anything.

Steve furrowed his brow in disbelief. 

“Really? I can think of seven times when I saw the earth dancing with fire or the light falling from the sky. ” His long life had its perks.

Herobrine chuckled, “I’ve even purposefully fulfilled some of these ‘prophecies’ just to get a reaction.”

The witch began to share fortunes as well, some directed at the whole village, some at families, at certain jobs, and even individuals. Once she exhausted the last of her words, she bowed to the crowd as if the last two hours were some performance. Of course, to the two invisible men, it certainly was a sight.

The old woman wrapped the shawl tighter around herself and retreated back into the church. The wooden doors slammed shut.

All around, the village people began to disperse. They spoke with one another of all the news they heard and of what to do for the rest of the day.

“I can’t believe I got a fortune!” one squealed with excitement.

“See? I told ya’ we’re doing things right. Paradise might come in our lifetime!”

“Ah, Mary! How’s the family doing? Are your girls still studying in the city?”

“Welp, I’ll be tending the horses if you boys wanna join in.”

“Mooom, my knees hurt from sitting so long.”

“Seems like this season’s harvest is coming earlier than we thought.”

With so many moving about, it was difficult to not bump into someone. So, the two decided to leave unseen with the crowd. 

As they walked, Herobrine asked the other, “So. Anything you noticed?”

“What’s there to say?” Steve sarcastically replied. Then, more seriously, he added, “She never called you by name.”

That’s what the Order left out. Seems like all this talk of a new world had nothing to do with bringing Herobrine into the Overworld. The god this village knew was simply some “fire-bringer”. For how could Paradise be ruled by a lord of chaos? If these villagers saw what Steve saw and knew what he knew, they’d be driven mad.

Though, would Steve want them to know the truth? Because, in a strange way, he doesn’t. The humble village that these people—and the Order—have fostered was undoubtedly prosperous. There was a calming sensation just from watching the people talk about their day…Normalcy! That’s what it was. It filled their day-to-day lives in a way that made Steve envious. Because while the Village of Amber did struggle with food, shelter, and stability, he had to deal with death and deathlessness all at the same time. 

“Ignorant fools don’t even know what they’re in for.” Herobrine huffed.

They stopped short before one of the larger buildings. Town Hall was engraved in the dark wood above the entrance. As expected, no one was here yet.

Steve led the way. “C’mon, let's wait in here.”

The Hall reminded him of a library, a small one. Full shelves stood against the white walls. Between the shelves were tall windows, currently covered by wool curtains. Tables for studying were abundant. There were even glass display cases containing items of historic value. 

The air was stuffy and smelled of old books.

The moment Steve closed the door, Herobrine dropped the invisibility and fell to his knees, exhausted.

“Hah… hah… give me a minute.”

As Herobrine recuperated, it dawned on Steve that this hall could hold information on the Order. He sped to the closest display case. An early blueprint of the village laid unfurled.

Written in faint ink, the description read:

FIRST DRAFT (WITH CORRECTIONS) OF VILLAGE OF AMBER. YEAR XXXX.

Steve moved onto the next case. This one read:

PORTRAIT OF FOUNDER ADRIG, YEAR XXXX.

And the next case:

HOLY BOOK OF THE SECOND ORDER.

Now he’s getting somewhere. That thing looked like it was ready to fall apart if not for the twine tying it together. 

Time for the shelves. Pacing through the room, the only sounds were the tap, tap, taps of Steve’s boots against the floor and Herobrine’s labored breathing. 

“Have you… found anything of interest?” The entity got up from the floor. “I won’t be able to hide us should the villagers grow suspicious.”

Through the gaps in the books, Steve made eye contact with Herobrine. “Ugh, no. So far it’s been genealogies, farming records, you know, towns keeping stuff. Maybe the Order hasn’t been around Amber long. But then again that wouldn’t explain this whole place being a cult.” Steve hovered his hand over the dusty spines. “Besides that book, I don’t see anything else.”

Herobrine approached the case, hands clasped behind his back. He looked like a proper museum connoisseur.

“That’s strange. They simply called it the Holy Book . Usually there is a better name for these things.” He lifted off the glass. “Steve. Find something back there to replace this with.”

Steve peaked out from behind the shelves. “They’re going to notice. Just grab it when we leave.”

“I highly doubt it. Have you not seen the state of this book? Doesn’t seem like anybody’s tended to it at all.”

Shaking his head, Steve retorted, “You’d rather commit petty theft before we investigate this place?”

“I’ve committed worse—”

The door creaked.

As if caught at a crime scene, Herobrine slammed the glass case back into place, nearly shattering it. Steve dove back behind the bookshelves, finding a section with the most coverage from whoever just entered the Town Hall. 

“Oh! Good day, you a visitor?” 

Steve peaked through the books.

It was a broad-bellied man who was dressed more formally than the people at the church. A heavy satchel hung over his shoulder, and the layers of his coat and shirt were neatly pressed. His dark beard looked as if it was trimmed this morning. 

Smile reaching his eyes, the man greeted once again, “Sorry to keep you waiting, we all just been busy this morning. Anything I can help you with?”

Facing away, Herobrine still had his hands on the glass. Contemplation was clear across his features. If he talked with this person, Steve knew they'd risk exposing themselves. So what to do?

“Uh, hello!” The young man suddenly stepped out into view. “We really are just visiting. My… brother and I.”

Ignoring Herobrine’s face of are-you-serious , Steve continued, “I assume you’re the mayor?”

“You’re right! I’m Rauno, and you?” He approached with a hand held out.

Steve firmly shook it. 

“Name’s Gideon,” he lied.

“Nice to meet you, Gideon. And you?” Mayor Rauno offered a hand to Herobrine.

Not saying a word, the entity faced the mayor and greeted with a simple nod—his appearance startling the other man.

“He’s mute!” Steve blurted in panic. “Accident with a horse when we’re younger, but he gets around just fine. And his eyes—”

Rauno raised a hand to stop Steve. “It’s alright, Gideon. I know people have ailments and such. Can I ask why you two are visiting our town? We definitely don’t have any tourist attractions! Hah, hah!”

He fashioned a simple excuse. “We’re going to see the Games.”

“Ah, good ol’ Hive. Lived there in my youth. I don’t miss the city but the Games are something else.” He made his way towards the back of the Hall and reshelved some books from his satchel. “You boys hungry? We got a communal lunch going on.”

“We’re fine. Thank you though.”

Herobrine seemed to be content with observing the whole conversation. 

Putting away the last few items, mayor Rauno would glance at Steve once in a while.

“Are you…” Rauno vaguely waved his hand, “do you know the players well? Got a favorite person you’re rooting for?”

Perusing the paintings on the walls, Steve replied, “There’s an upstart Spleef player I heard good things about. What about you?”

The mayor began reminiscing about a time from his youth. He seemed amused by whatever it was.

“Ever heard of Vergil? When my grandfather used to take me to the Games, I made sure to never ever miss an event with that guy in ‘em. He’s retired now but was a menace in Swarm. It was nuts seeing what he can do.”

“ Vergil .” That name was known by Steve all too well. “Some of my friends talked about him. Why’d he retire?”

Up on a ladder, Rauno slid a book back into place. “Well, I think he peacefully retired. Don’t you know about that mystery? Vergil– greatest player of my generation– one day disappeared from the Realms. He left nothin’—not a goodbye to anybody.”

Herobrine walked up to Steve with his head tilted in curiosity.

Do you know this Vergil? Was what Steve guessed from his expression. 

He whispered with a smile, “Do I know myself?” Then louder, he asked the mayor, “And you think he retired? Not kidnapped or whacked?”

“Gods, why do people think the worst?! His teammates all heard him talkin’ about retirement before. If I was Vergil, wanting a quiet life sounds like exactly what I need. This world can be real hectic sometimes. So you gotta make your peace.”

That last part should’ve sounded like good life advice. But knowing what this village was involved with, Steve couldn’t help but hear the teachings of the Order.

As the mayor finished his work, climbing down the ladder, he wondered aloud, “You know you and your brother sort of look like him. If I didn’t know better, Vergil could’ve been your father!”

“You’re kidding,” said Steve, pulling a blank face.

“I’m serious! If you’ve seen Vergil then you’ll say the same! That guy wasn’t short of admirers, I can tell you that.”

Herobrine’s silence almost cracked. His fist clenched so tightly that it could’ve shattered netherite.

“That’s interesting,” said Steve while suddenly uninterested in the topic.

As Herobrine patted the younger man’s back, someone else opened the doors to the Hall. A woman stood with a basket at her hips.

“The priestess needs you at the church,” she said. “Something about her departure.”

Rauno nodded and began to follow her outside. “Well, Gideon, you and your brother enjoy Amber. I’m at the church if you need anything.” 

“We will, and it was nice meeting you.”

Rauno waved goodbye as the door shut behind him.

Through the windows, Steve watched as the two villagers made their way towards the church, no doubt where he and Herobrine were soon heading.

“You were never short of admirers ?” Eyes creased by a shit-eating grin, Herobrine teased, “That fact speaks volumes about both of us.”

“…let’s keep looking around.”

And so they searched every book, every artifact, every shelf…

… every page, every painting, every corner in this place until Steve memorized even the planks on the floor. And what did they find?

“We’re leaving.” He climbed down the shelf ladder. “Let’s just take that goddamn book and go.” The human’s frustration had finally spilled over. Steve tossed a similarly worn book—a decoy—to Herobrine who caught it below.

“Lost your patience already?” White-eyes asked. “I’ve actually learned a great deal of information about this village. Their history may be short, but they’ve been quite prosperous. Apparently, twenty years ago, a pig was elected mayor in order to mock the losing candidate. Can you believe that?”

Sitting on the ground, Herobrine surrounded himself with stacks of text. Two heavy encyclopedias were tucked under his arm, and he was currently reading a volume on the political history of Amber. 

“An eldritch horror who’s also a bookworm…” Steve remarked.

Herobrine doesn’t look up from his readings. “Even I can have hobbies, Steve.”

The younger man recalled the months he used to spend scouring libraries across the Realms. Unfortunately, he always came up with nothing in his pursuits. Right now was an example.

“I’ve flipped through enough pages and scrolls.” 

As they began to leave, the “holy book” was dispensed into Herobrine’s inventory.

Alas, it quickly became clear that all that reading was a form of distraction—something to keep Herobrine’s mind off the growing haziness. He had sweat dripping down his neck. With each step he took, the world seemed to tilt, and he had to reach out to a table for balance. 

“Hah…”

Steve helped to steady him. “Hey, take it easy. You don’t have to come with me.”

The entity frowned. “And let you… deal with… that witch? I think not.”

Corruption be damned, Herobrine needed to see that cultist grounded into the earth. 

The voices reacted to this thought.

Yes! We turn her inside out! Said one excitedly.

I can feel the weight of her head in my hands already. Can’t you?

We can make this last an eternity for her…

Be done with that nuisance already.

Just let us out!

Letting out a breath, Herobrine slowly blinked. He mustered the strength to walk on his own and whispered to Steve, “The church.”

He couldn’t promise that the next few hours would end well.