Shelby almost winced from the sound of utter defeat in Herobrine's voice. Whatever flashback he'd just experienced hit him hard. He was angry, he had always been angry. That was one of the reasons she was attracted to him. But at this point the anger was replaced with pain, and she could almost feel it. Her usual playful mood was instantly extinguished and she felt an overwhelming sadness.

The man didn't have enough strength to feel indignant when she curled around him, almost pinning him to the rock his back was to. Resting her head on his shoulder, he gave up his stubborn macho act and wrapped his own strong arms around her.

They had both suffered so much by the work of the same person, Notch. It was what brought them together here.

Shelby didn't have control anymore. She didn't think anything besides the fact that she needed to be closer to him, his anger exposing his weakness, his loneliness. A light brush on the lips and they found themselves straining against anything that would keep them from getting at each other. Fingers fumbled and lips roamed, anger and despair melted into passion. But when a wave of tension passed between the two, they stopped. The young woman opened her eyes and soon after Herobrine did the same.

They couldn't do this. Not here, not now. There was too much anger, the pair was unstable and they knew this. Not now, not yet.

Feeling her heart racing as fast as it was, she was suddenly curious as to Herobrine's physical reaction. She smiled faintly at the memory of placing her hand on his heart and making him so uncomfortable. This time he still felt uncomfortable, but not because it was racing. Thin fingers rested on his shirtless chest, and they froze there. His heart wasn't beating anymore. Her brown looked into his white as the young woman searched the man's eyes for any sign of a change.

"It stopped just a few minutes ago." Herobrine murmured, he cupped her cheek in his hand at the look of rising panic on her face and kissed her forehead. He slid his shirt on and checked that his sword was still next to him where he left it.

"I'm fine, I promise."

The quiet bubbling of magma and occasional hums from ghasts or zombie pigmen was suddenly broken by an eerie howling noise. Nudging Shelby off his lap, the white-eyed man edged around the ledge they had been hidden behind. She took his hand, silently telling him to be careful as he edged around the corner toward the source of the muffled sound.

Peering around the netherack wall, what he saw caused anger to flare in him like a match to gasoline. There was a party of three standing around the portal he had created so long ago. He recognized two of them but not the third. Richard was there, holding a short sword and bow with a side arm of fear, the boy used to idolize the younger brother of Notch. Next to him was a man who made Herobrine wonder if he was looking in a mirror. Shorter hair, tanner, and better kept, yes, but he was almost identical to him. Then, there was the last one. With dark brown hair and a thicker beard, they looked quite close. His brother's brown shirt was recently washed and his grey pants patched up, showing off a life of ease.

"Notch." Spat the younger one to his self. He grabbed his sword from next to Shelby who gave him an irritated look. She had no clue what was going on. Anger welled in him as he glanced over at the trio standing near the portal murmuring to themselves. If he listened hard he could catch bits of their conversation.

"Blaze…potions…Sydney."

Herobrine had enough. He didn't care what they were doing here, or why that loner, Sydney, had to do with this. He stepped out from behind with his sword in his left hand. With his hair whipping around his face, his scraggly clothes and body shredded in areas, and the diamond/obsidian sword at his side, he looked legitimately deranged.

Richard squeaked quietly in shocked terror and caught the attention of the other two. The youngest member's face when from utter fear to horrified recognition as Notch looked over curiously. And then his face paled.

"Hello, brother," Said the younger one, as wicked smile spreading across his face, and a tingling sense of power washed through his body as he stood near his brother. He clenched and unclenched his fists in anticipation as the other turned to face him.

"You are supposed to be dead." Notch replied with his voice quavering as his white-eyed brother strode slowly toward him with a crazed grin.

As he walked toward his hated brother, he was suddenly struck with flashes of information. Looking up at Notch, he heard tiny whisperings in his head. Murmurings of hidden powers and the truth of who he was; who he was supposed to be.

Herobrine looked down at his right hand, the one not holding the blade, realizing its full potential. His waning grin grew back on his face and he snapped his fingers quietly. A flame formed around his hand and slowly, almost majestically, engulfed his forearm.

The older one looked at the other, his face showing no sign of anger. He knew that as soon as his brother got near him he'd gain the same knowledge. He began to reach for his bow and then faltered, a tiny voice in his head telling him to stop. He couldn't kill his own brother!

Herobrine saw the other's flinch, and a twinkle of forbidden hope grew up inside him. As he lost his concentration the flame on his arm shrunk and died away, looking as if it was retracting into his palm.

And then Shelby walked out.

"MURDERER!" yelled Richard, suddenly gaining furious confidence, and pulled out his own bow. He drew the tight string and pointed the arrow straight at the redhead.

"What the-?" Shelby stammered, confused by what was happening.

"Steve," Notch muttered, "Get him to put down his bow, he doesn't know the full story."

"Give Steve the bow, kid. Save the arrows for someone more important."

Steve put his hand on Richard's shoulder and began to reach for the bow.

"No!" the 19 year old let the arrow fly. It whizzed through the air and planted itself firmly into Shelby's ribcage. She crumpled on the floor with a soft cry and stay there.

Herobrine lurched forward, his obsidian blade sinking in like the boy was butter. Richard tried to scream but all that came out was a few popping noises and a mouthful of blood. Twisting the blade as forced the sword further with all his strength, he almost lifted Richard off the ground. Blood was pouring down the blade and across the raging man's hairy arms. A sudden loud CRACK echoed as the diamond tip shot through the boy's back. Pulling the long blade out of the younger man's stomach with a burst of crimson liquid and flesh, he let what used to be one of his companions drop to the floor like the dead meat he was.

Looking down at his dripping hands, he let his sword fall to the ground. Shaking as the adrenaline in his body wore out, he looked up at Steve and Notch's horrified faces.

"Run."