Steve leaned heavily upon one of the library's doors, attempting to steady his breathing and calm his racing thoughts. There was no reason for him to have reacted the way he did. At least, that was what he wanted to tell himself, yet he still couldn't shake the overwhelmingly terrible feeling weighing upon his body. He recalled the conversation from earlier in the morning, between Jason and Vahn.

Maybe it was a joke. A really, really cruel joke. Or whatever Gavin had dreamt up this time wasn't going to happen. But Gavin's exhausted and distant eyes flashed before him as well all the other times that he'd witnessed Gavin's well-being crushed beneath the weight of his darker visions, which often came true, effectively silencing his inner skeptic. Only one thought remained, then.

What the Nether had Gavin meant?

Steve stared hard at the ground beneath him before shaking his head, running a hand through his brown hair. Gavin himself probably didn't know the answer to that question—he couldn't, shouldn't bother himself with it right now. He had things to do. With that, Steve leaned off of the building and began heading into town, leaving the library with one last lingering look. He walked straight down the path he'd taken to get there and then turned left. He paused in front of the building he'd been looking for, taking a quick moment to pat down the hair he'd ruffled and straighten his shirt before pushing the door open.

Heat and the faint smell of smoke pervaded his senses as a little bell rung from a room behind the desk in front of him. Steve's down-trodden look was replaced with one of admiration as he re-examined the various works hung upon the walls of the armory, from swords with custom carved handles to double-edged axes, even some little glass sculptures stood proudly upon a shelf.

"Coming," a rough voice shouted from the back, but was quickly followed by, "Anna, don't you—hey!"

Steve had only a moment more to himself before a small figure dashed from the adjourning room to his right, pausing only a moment before clasping onto his leg.

"Steve!"

Something clattered from the room behind but Steve paid it no mind as he kneeled down to give Anna a proper hug.

"Oh, little enchantress! How I've missed your most wonderful presence," Steve said in an actor-y tone of voice as he squeezed Anna a little tighter, causing the child to giggle. When the two pulled away from each other, he gently placed his hands on the girl's shoulders. "Hmm. Did you get a haircut?"

Anna's white, previously lengthy hair now only reached her shoulders. She nodded fervently. "Papa cut it for me!"

"He did a very good job, it looks nice! Speaking of him...Anna. What did your father say about the door?"

"Uuuuummm…not to go answering it by myself?"

"And what did you do? Again?"

"Answer the door by myself…" Anna answered dejectedly, pouting.

"And we don't do that because?"

"Because we don't always know who's there, but- it's always someone friendly, Steve!" Anna whined, crossing her arms. "And even if they were a meany, I could just blast them away!"

Steve smiled at her naivety, but also at the fact that she really wasn't wrong in the sense that both the people who lived in Verdesa, as well as those who just came to visit, were typically quite friendly. He took his hands off of her shoulders. "I'm sure you could. But you can never be sure, okay?"

"Okay…" Steve stood as the child morosely began to wander back to her room, quickly pulling an apple out of his bag.

"Hey, Anna, I think I still have something for you," Steve said, a smirk on his face. The words were barely out of his mouth before Anna spun on her heels to look at what he had in his hand. She gasped loudly, her turquoise eyes widening as she broke into a huge smile.

"Green apple?!"

"Yep. You can have it—if," Steve paused to raise the apple away from her as she made grabby hands for the tart treat before continuing, "You promise not to go to the door by yourself."

"I promiiise! Suuuper promise!"

And with that, Steve handed the apple over to the very eager child, who took a big bite out of it before letting out a muffled "Thank you!" and heading into her room. Steve stared after her, his smile becoming small as his mind began to wander once more. A small chuckle interrupted the dark path his thoughts were taking, and his head snapped towards the source of the sound, maybe a little too quickly. There stood Michael, wiping a sheen of sweat off of his dark skin as he flashed Steve a dimpled grin. Steve couldn't help but notice that the man's black hair was tied back in a higher ponytail than usual, some of it falling upon his broad shoulders rather than behind him. He was, maybe, staring for too long.

"I swear, you raise that kid better than I do, Steve," he said, laughing again. Steve felt the heat rise to his face and cursed himself for being unable to stay calm and accept a simple compliment. He also laughed, his eyes darting back to where Anna had exited from.

"Haha- no, I don't...of course not. Like I come here often enough to be able to do that," Steve said, internally screaming. What was he even saying anymore? Michael, bless the man, seemed not to think lesser of Steve somehow, and he waved his hand in the air.

"Ah, don't be that way! She likes you all the same. And, hey, so do I," Michael responded with a quick wink. And, before Steve could combust, Michael clapped his hands together and continued, "As much as I enjoy your company here, I know you didn't just come here for that."

"Y-Yeah," Steve nodded, unsheathing the iron sword at his side. He caught his own eyes in the reflection of the worn out silver surface, and his expression became vacant. He'd originally planned on having the blade re-sharpened at the very least but, even though he would need it for other purposes, sharpening the blade seemed like he was taking another step into making a "regrettable" choice.

"Steve? Are you alright," Michael gently asked. Steve absentmindedly looked up at the blacksmith before remembering where he was. "You seem...out of it."

"No, no, I'm alright, I just...you know what? I'm sure this thing can handle a dozen more swings at least. Sorry about that, Michael," Steve responded sheepishly, sheathing the sword once more.

"Now, why're you apologizing? That's alright, as long as you're sure…? Did something happen?" Steve's breathe caught in his throat upon hearing the tone of concern directed towards himself. He almost wanted to tell Michael about the happenings of the library, but instead, he swallowed thickly and shook his head.

"No. I...I'll just head home early, I think I'm coming down with something." Michael eyed him for a few quiet moments, seeming unconvinced, but he soon sighed and, thankfully, changed the subject.

"Well, then, before you go, I think I still have something for you," Michael said, turning into the back room before Steve had a chance to ask—he didn't recall placing an order for anything recently. The smith returned, placing the item he'd retrieved onto the table between them: A glass rose, its delicate petals stained a deep red and its stem, leaves and all, stained green, and even carved with the same intricate designs of a real leaf. Michael had a few sculptures like this but this one had to be, by far, one of the most detailed.

"I was...out of orders to do for a bit and couldn't think of what to do in the spare time," Michael began quietly, pushing the rose towards Steve before shifting his dark gaze into Steve's eyes. "I began to think about you and, well, I went at it for a bit." Michael shrugged. "It's yours."

"I…wow," Steve said eloquently. He hesitantly grasped the rose's stem before picking it up, slowly twisting it around as he silently observed it. In part, he was genuinely taking in every little detail of the rose, but he was also trying to cover for the fact that he was stunned speechless. After a few moments more, he finally found his words.

"It's beautiful, Michael. You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to."

Feeling the heat crawling into his cheeks once again, Steve broke out into a stupid little grin as he held the rose close before carefully putting it into his satchel. "Thank you so much, Michael. I love it."

Michael smiled as well and waved his hand again. "It's- nothing, really." With that same hand, he reached out and took Steve's hand in his. "Hmm. I think it's a fever," he joked. He continued, giving Steve's hand a gentle squeeze. "You go home and feel better, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." Steve returned the squeeze before striding towards the door, turning the knob, and opening it up to leave, but not without one last look towards Michael. "Thanks."


Suffice to say, Steve had experienced quite a few sufficient distractions during his visit in Verdesa. With an incredible feeling of warmth settling over his mind and body, he'd only spent about an hour more in the village to purchase the seeds he needed for Markus' stable, as well as to see if anyone needed any minerals for him to mine before making a peaceful trip back home. After storing away his inventory for the day, taking care to set the glass rose on the table by his bedside—light would capture it almost constantly there and create beautiful distortions of light—he'd flopped onto his bed and promptly taken a nap.

For the rest of the day.

Steve awoke with a jolt late in the evening, sitting up too quickly for his own good. He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, putting a hand to his head. He groaned when he finally opened his eyes again and looked out of the window by his bed.

"Ah, come on."

If he'd slept this late already, it would mean just another wonky night of sleep tonight. Besides that, he'd already missed the opportunity to safely make his way to the mine nearby without encountering the nightly inhabitants of the forest. Great. Nothing to do.

Nothing…

Steve's eyes shifted from his sword on the ground to outside of his window, where the last remaining rays of sunlight died out in the sky. He took in a deep breath. Exhaled it. And hopped off of the bed before taking the sword in hand.

As long as he went about it the right way…there was something he could still do today.


"Hello? Anybody out there? Strange dude?"

This was stupid. Absolutely ridiculous. Suicidal, even. Alright, well, he wouldn't go as far as to say that quite yet—he was still in good proximity of his home, had at least lit up the area directly around him to ward off at least some of the mobs, and the supposed maniac he was trying to call for hadn't seemed to make a sincere attempt at killing him yet, no matter what Alex said—but it was quite close to it, he was sure.

"I want to talk? Maybe? You haven't done much of that with me," he began, running a hand through his hair. "I…I want to understand why you're doing this, at least? We could sort it out or…Notch, this is stupid. You just show up whenever you want to, huh." Steve quieted down and sighed, but he didn't leave quite yet. A few minutes. A few minutes more. He didn't know why he thought that there might be a chance that the dude would come bother him tonight—he's probably at his own house sleeping like anyone else would at this hour, or, if he was here, he was probably laughing his ass off at this pathetic show.

"I…maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Or something. I'll be honest, I'm not really sure what I could've done? Did I–"

Snap.

Steve jumped and quickly spun on his heels, his hand instinctively landing upon the handle of his sword. There, in front of him, was the same man from the morning. The douchebag who nearly caught his house on fire, who startled Markus far, far away from him, who kept wordlessly telling him to leave. He stood tall yet relaxed, a passive expression resting on his face. Steve frowned for a moment, but his expression lightened in surprise when he finally noticed something that he felt he probably should have noticed a long, long time ago. The man's eyes were…empty. White. And glowing. With a raise of an eyebrow, Steve dropped his hand from the hilt of the blade and slowly put both his hands up.

"Look. I'd prefer not to fight. Can we just…talk?"

The previously passive expression now dropped into one of annoyance. Steve flinched but the other male made no move.

"Okay…not much of a talker. I guess. I'm also guessing you didn't hear any of what I said before…?"

Still no response. Not even a nod or a shake of the head. Well. Rude.

"Can I ask why you're doing all this?"

The man's face further crinkled before he face-palmed and groaned. Then, he pointed to Steve, then somewhere behind him—towards his house, he quickly realized—before finally pointing behind himself.

Leave.

"Okay. No. I asked you why you're doing this, not to threaten me again, buddy. Why should I leave? Huh?" Mr. White Eyes made the same expression that Steve imagined he had made this morning, when he was about to scream. But Steve, running out of patience far quicker than he had planned to, continued, throwing his hands up. "You've been a real dick, y'know that? Like, really? I don't think I've ever even met you before, and you give me this? I might've done whatever you wanted me to do before but- you know what? You could give me any reason in the world at this point and I. Still. Wouldn't."

And, quicker than Steve could blink, faster than he could even see, a sword of diamond appeared in the other's hand. Though his stance was nevertheless relaxed, it certainly had changed into that of a person ready to initiate a fight. At any other moment, Steve might've taken the time to appreciate the craftsmanship of said blade. Now, he pulled out his own sword in retaliation. If this is what it came to…

White eyes, which had previously been a decent 10 feet away from him were suddenly right in his face. Steve's attempt to distance himself ended in his back falling flat against the ground, and he grunted as the air was knocked out of him from the impact, and again when the man pinned him to the ground with his boot. Steve cursed quietly, holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut as the man hefted the sword up but—pain never came.

He cracked an eye open to look up, only to see the blade dangerously close to his neck and, more importantly, the man above him swaying slightly. The boot on his chest had lost some of the weight it'd had before. Without a moment of hesitance, Steve grabbed onto the other's ankle, shoving it off of him in the opposite direction in which he rolled, and hopped onto his feet once more. He realized quickly that his sword had been left a little ways away behind his opponent.

And, unfortunately, so had his opponent.

No longer disoriented and undoubtedly having the miner's new disadvantage in mind (or, perhaps, angry at his own mistake of letting Steve go), the man came at him relentlessly. Steve could only distance himself further and dodge the blade at this point, a task which proved itself possible but difficult. He hissed as sword made contact with skin eventually. Only a light cut, thankfully, but as time went on, they would only get worse until—

A heavy weight unexpectedly shoved itself into Steve's back, right as the white-eyed stranger pulled the diamond blade back, effectively toppling Steve onto him, and the two of them onto the ground. Steve sat up once again and looked down upon the stranger, who had his eyes shut in a grimace, before looking behind him.

Grape, panting heavily, seemed to smile upon seeing his face.

"Oh- my. Good dog. Good dog. Stay. No, go back home!"

With that, Steve stumbled off of the other, dashing over to pick up his sword before spinning on his heels to face the man—who was gone. Grape hadn't made it all that far in trying to obey Steve's orders, and was too preoccupied with trying to intimidate the now swaying stranger who was no doubt about to bring his sword down upon the dog. Steve's feet were moving faster than his mind was, the sword aimed to jab at the arm that was holding that sword.

It hit his side instead.

Steve had killed countless zombies and creepers with a sword before this. It wasn't something he particularly liked doing, but he had gotten desensitized to it after a while. There was something entirely different about killing—

No, no, he didn't kill this person. He'd just made a very, very bad mistake, which he could fix. The wound wasn't that bad, after all, it couldn't be. His blade was too dull. That's why the man had fallen on the ground, motionless, as blood pooled out of his side, and why wasn't he moving?

Steve dropped his bloodied sword and then shakily dropped to his knees, carefully reaching out to touch the man. This time, before his hand could reach, he could see the light and the particles form before the man disappeared for good. Neither the sting of his own wounds nor Grape's barking could shake him out of the stupor he was in now.

It would be a long, long night.


Warmth. Incredible warmth. It settled all over and throughout his body and mind, creating a comfortable, hazy feeling. If he didn't know better, he would've thought that he'd fallen asleep, wrapped up in the coziest blanket ever made. Or that he'd fallen asleep beneath a tree on a summer's day. But, no, that couldn't be. He had...something had happened to him. Something very, very unfortunate. So, now, he was here.

Where?

He opened his eyes. Indeed, he had fallen asleep underneath a tree, in the middle of a vast, green field. He sat up, then stood up and stretched, sighing in satisfaction as a few bones popped in his spine. For a moment, he just stood there with his eyes closed, enjoying the soft breeze that ran ran through the air. He didn't know how he got there. Or why he was there. Fighting through the haze over his mind proved to be a futile effort in trying to regain his memories, so perhaps the answers he sought for would come to him if he walked around for a little while.

And so, he did.

Choosing no direction in particular, he strolled away from the singular tree in the middle of the vast, green field, his eyes on the lookout for something. Anything. It really was quite empty and plain there, no matter how nice it was. The further off he walked away from the tree, the more anxiety creeped into his being, and the darker the sky seemed to grow, despite the total absence of clouds or even a setting sun to blame it on. Darker and darker the scenery grew, only further agitating him as he began to slow down and think about going back. But the tree—it might've been the same tree or a different one, he couldn't tell—it was up ahead of him. He picked up his pace or, at least, tried to. After all, his legs and, specifically, his feet felt like they were being weighed down by some type of thick muck.

He looked down.

He'd stepped onto—into?—a black surface, which his boots were part way submerged in, without noticing. And now his boots were melting. He cringed and quickly hopped out of the boots, backing away from them and moving towards the tree, noticing too late that his feet were also sinking further and further into the black. With one desperate attempt to tear a foot out of it, he sent himself flying backwards and into the black muck. His back met with something more akin to water than the goop he'd been battling before, and so he allowed himself to sink in. Instantly, his vision was clouded with black, but he could still breathe somehow, at least.

Let's fall.

A voice excitedly called to him, distant.

Let's fall together!

It insisted. Was he falling right now? Or drowning? It felt nice, whatever it was. He had something to do, though. There was something very, very important that he had to do, and he hadn't done it yet. The warm haze was beginning to dissipate.

This is more fun. Forget about that.

He almost opened his mouth to object, but thought better of it. He wouldn't mind staying here, but forgetting about what he had to do previously...what did he have to do? Where was he? What happened to him? Clearer and clearer the visions of before became.

For

get

ab

out

it.

Fall.

And all at once, the fog was gone. He'd died. He died, stupidly, fighting a human. He was in the afterlife. He needed to get out of it to go fix the seals or the world might actually end. His name was—

That's very mean of you.

It was so cold and empty here, he finally noticed, and yet suddenly his lungs were on fire, his chest was being crushed into itself, he was suffocating, he couldn't move any of his limbs as he could before. Somehow, certainly, he would die again. Just as the pain began to feel overwhelming, something attached itself to his arm and began to pull him in the direction that he hoped was up, and then he was out of the muck and he could breathe again.

It wasn't pleasant.

He immediately heaved up everything he'd inhaled and then some, coughing out what little of it was left. And then, he passed out.


He awoke again beneath that tree in the field, to a conversation he couldn't understand.

"Htrsy, yjsy'd kidy. Epmfrtgia," a low, smooth voice muttered, disgusted.

"Hrrx. O'z ditqtodrf yjsy jr rbrm ditbobrf yjsy apmh nrgptr er gpimf joz," a second, slightly higher voice responded. "Yjr pyjrtd…"

"Eraa. Er gpimf joz, sy arsdy," said the first voice. Suddenly it clicked. This was the language that they used to cast spells...he hadn't heard it in a while. "Seriously, though? A mere human caused his death, Notch? How pathetic. And he was the last of them all?"

"No, he wasn't. Isn't. You know exactly why and how his death was possible, Orion. I'd appreciate if you didn't call him pathetic," the one identified as Notch said calmly. "Have you no respect for their lives?"

"Of course I do. They were mostly fulfilling and thus produced very, very delicious souls—"

"Would you stop with that? You know you don't eat them. You say things like that and then wonder why I suspect you."

"If you truly suspected me, brother dearest, you would have made quick work of me a long time ago."

Notch said nothing in response.

"Well, last one or not, if he fails, let me have a turn. I am quite sure I can deal with this more efficiently than you have been."

"Destroying my world before its time for no real reason without finding the true source of the problem? I don't think that's very efficient, bro."

"It will be one less problem to—ah, he's awake."

With the attention suddenly on him again, he realized that he was still, in fact, lying down. He sat up quickly and, as a second thought, rubbed his eyes. In front of him were two men, one to his left and to his right. He couldn't help but notice how different the two looked, especially considering they referred to each other as brothers. The one on his left sat with his legs stretched out and his arms propping him up, his kind, dark eyes trained on him with a smile, exuding relaxation. He had fair skin, wore a casual brown t-shirt and grey pants, and was bald except for the scruffy black beard on his face. The one to his right sat cross-legged and hunched, his head propped up by his arm. A pair of glasses sat in front of his bored, golden eyes. Intimidating, if he had to be honest. His skin was as dark as ground cocoa beans, and he, unlike the other, seemed to put a little more effort into his outfit. He wore a long, black coat with gold accents, which was spread out behind him, accompanied by a white dress shirt and some black slacks. And he was not bald.

Well, they were gods, after all. He supposed they didn't have to look similar.

How did he know that?

The three fell into a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Hello," Notch said, finally.

"Hello," he responded unsurely. The one to his right, Orion, inhaled deeply and sighed, sitting up straight to turn his full attention to him.

"Stop, stop. This is terrible. We did not come all the way out here for awkward conversation. Do you know who you are?"

"I- yes. My name is...Herobrine."

"Good. Do you know why you're here?"

"I died."

"That you did. Do you know what you must do?"

"Live and protect." At this answer, Orion glanced over to Notch, whose smile grew wider.

"Cheesy. I meant—"

"Well, Hero," Notch interrupted, "It seems you're all good to go back, judging by the fact that your memory seems to be fine so far. You'll get the rest of 'em back upon waking. And, speaking of that, I don't know if any of your friends told you this but, uh, you will not have much of a physical body when you return to the land of the living at first. You, as you know, died, but your actual body is definitely salvageable. You know what I'm getting at?"

Herobrine furrowed his eyebrows, looking off to the side to ponder Notch's words. "You mean...I'll exist as a spirit until I can enter my body again? And, in order to enter my body again, it has to be healed."

"Bingo, you got it! Now you're really ready to go back," Notch said as he stood up. The dark-eyed god snapped his fingers, and Herobrine's eyes widened in awe as a golden glowing octagon, with more shapes and lettering inside, formed beneath him. Orion, too, stood up, and snapped his fingers. A similar, black octagon formed above Herobrine. The two shapes kept growing brighter and brighter, the raw power causing Herobrine's hair and clothing to whip around as if he were in the middle of a fierce storm.

"Try not to die again, Herobrine," Orion said nonchalantly. "We can aid you a bit now but there is still a lot at stake. Brother dearest would not like to be forced to erase this world, and he will have to if you meet your end once more."

"Don't say something like that! We'd just have to give him a little more next time," Notch exclaimed. Orion gave Notch a deadpan look, and then, with a smile, turned to Herobrine once more.

"I revise my statement, then. Try not to die again, Herobrine, because if you do, I will be having your soul to eat."

"You'll what?"

That was about all Herobrine could muster before the light became blinding bright, the shapes spinning faster and faster in opposite directions. And then, with one final flash, Herobrine was gone. Notch turned to the golden-eyed god, who seemed quite proud of himself.

"Why would you say something like that."

"What? It will all be forgotten once he awakens."

"You're terrible."

"I am quite sure of it."


I am so sorry for not updating last Tuesdaaay (I didn't say it but, I'm trying to update every other Tuesday. That'll definitely be compromised by the upcoming school year but uuuh sh). I'll be honest, I just got kinda lazy. But I'll try not to do it again. Hope you liked this chapter~! Comments and reviews are definitely always welcome!