I'm swimming in a sea of plot ideas here, but wrangling them into a coherent story? Nope. I'm pretty good at cooking up ideas, but bad at implementing and executing them. SHITTTTTTTTTT, there is a lack of an instruction manual for this writing gig. How did OnTheCobb do it? Eh, the reviews and virtual high-fivesfuel my motivation to make more chapters of this fanfic spinoff of a fanfiction.

I don't own Minecraft. If I did, Glistering Melon Slice would be consumable.

[Fildde]

The first thing that hit me when I woke up was the sensation of absolute nothingness—wait, hold on a sec. Deja vu much? I swear I've been in this situation before.

What the hell happened? Oh, right. We were knee-deep in a mob horde brawl, and I collapsed on Helena's doorstep while dragging Vag back. So, yeah, I remember now. But seriously, why the heck am I back here?

Before me is that familiar scene. The void from which I spawned. Oh, great. Did I bonk my head when I hit the ground? Am I in some sort of coma? This is just absurd.

I squinted into the dark abyss, pondering my escape route. How did I manage to escape this place last time? Oh yeah, by saying my name. So, here goes nothing. "Fildde."

...

Okay, so, nada. Definitely not the void. If this is a dream, then I wanna wake up. I mean, isn't the whole point of dreaming to be blissfully unaware? Being conscious inside my own head while probably snoozing kinda defeats the purpose. And it's not even lucid dreaming because I can't control jack squat.

This blows. As I brainstorm ways to kill time in this pseudo void within my mind, I catch a whiff of something fishy and burnt. Like something just did the backstroke up my nostrils.

"The hell?" I coughed, swatting at the imaginary smoke. Is this smoke? Why am I even feeling this stuff? This is getting way too real for my liking.

I'm practically useless here. As I flail around in the darkness, I feel like I'm about to be swallowed whole by the void again. Dark tendrils of smoke coil around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. Panic rises in my throat, accompanied by sinister whispers echoing in the shadows.

I fight against the suffocating grip of the void, desperation clawing at my chest. But then, a flicker of light pierces the darkness, beckoning me forth. Instinct takes over, propelling me toward that glimmer, every fiber of my being screaming for escape.

With every ounce of willpower, I surge toward the light, the smoke thinning as hope ignites within me. Finally, with a gasp, I break free, the world rushing back in a dizzying whirl.

Gasping for air, I find myself sprawled on the floor, the cool wood beneath me a welcome relief. Disoriented, I push myself up, heart still pounding in my chest.

What a crappy dream. "Ughhhhh." I grumbled, struggling to push myself up from the ground.

Damn, my whole body is stiff and I'm tired. Where's Vag? I scanned the room and spotted him sitting comfortably on the bed. What the heck? I'm on the floor while he is lying comfortably on the bed, that's not fair!

He glanced back at me, let out a sigh, and said, "Sorry, but I really wanted the bed." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Also, what was that about?"

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, my brow raising in confusion.

Vag's response came with a sigh.. "Well, there was smoke coming out of you, and you were squinting really hard," he explained.

"Wait, the dream!" I exclaimed. That dream thing transcribed here too?

Vag seemingly puzzled. "What dream?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes, struggling to find the words to convey the experience. "I don't know how to explain it. I'm just as clueless as you are, but I was dreaming of the Void, you know, that pitch-black abyss. I was stuck there for a while until that smoke thing consumed me, and I woke up," I recounted.

He rose from the bed. "Well, we could probably ask Helena. I wouldn't want to stand near you if you caught some weird smoke flu thing."

"It's not a flu," I retorted.

"We don't know that. It could be infectious," he smirked.

This guy, I swear. He'll be a good meat shield for the mobs. Shaking my head, I followed Vag's lead.

"Where's Helena?" I inquired.

"Outside," he responded before posing another question. "Did you say something to her? She seems pretty mad at you for some reason."

"Called her an asshole, I think," I shrugged, not particularly bothered by the fallout.

"She did help us learn the basics of this world. You should apologize," Vag suggested.

Yeah but she also did leave us to die and fend for ourselves. "Later," I dismissed.

As we stepped outside, we spotted Helena standing over her garden. She shot me a pointed look and huffed, clearly not in the mood for pleasantries. Ah, the silent treatment.

I retrieved the old book and the empty glass bottle from my bag and held them out to her. "Here's your book back," I offered, extending the items toward her. She snatched them from my hand without a word, her irritation palpable.

Vag's curiosity seemed to bubble over. "Hey, Helena," he began, his tone laced with intrigue, "who's Herobrine?"

I couldn't help but wonder where Vag pulled that name from. Who is Herobrine?

Helena paused for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the horizon as if reminiscing. "You read the book," she replied with a smile. "The book was written by the first Crafter, Herobrine," she explained.

Oh, he's the book author, I forgot there were other Crafters before us. Maybe I could ask them a thing or two.

"He was–is the best. He spawned when there was no protection inside The Origin area and had to learn everything about this world himself. Of course, he has friends, the First Ten. They were also the ones to build my ho-" Helena continued to talk.

Helena then launched into a rant about how dreamy this Herobrine dude was and boast about his achievements, dropping a few other names along the way. I found myself growing disinterested in her story; she clearly had a crush on that guy. I would hate to break the news to her, but I doubted that guy was still alive, nor did he seem to have a thing for big-nosed, bald women.

On the other hand, Vag seemed to absorb every word she said. I made a mental note to ask him for the shortened version of her tale later. What really impressed me, though, was Helena's memory. She could remember all the 999,999,963 that came before us. From what she said, she has been doing this task of keeping track whenever a new Crafter spawns for 500 years. Even if the concept of time here was a bit wonky here, 500 is still a big number.

We were the newest Crafters yet so there must be one that is more experienced than us. I assume there are cities brimmed with Crafters, just need to ask about one of them and be on my way.

"Ms Helena, I want to ask something." I spoke up.

Helena stopped and stared at me, probably annoyed that I disturbed her hero worshiping session. Vag also perked up at me.

…

"W-what?" I stumbled over my words. OH RIGHT, Vag said I should apologize. "Oh, uh, Ms. Helena, sorry for calling you an asshole," I blurted out, my apology coming out clumsily. "I was kinda pissy at the moment because, you know, I was tired after fighting the zombie with Vag. So, yeah, sorry?"

Ugh, why did I make it sound like I was questioning myself while apologizing to her? I mentally kicked myself for the awkwardness of it all.

Helena looked at me, her expression softening slightly. She opened her mouth. "Apology…" she began, and I held my breath, waiting for her response.

"Accepted," she said, and I exhaled in relief, a weight lifting off my shoulders.

With that out of the way, I could finally ask about the Crafters who came before us and that dream thing.

"So I had this weird dream of me being back in the Void and," I pointed to Vag. "He said while I was sleeping, I was emitting these black smokes. Is that normal?"

"Ah, that must be a status effect. Sometimes a Crafter gets it when eating rotten flesh. I'm sure that's normal." Helena replied.

But I didn't eat it, Vag did. I'll leave this aside for now.

"So where can we find other Crafters?" Vag interjected. "You mentioned that all Crafters first spawned here inside The Origin. Do you know where they are now?"

"I don't know where they are, I'm not all knowing." Helena huffed.

"Our priority is to find other Crafters and figure out more about this world," Vag declared. "Helena, can you tell us about the Crafter you guided before this?"

"I can answer that," Helena smiled. "Number 999,999,963 'Odd_B,' such a sweetheart. I had high hopes for him. He departed a day before you two came. I think if you two go now, you might catch up. He went to the south, into the birch forest. You might find him there," Helena informed us.

"Yeah, cool, just need to find that guy. At least he knows more," Vag said, turning to me. "Let's go."

"Wait, right now?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he turned to Helena. "Thanks for telling us how to survive here." He turned to me. "Ok, now." With that, he briskly walked out of The Origin and into the forest.

That was quick. I faced Helena. "Someone is eager to leave," she remarked, exhaling a long sigh. "Here's some advice for you, Fildde. Be careful with Crafters; it's not only the harsh world and mobs that you will have to face." She smiled.

That's... comforting. "Well, we'll..." I glanced at Vag, already outside and calling for me. "I'll be back to visit you sometimes." With that, I hurried to catch up with Vagferes.

[Helena]

"Well, we'll..." he looked into the distance. "I'll be back to visit you sometimes." After saying that, he left.

"You won't," I whispered softly, a pang of resignation tugging at my heart. They never did return. With a heavy sigh, I turned and walked back inside The Origin.

I'm almost there, Notch. Only 34 more Crafters until the Billionth.

Inventory (Fildde): 1 Wooden pickaxe, 1 Stone sword, 11 Oak planks, 1 Crafting table, 5 Dirts, 5 Cobblestones, 1 Spider eye, 1 Iron ingot, 1 Emerald

[EXP:1]

Inventory (Vagferes): 1 Stone Sword, 12 Oak planks, 3 Sticks, 1 Crafting table, 4 Bones, 6 Arrows, 5 Rotten flesh, 4 Dirts, 2 Spider eyes, 1 Emerald

[EXP:3]