Down in the sealed bunker, a meeting took place. Around a block was the true oldest group in Robloxia. They were muttering amongst themselves fervently, glancing about as if they were being watched.
"The volcano will erupt tomorrow," the leader, who was at the head of the table, said to his first officer. "Now, we need to lure Builderman and his motley crew of users on top of this volcano, so when it erupts, Robloxia will never be." The first officer nodded.
"Nobody will ever see the rest of the universe," he said gleefully.
"I am afraid there is a slight flaw with your prediction," a voice issued from out of the darkness at the other end of the meeting hall. Everyone froze. The leader glanced around fearfully for the source of the voice, but found nothing. Until:
"There is no need to be scared." A man stepped out of the dark. His face was masked in shadow, but in his hand there was what looked like the glitter of strong liquor in a small glass. He carried a briefcase. Setting it down on the table, his face and features still in the shadow of anonymity, he drank from the glass.
"Now, do you really think you will be able to lure Builderman to the top of Mount Bloxxar?," he asked smoothly. The assembled members shrugged. There was a chuckle. "I thought not. And now it will be made even more difficult by the fact that two time travelers have come, heavily armed and trained in battle."
"Are you sure there are time travelers?," a short man beside the first officer asked, sweating.
"I have seen them, both in their time and yours," the figure said. "Luckily for you, there were not just two travelers. There are now three." A scarred face loomed out, suddenly. The sunglasses arond his head, gleaming even when there was no light, popped out in a rush. The cracked lips curled back in a snarl. "I am their doom!"
The sky was a shade of perfect blue when Grean and the rest awoke. In the middle of the night, the house had been completed, probably by Builderman, when he regained strength. Around it, the foundations of other houses were slowly building, along with some thin, spindly towers and trees. Over in one corner, a soot-stained user was smelting some powerballs on a massive anvil.
About a hundred new users had sprung up overnight and joined the server, which did not yet have a numbered limit yet, as this was only the second day of existance.
"Hello," Builderman said, waking everybody up fully. "I understand we have survived through the night, and that we have over a hundred members now." Everyone mumbled something profane under their breaths and started to lie back down again. Builderman raised a hand. "WAIT! Until I stop talking. Anyways, I would like to invite some very special people up to the stage this morning. First of all, Shedletsky." The tallest of the users strode up to the "stage" and recieved a warm handshake from the creator.
"It is very nice to be up here," he said in a deep, resonous voice. He then left to keep banging away at the anvil.
"Ahem, now," said Builderman, apparently losing the thread of his thoughts, "there are more people we need to thank before we can get on. Please give a hand to Dusek, Clockwork, and last but not least, Gharm Overseer." Grean felt a spasm of recognition.
"Another Overseer! I never knew that I had admin blood in me!"
"Hello," Gharm said into the silence of everybody trying really hard not to stop listening. "I am Gharm Overseer. You may not know me, but Buildey here does." Builderman crossed his arms. Gharm chuckled. "A-a-anyways," he said, somehow rolling his As, "I am the one responsible for the defence system around this server, right now, as we speak. A bubble shield, preventing any natural disasters or alien invasion, has been set up. Now, nobody can get in or out, which is probably for the best. Don't we all agree?" There was a smattering of polite applause. Grean raised his hand.
"Excuse me," he asked, "but have you checked for threats INSIDE the shield?" Gharm appeared to consider this.
"Uhhh... no." Everybody acted at once. Panic welled up in the crowd and spilled over into every brick, every weapon, every cloud, every star, every sun. The world grew confused and blurred, but through it all, Grean could see a red, roiling flame on the horizon. Tremors split the ground into large pieces. Some users fell to their deaths and never respawned again.
"OH SHIT!," A voice screamed from behind Grean. Turning, he saw Max and Ketsuban charging through the people. They looked panicked. "MOUNT BLOXXAR ERUPTED!"
"FUCK, are you seriously trying to tell me it's MOUNT BLOXXAR?," Blackrose said disbelievingly. "THAT THING KILLED THOUSANDS OF USERS!"
Builderman, Shedletsky, Dusek, and Gharm sprinted over at that moment. "What's going on," Shedletsky demanded.
"Fucking Mount Bloxxar just went nova!," Ketsuban yelled. "Now, let's MOVE, people!"
Explosions sounded from all areas as the shrapnel hit. The forge, the houses, the trees, everything was soon up in fire and smoke. And still more users died. Grean heard one woman screaming as the house she was in was ripped out of its foundation and hurled one thousand blox into the sky.
The smoke was thick in front of all eight of the travelers. Once or twice Grean had to help Blackrose struggle out of the rim of a pit of fire. Builderman had lost his hard hat and was now running as fast as his little legs would carry him across the searing plains.
"Oh , FUCK, FUCK!" This time it was Gharm. He had slipped and was now dangling precariosly on the edge of a rotating piece of iron. Grean realized it was a drill.
"Something's not right here." And with that, Gharm was lifted off and sailed to
Grean's feet in a heap, groaning slightly. The drill machine churned out of the chasm. It had no real shape, other than a confused mass of wheels and steel. Dirt flew off like a deadly blizzard in all directions from the whirring death mounted in front.
And on top of this abomination stood the greatest abomination of all. It unsheathed it's two katanas, and the glint of sunglasses could be seen across the server.
"Hello, Grean."