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Hello…my name is Orkiz. I am a Middle School-goer and I write fanfictions. That is all you need to know about me right now. Now, about the story:

This is my second fanficton (I haven't published the first one yet). Right off the bat, I will be hosting an O/C contest. PM me:

-Character's name, age

-Physical description (Height, weight, race, etc.)

-Mental description (Pyro? Insomniac? Ect…)

Do NOT post these on the reviews (although reviews are welcome—if you have an account). If you do, then I will ignore it.

Now, let the story commence.

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Chapter One

Two men, one short and stout, one tall, dark, and brooding, walked down the hall of the dimly lit complex in Thunderhorn.

[~(|)~]

These two men were agents of a secret bureau, a group so secret that only the guy in charge knew the official name of the faction. Everyone else called it just that—the Faction. The Faction had been around since the early-to-mid 2010's, created by a mysterious figure from the planet Earth. They had been researchers at first—scientists who moved, lived, and died in the shadows of society. They had been researchers, all, except for ten of them—ten of a thousand, the man's bodyguards. Those bodyguards were there when the first experiment succeeded, when the Faction finally was able to build a Nether portal. They were present when the Faction first met a Blaze and tried to make contact with it.

Needless to say, it didn't work. The inexperienced Leader attempted to give the Blaze a bucket of water, assuming that it might be thirsty in this God-forsaken hell . The Blaze saw this as a direct attack and uttered one of its blood-curdling screams, going on the offensive, and the man with the water was the first to go. Blazes arrived by the thousands, attracted by what would forevermore be called The Scream and the bodyguards were outnumbered a thousand to one by strange, immortal beings. The Faction did what any group of people would do: they fled.

They fled across the netherrack and netherquartz and all the other things you can step on in the Nether. They fled from their nearest terror: The Blaze Army. When they returned to the Overworld, the bodyguards were angry, at themselves and at the world. They put the diamond swords against their necks and were about to do it, but the scientists stopped them. They begged the Leader's Guard not to kill themselves, and instead teach some of them how to fight. So they did, on the terms that the Leader's name and likeness be voided from the Overworld for all time. Now 87 years later, the numbers of the Faction stand at over ten thousand of the Army and five thousand Researchers.

[~(|)~]

At the Faction Homequarters in Thunderhorn, the two figures of men skulk down the dimly lit hallway and silently slink to a door labeled "Interrogation Z." Next to the door is a keypad, and a speaker. "Go ahead, John. Let us in." After letting the button go, the heavy iron door opens to reveal a tiny, cramped room holding a small table and three chairs, with a tall, lanky, Caucasian boy who could be no older than thirteen. "Orkiz?" asks the tall man, pulling out a clipboard and reading some stuff off, almost as if it was a grocery list. "Yes," says the boy warily, in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Son, do you have any idea why you're here?" asked the shorter one.

"Does this have anything to do with the brewing stand I may or may not have crafted out of stolen blaze rods?" This makes the short man look at the taller one in an angered manner.

"We'll look into that," says he, making a note, "meanwhile, do you recall your activities from your life on Earth?"

"Of course I do! That was where I stole the blaze rods in the first place!"

"Really…Well, do you remember experimenting with the End portal?" At this, the boy immediately clams up. "I won't tell you jack," he mumbles.

"That's all fine and well…I guess we'll just leave you here until you feel otherwise, huh, Kaleb?"

"That's right, Lukas," says the shorter man, Kaleb, as he walks out the iron door behind Lukas.

[~(|)~]