Purple, particle-glazed skies and the solid End Stone beneath me. The next thing I remember.
I sat up, trying to piece everything together. Let's see… I remembered an Enderman… clad in a dusty monocle and your standard purple and black scarf… His arm touching my neck, and me going out with a chill.
Of course I was in his "homeland" of sorts. The End.
I stood up and looked around at partially-destoroyed obsidian pillars and the sum of Endermen that made themselves at home here. Everything seemed tranquil. Nothing unusual.
I turned to walk toward my return portal. The Ender Dragon had been slain ages ago by my arrow, so I was free to go.
Then, two simple taps on my shoulder. I turned around, meeting the eyes of the same Enderman from before and his dusty monocle. He stared at me, almost as if he was trying to find out the same thing I was wondering: why I was here and why he had taken me here.
Then, he spoke. A short, unintelligible murmur. I tilted my head and made a confused face, trying to convey the fact that I had no clue what he was trying to say. I then saw that he realized what the problem was.
Then, I caught sight of another Enderman with the same scarf. He walked up to the one in the monocle and handed him a strange work of craftsmanship. An arm brace of some sort, crafted from obsidian and glowing with veins of purple magic.
Oh no… Were they going to be using nails to force that thing onto my arm?
It turns out that that would not be the case. The Enderman in the monocle instantly looked back at me… before taking my arm and calmly putting it on me. It actually wasn't as heavy as I previously perceived it to be. It was almost like cloth disguised as solid, black obsidian.
Either way, it was on my arm. Then, the Enderman tried speaking again. This time, I knew what he was saying.
In a gentle voice with a sort of British accent, he told me "Hello. Can you understand me now?"
"Yes, I can," I nodded.
"Wonderful," nodded the Enderman. "My name is Scrooge, and I am the CEO of the Ender League."
"You call yourself a CEO?" the Enderman beside him chuckled, in a more American accent. "This is an organization out for death, not the company that created maps!"
Out for death? I had the urge to dash toward the return portal, never looking back. Then again, this… arm brace thingie was already stuck with me, wasn't it?
"That… is Mason," Scrooge sighed in false frustration. "As much as he can be a pain in the block… he's smart, and he's my best pal."
"I don't bite," Mason added.
"Anyway," Scrooge continued solemnly. "You must know why you're here. This organization formed just weeks ago, when we were informed that a threat is on the rise. He is known only as Herobrine, the evil, demented spirit of Notch's brother. Ever since his name was first uttered, he'd been sealed away within a mythical encasing somewhere. Finally, the encasing has burst, and he has likely taken reign over at least hundreds of Minecraft worlds by now. You never know, dearest: Yours… OURS, rather, could be next. We are out to stop him, by any means necessary. We find that you present promising qualities. Other than being this world's main ruler, you are smart, cunning, and level-headed. We've needed someone like you for ages."
A dramatic pause. The beginning of a tale.