Minecraftia is under threat. The Creepers, led by their Queen, are planning to destroy everything the Minecrafters have made, and take over the land. There are only two who could lead Minecraftia into battle with the Creepers, the legendary wizard Antrij, who dissapeared into the heart of Minecraftia aeons ago, and the chosen one, as foretold in the prophecies of Ender. The Second Great Minecraft War, the largest fight since Anrtij's time, with the Minecrafters, Wolves and Ocelots fighting against the Zombies, Spiders, Skeletons, Endermen and the dreaded Creepers to save Minecraftia...
John Kellahakhiin polished his sword. He knew he would be fighting within days. His wolf Buster barked at his feet, clearly itching to fight. John sighed as he thought about the times of war approaching. The Minecrafters were doomed to failure; King Halliikwoorn was a good leader, but only two could ever finally end this: Antrij was probably never to surface again, and this chosen one had never shown. However, it was prophecised by Ender himself that the chosen one would rise when Minecraftia needed him the most. John only wished that this chosen one.
Mike genuinely had no idea how he had ended up on this beach. Last thing he remembered... he didn't remember. The only thing he remembered was his name, his gender and the fact he had a strong British accent. Aside from that, Mike was as ignorant as a blind fish. Mike looked around.
"What the hell is this?" he asked himself.
He went up to a tree, and started punching it. Only way he could think of to get wood. After messing about with logs, planks, benches and sticks, he finally had what appeared to be a pickaxe. He started walking over to some stone with black bits in it. He guessed it was coal, and he appeared to be right. He placed the coal on top of a stick, and it created a torch. Mike was happy, and he continued walking.
"Hey! Up here!"
Mike turned as he heard a voice. A man in leather clothes carrying a white sword was waving to him. Mike climbed up the small hill and he met the man.
"Who are you?" asked Mike.
"I'm Alex Keemaantriick. You?"
"Mike Krafter."
"Where have you come from?"
"I don't know. Where are you?"
Alex suddenly froze. No, it couldn't be. The prophecies of Ender foretold the chosen one would appear on the beach, at a time of great need by the Minecrafters. But here?
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Errrr, you alright mate?"
Alex's only reaction was this:
"Oh my god."
King Halliikwoom looked at the man brought before him. He looked to be a pretty simplye guy, and he obviously had no idea what the heck was going on.
"Mr Keemaantriick, thank you for your assistance. You may leave now."
"Yes, sire." Alex walked out of the room.
Mike looked around. It was very large and clearly for someone of extremely high importance, in this case.
"What did you say your name was again?" asked Halliikwoom.
"Mike Krafter, sire."
"Oh no, call me Mark. You are the chosen one."
"Can I ask you a question please?"
"Fire away."
"What in the living hell is going on here."
The king laughed.
"Mike, this is Minecraftia. The prophecies of Ender foretell a chosen one who appears from nowhere at a time of great need for all Minecrafters."
"Wait, hold on. My name, Mike-Krafter. Mikekrafter. Minecrafter." Mike paused. "Holy..."
"You must be the chosen one. The Creepers are threatening us. If we don't stop them, then they will destroy everything we have sustained."
"No pressure."
"You are the chosen one Mike. You must do this. You are our only hope."
At that moment, a messanger ran in.
"Sir, the Creepers have attacked Karmalliin."
The king sat down, and but his face in his hands.
"We are all doomed."
Mike realised what he was put in this world to do.
"Mark..."
The king looked up. "Yes?"
"Where do I start?"