Herobrine curled his calloused toes in the thick grass of the forest floor. The leather bag Sydney had given him weighed against his back. She'd filled it with a multitude of items, primarily wood planks, all for him to use at leisure. In front of the man was a large overhang, it appeared as if the side of a mountain had been gouged out. The light filtered into the gap, discouraging the clusters of mobs that normally formed under such features. As he flicked his eyes over the formation, identifying blocks and analyzing the terrain, he felt the familiarity he'd noticed while exploring earlier.

"I don't remember this place," Herobrine said to himself.

"But I swear it is new to me..."

Adjusting the single strap across his shoulder, Herobrine stepped onto a lone dirt block. He reached into his bag and pulled out a heavy cube the size of his palm. Running a thumb over the cube, the hard wood scratched his skin. With a flick of his wrist, the small block of wood left his fingers and rapidly expanded, hitting the ground below as a full-sized block. With a small sense of excitement, he reached into the bag once again.

Shelby let go of the friend she'd been hugging. He'd refused to let her go for a solid minute, relishing in her presence as long as he could.

"Gordon, I really will be dead if you don't let me breathe," she said laughing.

"Sorry," he replied, a grin plastering his face. It strained the scar stretching across his stubbled chin. Saving the question for later, she walked to the window to see a blood coated figure struggle through the lone gate.

Shelby pushed past her awaiting sister and ran down the stairs leading to the main entrance. She made it through the door just as a man she recognized stumbled into the building. Catching his arm as he fell, the young woman helped him walk into the laboratory.

"Thank you," he huffed, not a hint of worry in his voice, despite the blood dripping from his back "You're Shelby, right?" She looked to him and saw only irritation on his deceivingly young face.

"Steve..?" she said and he flashed her a pained smile.

"You heard Notch say it?"

Shelby nodded and pushed open the heavy metal door. Sitting the man down on the large iron table in the center of the room she instinctively opened the chest to the right. She stared at its contents for a moment before swearing softly and running to the next chest.

"Of course they rearranged everything..." Pulling out a roll of bandages and a small knife, the woman started their conversation again.

"How did this happen?" She asked, turning to face him. Instead of hearing his reply, however, her mind snapped to focus on one thing.

"Y-You look exactly like him."

Steve swung his feet childishly off the end of the table.

"Like Herobrine?"

She nodded, curious of the sudden change in his mood.

"I-I..." He started hesitantly, but was interrupted by what appeared to be a change in thought. He sat up straight, eyes wide and unfocused for a brief moment before slumping back down with a small groan of pain.

Shelby but her lip, deciding not to bring the subject back up and stepped forward to help him. The blood that had been running off his body had pooled around him on the slick surface. His face was unhealthily pale, but he remained perfectly calm.

"I missed your reply the first time," she said, "What happened to you?"

"Oh! There was a zombie too close to the fence, so I went out to take care of it!"

"You're not supposed to go outside alone." The young woman scolded, wincing at the wound on his back as she carefully cut away his shirt. This wasn't something that could be simply bandaged.

"I know, but I wouldn't have needed anybody as long as the second zombie hadn't shown up!" He sounded far too cheerful for someone with a gash across his spine. Shelby dipped a cloth in water and began to wipe away the blood coating his back, cleaning the wound and looking for any other cuts that needed mending.

About to reply, she stopped herself, taking the blood-coated cloth from his back. Shelby rinsed it quickly and wiped away at a small area across the man's spine and shoulder blade.

"What is this..?"

Steve turned his head in curiosity, but was unable to properly see.

"I don't know... Is there a weird mole or something?" Shelby touched it gently.

"I want to say it's a birthmark, but there's no way it's natural. Here, I'll draw it out for you."

Taking an empty notebook and pen from one of the numerous bookshelves, she sketched out the mark.

"It's perfectly symmetrical. It almost looks like a shield with wings." She handed him the book and continued to clean up his back as he looked over it.

"With blood dripping off of it..."

Shelby stopped.

"Blood? What? Is that what's at the bottom?" He nodded, not taking his eyes off of the sketch.

"I'm going to need to get someone to sew this up." She said, referring to his back and looked out one of the small openings in the door.

A tall girl with a toss of jaw-length brown hair pushed the door open.

"There we go." She said to herself, dark eyes following the trail of blood to the pool Steve was sitting in.

"Hi Emma!"

"Hello Steve," she replied, her tone not dissimilar from that of a mother talking to her child.

"You look like you need your back patched up." Emma's voice dropped back to the firm tone she'd strode into the room with.

"Thanks for taking care of him... Shelby?" The redhead nodded.

"Doesn't seem like I'm needed anymore. Nice talking with you Steve!"

As Shelby started to leave his side, he took her wrist in his surprisingly strong hand. She met his purple eyes in question and he slid a paper into her hand.

"You're the lover of Herobrine, right?" He whispered.

"I uh..."

"Read it. You have to know. You have to do what I can't."

Nodding silently, although very confused, she left the blood-scented room and uncrumpled the torn page in her hand.

-Myths of Trellion and Poems of Times Unknown (page 17)-

Scoffing at the name and the childlike handwriting, Shelby made her way to the library off the main main entrance. Tracing her eyes over the battered books that lines the shelves, she almost missed the faded text of the burnt book, tucked between a few large leather journals. Shelby flipped through the brittle pages. References to cities that didn't exist and 'ancient' inventions that were far ahead of what they had cluttered the pages she only skimmed over. As she continued, it began to dawn on her how old the book really was.

"Steve," she said to herself, "How could this relate to Herobrine? Or even his older brother?" Shelby reached the recommended page.

Chocolate eyes slid across the page, in it a short poem. As the words sunk in, the frown on her face grew.

"God... you can't really be telling me..?"