Everything was dark.
Herobrine's vision was fuzzy, unfocused - not that there was anything to focus on. His body was beginning to ache from holding the same position for - hours? Days? How long had it been? His body shook slightly, shivering from the chill of the empty void.
Everything was dark, and cold.
He could feel cuts on his skin, blood leaking out and dripping to the floor - only, when he looked, there was nothing but scars. The back of his neck burned as though touched with an open flame, and his head hurt.
Everything was dark, and cold, and hurt.
A horrible feeling held his heart in its icy clutches, of horror and guilt and terror and fear. An awful feeling of anticipation, that the worst was yet to come. The only movement he could make was to blink, slowly, in time with his shallow breaths. His limbs were frozen to the bone.
He couldn't figure out where he was, or why. All he knew was that it was dark, it was cold, he was in pain, and he was afraid.
A soft tap broke the deafening silence.
Blinking, the demigod lifted his head an inch, searching for the source of the noise. The hacker, it occurred to him a moment later. Who else could interact with him in this place?
To his alarm, the endless black seemed to get somehow darker. He didn't know why, but he knew it was bad, his heart speeding up as it beat erratically in his chest.
Thump thump-thump thump-thump-thump-thump-thumpthumpthumpthum
A small room loaded around him.
Immediately, his head shot up, only for him to emit a pained sound as his stiff neck ached with protest. Lifting a hand and pressing it to the back of his neck - which, he noticed, soothed the burning pain - he looked around at his surroundings.
It wasn't minecraft, not the blocks and squares he was used to. Instead, dozens of shapes existed even in this small space, a white room furnished with a bed, a chair, and a table, all in varying shades of grey. Why was he here?
Slowly, painstakingly, the demigod fallen warrior rose to his feet. Carefully, he stepped over to the bed, examining it for any sort of mechanism. He didn't see a trap, but this was the hacker's world - he had no power, and his captor had it all.
Instead, he retreated to a corner, settling back against the wall and letting his eyes fall shut. Maybe he could get some rest before whatever the hacker had planned for him began.
Herobrine wasn't moving.
The AI sat still and silent in the corner of the room he had been brought to, only movement being the steady rise and fall of his chest. Did he need to breathe, Caden wondered idly? Would he suffocate if not provided air?
Shaking his head, Caden returned to the matter at hand - a silent, lifeless body in the corner of a room was hardly enticing to potential customers. He needed him to be up and moving, to prove that he was all the hacker knew he could be. Otherwise, he wouldn't sell.
Entering the chat, Caden began to type a message - and felt an intense wave of deja vu wash over him. He remembered a similar situation, Herobrine locked in a bedrock cell and refusing to perform for his games. As such, he had announced his execution. This time, obviously, he couldn't kill his merchandise. He'd have to come up with something else.
...Herobrine's body was covered in scars, crisscrossing the visible skin on his arms and showing through the cuts in his shirt.
Had he done all that?
[sk20111]: Herobrine.
The AI didn't move, and Caden clicked on his head, dragging it an inch, and Herobrine's hand shot up to his head as he was jerked to the right. Hand pressed to his head, he looked up, eyes barely visible through nearly-shut eyelids.
[sk20111]: Get up.
He was ignored once more, and though Caden pushed him over he still made no move to obey. Herobrine took the manhandling in silence, his only move to press both hands to his head as he was shoved over on his side. He planned to be stubborn, then.
Unfortunately for him, the hacker had called his bluff. Steve was certainly just as intelligent as he was, and from his actions Caden could tell they really were close. That made him a wonderful hostage.
[sk20111]: fine. i'll grab steve then.
He waited. It paid off. Slowly, surely, Herobrine dragged himself upright, looking up towards where he must assume his POV was.
[sk20111]: thank you.
[sk20111]: now listen up:
[sk20111]: you're going to be streamed live to a lobby of potential buyers. You're going to perform for them, understand?
[sk20111]: act like a human. otherwise I'll switch you out with steve. i'm sure he'd be much more cooperative.
[Herobrine]: why should i trust you?
Caden blinked at the retort.
[Herobrine]: for all i know, you've killed him or sent him away already.
Fair enough. Without responding, the teen opened Steve's prison to find him curled up in the center of the void, asleep. Before he could think better of it, he grabbed his file and dragged him into Herobrine's world. After vanishing altogether momentarily, the man reappeared in the center of the white room, falling to the ground with a thump and startling him awake.
"What th-" Immediately, Herobrine whirled around, hurrying to his twin's side and grabbing his wrist. Steve's head jerked up, and he stiffened upon seeing Herobrine above him. "Herobrine?"
[Herobrine]: Are you hurt?
"I- no." His shoulders slumped with relief, and he glanced around the room as Herobrine tugged him upright. "Where- are we?" Herobrine didn't respond in the chat, but Steve nodded anyway a moment later, examining his surroundings. Did they have another way to communicate?
The two were nearly silent from then on, communicating solely in gestures and facial expressions. Caden guessed they didn't want him knowing what they were saying.
He left them there for a few minutes, watching idly as they retreated back to the corner and sat together in silence. They stayed a few inches apart, talking in their silent, private language.
After about 5 minutes, he put Steve back in his own prison. Herobrine shot upright the moment his friend disappeared, eyes wide for a moment before narrowing as he turned to focus on his POV.
[sk20111]: That proof enough for you?
There was a pause, Herobrine looking down at the ground.
[Herobrine]: Yes.
[sk20111]: You will cooperate with me, or any number of things could happen to him.
The AI didn't respond, eyes downcast as he held his arms to his chest. Caden could see his lips moving, almost imperceptibly, but he didn't make a sound. Talking to himself, in a sense…?
[sk20111]: Did you hear me?
Again, nothing. Herobrine's fingers tightened where they clutched his sleeves, his shoulders rising as tension built in his body. Caden had originally assumed he was being stubborn, but… there was something else there.
Frustrated, the hacker sat back, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. Herobrine was… more human than he remembered. He was showing signs of shock, of trauma, whereas last time the only thing he'd seen was spite and self-consumed rage. Although, his perspective of him last time had been… different. Regardless, he doubted he could force him into cooperating, even with Steve as a hostage.
Maybe, then…?
[sk20111]: Cooperate with me, and I'll let Steve go.
That caught his attention, Herobrine lifting his head with confusion reading on his face. It was a lie, of course. He couldn't put him back in the server if he wanted to, after all, he'd deleted it. But his captive had no way of knowing that.
[Herobrine]: How can I trust you?
[sk20111]: You don't have much of a choice.
[sk20111]: Make a decision.
[Herobrine]: I'll do it.
He didn't hesitate. Definitely more human.
[sk20111]: Good.
[sk20111]: I'll inform you when the stream begins.
With that, he closed the window, intending to check to see if his messages had been replied to. Before he could open the program, though, something else caught his attention - Steve's prison was still open. His captive sat in the center of the empty room, arms curled around his legs with his face buried in his forearms.
He was crying.
Caden closed the window immediately. He couldn't afford to feel sorry for him - not with what was at stake. Deciding against checking on his contacts for the moment, the hacker buried himself in his latest commission once more, letting the strings of letters and numbers distract him from any emotions he might be feeling.
Feeling guilty wouldn't put food on the table.
