Jerome took in a healthy lungful of breath, grinning at the expanse of forest beneath the hardwood floor of his treehouse mounted in a jungle tree. Such a lively green, with so much color.

It was hard to find areas like this these days, especially since there was no longer areas like the Wilderness, an area from Minecraftia decades before present times. Though Jerome wasn't alive at that time, he always loved the thought of a whole section almost completely untouched by human hands.

Of course, there was no longer any of that around. Jerome was lucky enough that he was able to save an area with his fame by protesting, and even luckier that it was near his old home. It would always be around forever.

Jerome's ears perked up, and his eyes zoomed in at Mitch running towards his house, waving his hands and hollering something. The Bacca quickly leapt out of the tree, landing with hardly a sound behind Mitch. A simple feat for a Survival Games champion.

"What's the problem? We haven't got any games planned, do we?" Jerome asked, quirking his head to the side. Mitch and Jerome didn't talk too often, ever since Team Crafted had broken up.

Mitch shook his head frantically, taking in a deep breath. "They're destroying the forest tomorrow for more building space, and materials! Apparently because you've lost all—I mean most—of your fame! They won't get in much trouble because no one wants this place to stay!" Mitch wildly made hand gestures, clearly in a state of panic.

It wasn't bad as Jerome's state, however. His mouth was wide open, forming an O, and his eyes were stretched wide. He quickly proceeded to climb up the vines that formed the entrance to his house, and yanked Betty out of an item frame.

He examined the finely carved wooden handle, and the pristine shimmer of her diamond blade, letting out a shuddering breath.

He returned back down, and was confused at why Mitch was gawking at him.

"Dude. We can't chop them up. They have bulldozers, and that'll only succeed in them wanting to take it down even more." Jerome dropped the axe onto the shaded forest floor, sitting down in defeat.

Jerome growled from his position, "Then what can we do? There are hardly anymore of my kind to support us, we can't attack them, and I doubt they'd listen to two teenagers who hardly know anything. It's hopeless."

Mitch turned his back away from the figure slumped on the ground, and kicked a tree. "Jerome. One, we aren't teenagers. We're like, twenty."

"So?" Jerome hissed, looking up at him. "We're as good as teens, considering we dropped our education for an opportunity at recording fame."

Mitch continued on, ignoring his statement, his tone blank from emotion. "Two, has it ever occurred to us that just because Team Crafted is over, doesn't mean that people won't look at our recordings? We could easily protest."

Jerome had nothing to say to that, and Mitch himself was surprised he never thought of it himself.

"And three. Just because the team is gone doesn't mean we can't stay in contact with the others." Jerome got up, and dusted off his suit, which he'd taken a liking to, even though it was once a ploy to get a bit more fame.

"Okay."

I. I like this. I just like writing fight scenes for some reason. I'm going to write a short second part to this later xD Might make it seperate or just update the chapter, when I feel like writing it. *Chuckles nervously*

Also, if you sent me a prompt, I don't do them immediately, but you should still send them in ;D ANY Youtuber, I will take the time to familiarize myself with them just a bit. Maybe even an OC prompt. I like to have something to write, or else I won't update, if you haven't...Noticed already...I'm not good with schedules ^_^ Just a procastinating child.

Finally, dang. This story has half as many views as Woven Threads already, and more reviews, favorites, and follows...I think that's a good thing...:D? Thanks for showing all dat appreciation to it, though *Insert less than sign that fanfiction doesn't let me do*3