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Once upon a universe, in a place called the Farthest End, there was a Watcher.
Watchers are like the gods you hear about in stories. They rule over worlds with an iron fist, and control the Code on which they are built. They have white and purple wings on their backs, ears and heels, and wear dark purple cloaks there was way more variety than that.
The most noticeable feature, though, is the eyes. As well as normal, humanoid eyes on the front of their faces like most players, Watchers have false eyes along the top of their wings, from the smalls of their backs to the tips of their feathers and they watch and they watch and they watch. They are closed most of the time, but it is said that when opened, a Watcher can see into the Code of any world it chooses.
Sometimes, if you look into the night sky, you can see them looking down on you in the stars and behind you and above you and in the corners of your eyes.
Usually, though, they live in the furthest parts of the End, past the world border to the east and the west and so far below the endstone islands that not a single player has been there and made it home to tell the tale apart from myself and like five other player-made Watchers out there but you know.
This particular Watcher was named Xelqua no, that’s not my name. He was not entirely like the average Watcher; his wings were bright red and blue and yellow, like a macaw’s— though, in his time, he had never seen one up close, and in any case he dyed them purple to match his peers because I thought that would make them like me, spoiler alert they didn’t. Apart from this, though, he was no different from the others, and the Elders trusted him again, they didn’t.
One day, Xelqua was asked to go on a mission not sent out they forced me to go. There was a world, not unlike ours, that was riddled with strife and destruction it was a normal world. There were players on that world that were gaining power through the Code itself as players usually do, and the young Watcher that had been told to take care of it did not last long trying to hold them back no, she realised what was wrong with this stupid system and ran, like I should have.
So, off he went. Xelqua flew through the thick darkness of the Void— because this far into the End, the only stars left were the other Watchers— over and under and over and under the islands I was never allowed to have that much fun with my flying, until he reached the world border. He opened some of his false eyes and neatly cut tore a hole in the border, before stepping through.
He couldn’t believe what he saw. The players of this world were dangerous they were not dangerous— they had made themselves five, or even ten times bigger than they were supposed to be. They stomped on villages, spawned charged creepers out of thin air with spawn eggs and lightning, and even brought a Warden up from the underground to the surface of the Overworld again, with eggs, like everyone else does. As Xelqua Watched from above, he even saw them filling massive caves, which once contained ores and minerals of all kinds and rarities, with explosives, then lighting them and cackling like witches as the world ticked to a near stop. They were children.
Xelqua knew what he had to do that’s not my bloody name. He opened more of his false eyes, then, before those mad players could see him, used them to dive into the Code of the world.
Most of the Code was left untouched. Xelqua stepped past strings and lines of magic, so slowly it was like he was walking through thick mud. It took hours of searching minutes, thank you so much magic. that was sarcasm, but as he looked deeper, he finally found a section where lines of Code had been torn out, leaving only bits of glitching text behind, and he saw what the players had done.
The Code that was missing was the Code that kept the players mortal. So what they could fly around. It was only for that one little world they’re fine.
Even though Xelqua was trusted by the Elders, he did not know everything about how to fix the Code to how it was before because I was stupid. He closed his false eyes for a few seconds, and soon realised that the players were about to enter the Code again to destroy even more of it. There was no time to return home and ask for help.
Xelqua ran back to the outer edges of the Code, where it connected to the world border. He opened all of his false eyes. Behind him, he saw a player recklessly tear it was a child obviously they didn’t know how to do it properly through the barrier between the Overworld and the Code, then see him. Xelqua sped up.
As soon as he reached the world border, Xelqua cut tore a hole through with my bare hands. He looked around, looking for just one piece of Code he needed— there!
He grabbed the string, then twisted it around his wrist. It wriggled in his fingers like a worm, but Xelqua held it tight. He pulled it once, twice, three times it was not that simple, then it snapped free from the lines above and below it. Quickly, Xelqua jumped out of the hole in the border, then sealed it tight, and dropped the string into the Void as his false eyes shut.
And the world tore apart.
Blocks flickered purple and black in checkered patterns. Chunks deleted and reappeared a hundred blocks higher, and biomes changed with every tick. Mobs stopped moving, and TNT stopped mid-explosion. Torches stopped glowing, and water stopped flowing. The remaining players, who hadn’t left at the first sign, were paused in the middle of their steps, mouths open and eyes staring straight ahead. I think it’s worse that this is accurate. I think this is what happened to my old world
Slowly, the world was overtaken with darkness, then air, then nothing.
Xelqua flew back to the Farthest End, over and under and over and under the islands, back through the thick darkness of the Void, until he made it back home not home never home to the Farthest End, past the world border to the east and the west, so far below the endstone islands that not a single player has been there and lived to tell the tale what did I write earlier.
And Xelqua was satisfied.
And when he went to bed that night, he cried himself to sleep, dread sinking in his gut.