Chapter 2: Chance Encounters
Waking up, Steve found himself being confronted with the cold chill of the world around him, stirring him from his rest in order to pull his blankets closer around his body. Autumn was here, but winter was fast approaching, and with each passing night came colder and colder weather that attempted to freeze him down to the bone. In an attempt to get blood flowing through his body, he decided to sit up and start getting ready for the day, eyes slightly blurry as he looked around the room to get them accustomed to the light.
Funnily enough, there was no light to be found.
Confused, Steve looked to the clock that was hung beside his doorframe, finding that its arms indicated that it was only roughly five in the morning. Blinking once, Steve shrugged and stood up from his bed, leaving the blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he made his way to the kitchen.
The second he stepped out from his bedroom, a wave of pure dread hit him, and a strange, unnerving feeling pooled at the bottom of his stomach.
Even more confused, Steve found himself nervously glancing around his house as the feeling refused to subside no matter how much he tried to push against it, almost as if he was suddenly drowning and he couldn't swim up for air. He knew that he was alone, but every little sound that he heard, the creaking floorboards, the outside sounds of monsters moving, everything made him think that there was an intruder somewhere hidden behind a piece of furniture or something, even though there were only so many places that they could hide.
Turning on a small lantern, he looked around the room, finding that yes, only he was there in the building at the moment.
Letting out a shaky sigh, Steve went over to his couch and dropped his blanket there, moving over to the kitchen once again to make himself some breakfast after he'd opened the blinds over his couch a bit. He found that his hands were trembling excessively with the rush of anxiety he had just experienced, so instead of tempting a medical emergency, he instead went to grab a piece of bread and an apple, calling that a sufficient enough breakfast for his liking. By the time he had finished eating, the sun still hadn't risen up that much, and he was still unable to see much light from the outside. Walking over to the window that faced the lake outside, he peeked outside to find that, strangely enough, the monsters had cleared out already, leaving no remains in the area around his house. The sky was a slightly lighter blue now, but the sun had yet to appear high enough in order to destroy most of the night-dwellers.
Now he was thoroughly disturbed.
Stepping away from the window as if something would come rushing through it, he went back into his bedroom in order to change into his proper working gear for the day, despite the fact that he really didn't want to step outside at the moment. After changing into a cleaner shirt and a slightly less damaged pair of pants, he went to better equip himself for the day ahead. Whenever he went out mining, he had an entirely separate bag from the normal one that he carried whenever he went to the village; one that had straps that both went over his arms and around his torso for more support, and was durable enough to hold whatever spoils he managed to drag out of the tunnels on any given day. Apart from that, he donned a pair of durable leather gloves that, although rather dulled in color and frayed at the edges, had proved to be quite useful in preventing his worn-down hands from becoming even more covered in cuts and blisters than they already were. His sturdy boots were covered in a layer of dirt and coal dust, but their heaviness gave him a feeling of safety as he slipped them on.
Adjusting the bag on his back, Steve headed outside, opening the door quietly as he glanced around to check for any monsters that could've snuck closer to him without warning and ambush him as he made his way to the caves.
He was met with nothing. Just an eerie silence that crept through the area like a heavy fog. Not even the village was awake yet to fill in that silence.
It wasn't the first time that he'd gone out to mine so early in the morning, but it was definitely the first time that he didn't have to deal with at least a couple of mobs on his way there. He strained his ears as much as he could, but nothing could be seen or heard. Not even the animals that were in the village, who always made a ruckus in the morning, called out to greet the day.
Just silence.
Just a tense, deafening silence.
The mines were such a refreshing sight for sore eyes.
Vast caves partially lit with torches lining the walls, empty spaces that indicated past ore veins of wealth, and the utter silence within (save for the occasional sounds of underground flowing water and the stray mob or two) drove a wave of peace over him. He stepped into the cool caves and took a deep breath, breathing in the earth as it enveloped him in a stretched embrace that welcomed him to his second home. Though it was still rather quiet for his comfort, he felt more at ease with the sight of sturdy walls and warm lighting around him. The iron pickaxe that rested against his shoulder yearned to break into the stone around him and liberate his next objective as soon as it possibly could.
He took a less traveled cave route; the one he usually found himself alone with Pickett in, talking the day away as they both got down to business rather quickly. Despite the fact that was evidently why they barely ever came back with a decent amount of ores every trip they took together, unable to fill their individual quotas in a responsible amount of time, he couldn't help but enjoy the time he had with the man, not even minding the fact he could see that they had skipped over a few obvious veins now that he had a clearer view of the cave itself and not just of Pickett.
In fact, he had such a clearer view of the cave that he almost mistook himself for being at the entrance and not within one of its deeper corridors once he became fully aware that he'd been walking in the cavern for a minute or two.
"…Odd…" A whisper left his lips as he looked over the bust of the cave, noticing that somehow, there was more light than usual. Although there seemed to be no indicator of added torches, he found his view to be clear, open, and strangely enough, slightly white instead of yellow.
'…Did I accidentally inhale some fumes from a potion of night vision? Or did my own stash somehow leak into my food?…'
Although some shadows remained, he found himself free of the usual amount of darkness within the unlit portions of the caverns. Shrugging it off, he continued walking down the cave path, stopping every minute or so to collect any stray vein of coal or iron.
'Those potions that the villagers make aren't that good anyways…let alone the bottles used to hold them in. Probably broke one while I was trying to look for food.'
Suddenly, he heard it, the sound that finally broke the eerie silence; a distant sound of approaching footsteps. They sounded slow; deliberate. Not slow in the way that suggested an injury of some kind, but in the way that indicated some sort of intention. One such that didn't wish to alarm him of any incoming harm.
He didn't see anyone or anything approaching the caves while he was outside, how did somebody manage to gain so much ground so fast?
"…Pickett?" His voice called out, only slightly louder than his regular speaking voice.
No response. He turned around to find no one behind him, and looked forward to find no one in front of him as well. He was otherwise totally alone in the caves, save for his accompanying thoughts, which were beginning to run wild as he realized that the sound of footsteps had suddenly halted completely. He felt the hair on his neck bristle as goosebumps lined the surface of his skin, his hand briefly gripping the handle of his pickaxe tightly in fear. Suddenly regretting leaving the comfort of his home so early in the morning once again, Steve let out a nervous laugh as he attempted to convince himself that he wasn't in too much danger at the present moment.
"You know, whenever you sneak up on me, it doesn't really work out for you, Pick."
Nothing but cave ambiance came to his ears, and though his sight was completely fine, he couldn't see any creature around him, no matter how hard he looked. Continuing to walk faster, Steve brought himself to another fork in the road, glancing around carefully for any other sign of another being in the cave.
He let out a shaky sigh.
"…Pickett, if you wanted to mine together, you could've just asked-"
Something hard collided with the back of his head.
Staggering a bit as the sharp feeling of pain centered itself, he lifted a hand to touch the new wound, flinching as he did so, the tips of his fingers becoming coated in fresh blood. Looking down to the floor, he found that cause of his injury was a sharp, heavy jagged bit of rock, slightly covered in coal dust.
What sent his body into a panic wasn't the possibly contaminated rock itself, it was the question of who threw it.
He looked around frantically, though, as before, there was nobody in sight who could've been responsible. Looking straight up, he found that the roof of the cave was smooth, meaning that where the rock must've come from, it had to have been mined out with a pickaxe. He and Pickett often left little rock piles in places whenever they couldn't carry them home, but, again, he was completely alone at the moment.
At least, he hoped he was.
The grip on his pickaxe relaxing, Steve took a few steps into the tunnel that was to the left, glancing back every so often to make sure that there wasn't anybody sneaking up on him. Though he managed to excavate another vein of iron ore, he found that his motivation to continue had dwindled significantly since he first stepped into the cave in the first place. His feet were telling him to run, and frankly, his whole entire body was itching to escape and make its way to the village, where he could surround himself with witnesses just in case he was facing his possible demise here. Finding that he couldn't ignore the feeling any longer, he placed his spoils into his pack and turned to leave, eyes looking frantically around as his breath quickened with the anxiety he found himself wrapped in.
The sound of something sharp scratching along the walls came to his ears, causing him to start briskly walking.
A shrill, louder sound met his ears soon after he'd convinced himself to pick up the pace, tearing at his eardrums with such a ferocity that he hadn't recalled ever hearing before. His blood ran cold and froze as his often-ignored fright instinct kicked in, causing him to stop momentarily as he looked around for the source, bracing himself for any further action. It didn't take long for him to wait for such an event; the smell of rotten flesh came rushing to his nostrils, and a strong, decaying hand clawed its way through the flesh on his back as another cold hand reached for the collar of his shirt to drag him closer. As he was forced to face his second attacker, he caught a brief sight of a pair of almost ethereal purple eyes that stared deeply into his soul in the darkness of the cave.
That quick moment of eye contact made everything worse.
Suddenly, he became very aware of the fact that the shadowy creature had been "narrating" the ambush in the first place as it began to screech once again, unhinging its long, black-fanged jaw. Its tall, black slender body moved briskly out from the shadows, and as it got closer, he noticed that its skin was littered with both faded scars and recent markings. Its claw reached out for him, but, as his body finally remembered that he'd once slayed mobs for a living, he broke away from the zombie that had caught him as it got hit instead. Unfortunately, as he celebrated quietly, he was attacked once again by the other zombie that he'd forgotten about in the heat of the moment.
Height quickly became an issue as said zombie reached for his shirt once again and lifted him up with inhuman strength, staring deeply at him with empty, soulless eyes. He kicked out in an attempt to break himself free, but to no avail; the walking corpse before him was angled in such a way that it was nearly impossible to land a direct hit, let alone brush its skin.
As he attempted to free himself, he found himself becoming an audience to an even stranger sight as he turned away from the monster that held him hostage: the zombie that had attacked him first was clawing frantically at the shadowy beast before it, the blood that had been torn away from the only other living creature there being flung everywhere. Suddenly, as the taller monster got hit with the substance, it disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving the zombie to swing at nothing in total confusion, but, all at the same moment, the beast came back, grabbing at the zombie's arm instead to hoist it up to eye level. It screamed at the undead creature before dropping it violently, turning back to face him at it finally noticed that he was observing them.
Not wanting to have to deal with all three sets of claws piercing his flesh, Steve began to kick out wildly, hoping to at least hit something that would cause the zombie in front of him to let go. Eventually, he managed to land a direct hit to the creature's torso, kicking it hard enough to cause the zombie to stagger and begin to fall, allowing him to escape as he began to think of ways to deal with the remaining threat of the shadow beast.
Finding that he was coming up with nothing spectacular in particular, Steve decided to attempt running away.
Well, mentally he did.
His fight instinct had turned back into fright as his feet refused to cooperate with his brain the longer he looked at the creature's form that was now slightly more visible thanks to a bit of torchlight.
So, that was the monster with purple eyes that everybody had been talking about. He expected a bit more color to cover its features once illuminated by the light, but the lack of anything somewhat threw him off. Steve wanted to analyze the creature before him even more, but found it difficult to do so given the fact that his life was currently in jeopardy.
After a few seconds of blank staring, he finally found the willpower to get his feet to move. Steve attempted an escape, only to be met with the piercing pain of an arrow to the shoulder blade that knocked him off-balance. Not too soon after, he found himself being lifted up again, though this time by the shadow creature, finding his world being turned quite literally upside-down as the beast grabbed his leg and held on tightly to his ankle as it held him in place.
"Perfect. Another one to thin out the menace."
A smooth, calm voice rang throughout the cave, but its origin was clearly not the monster before him. Failing to find the freedom to move his head due to the arrow near his neck, Steve instead used his eyes to look anywhere but straight ahead, unfortunately finding no other possible owner in sight.
"Though, might I say that next time, we leave the zombies out of this? The coordination on this one was sloppy at best, and embarrassing at worst. It's a good thing that we had an archer here to pick up the slack, but if we're going to make any more headway into their numbers, there needs to be more organization for future efficiency."
He looked back up at the monster.
Had it spoken to him through telepathy?
"Oh, don't worry about where I am at the moment. After all, I'll give you the opportunity to see the author of your demise soon enough, right after my friend tears off your limbs and rips out your heart here and now."
Steve attempted to look harder for the owner of the voice before the monster had the chance to do anything of the sort.
…
There. In the further darkness of the cave, Steve saw the outline of a man in the shadow, the only thing visible being his eyes.
Those bright, white eyes.
Those same white eyes that he'd seen in the distance just hours ago.
Sure enough, he caught his gaze as well.
And he froze.
The stranger slowly stepped out from the darkness, and as his form was illuminated, Steve found himself fixated on his strangely familiar features.
Both were wide-eyed.
Both were silent.
Both had similar thoughts peak within their minds.
'He looks like…me?…'
Shock. In his own features and in the expression of the other, there was shock. Confusion maybe, but an overwhelming sense of shock. That shock soon translated into the sensation of too much blood rushing to his head as dizziness soon overwhelmed him, causing his vision to blur a bit.
"…Meil, put him down." Came the delayed command from the other's lips, following a simple wave of the hand.
Without another sound escaping its terrifying maw, the monster stopped its horrid noises and released him rather abruptly, causing him to crumple to the ground as the wind had suddenly been knocked out of him once he made full contact. As he struggled to push himself up by his elbows, he didn't even notice that the stranger had briskly walked up to him until a sharp kick to his stomach knocked the brief amount of air that he had sucked back in right back out of him, and a quick hand lifted up his chin to face the man directly.
"…Who the hell are you?…" His voice was soft and inquisitive, yet all the more demanding.
"…My…m-my…name's…"
The other jerked his hand roughly, causing Steve to go into another coughing fit.
"Speak. Clearer." The two words left his mouth in a harsh command.
Taking a second to himself in an attempt to calm his breathing, much to no avail, the miner's words came out in a wheeze.
"…S-steve...my name…'s…Steve."
The man let him go gently, rising back up to tower over him as he allowed him to choke on air openly.
"Ah."
He pushed back his medium-length brown hair from his face, staring condescendingly back down at Steve.
"I assume you know who I am, correct? No need for an introduction?"
Steve looked back up at him, directly into his strange, striking eyes. The second he made eye contact, however, another swift kick to his chest brought his gaze back to the ground and sent him into another coughing frenzy.
"Apparently not, then. You don't clearly know enough to realize that you don't have the right to look me in the eyes without my permission."
Once the man was done chastising him, Steve opened his mouth reluctantly with his gaze focused on the other's black, armored boots out of fear.
"…W-who…are you?…I've…n-never-"
"-Really…you don't recognize me? For real?…"
The man tilted his head to the side in confusion, almost comically staring down at the miner. He quickly gave a look to the beast that had fallen in place behind him and shrugged.
"Well. First introductions are everything, so it's best for you to learn my name rather quickly."
More quickly than he would've appreciated, Steve found himself being grabbed by the neck and forcefully shoved against the wall as he was thrown back onto his feet, facing another glowing pair of angry eyes.
"They call me Herobrine. And for your information, I absolutely, positively hate your kind. All humans, really, I don't have any particular favorites that come to mind." He said rather nonchalantly to Steve.
"I-I…can...tell…" the miner struggled to breathe out.
"But…you intrigue me. You wear my face. You wear shorter hair, of course, but without that…you look exactly like me."
"I-I…n-noticed…"
The stranger dropped the miner as he collapsed once again, pathetically left to cough wildly upon the floor.
"Who are you? Truly? Steven, is it? Why do you suppose that we're mirrored?"
"Y-you think…I'd know that?" More composed, Steve raised his volume a bit, albeit with a raspy tone in his voice.
"Of course not. I'd be smart to not put faith in someone who didn't even know who I was in the first place. Didn't your mother ever warn you of the Great Herobrine? Did nobody ever tell you those stories about me leveling nations, burning villages, and everything in between?"
The name didn't particularly strike any strong chords within him.
"No…I've never heard about you…in my life...Even if I did, I wouldn't have cared…" Steve's voice was quiet.
The man looked rather offended by his response.
"And why is that?…"
"I just…I don't care about that kind of stuff…"
"Why not?"
Why not? Worrying about things that were mostly out of his control wasn't something that Steve wished to do. Worrying about the things the villagers were afraid of wasn't something he wanted to do, because he knew that in the end, if he expressed that worry in any sort of way, they'd be picking him next in order to be thrown out into the wild to deal with said problems, whether or not they truly existed.
Most likely, the thing that they were so frightened of may have been the man standing in the front of him right now, threatening his life using only his harsh glare and strong hands.
"…I don't know." Lying to the other may not have been what he intended to do, but he didn't owe this guy anything, let alone access to his inner thoughts.
The man tched and turned away, not satisfied with his answer.
"…It would've been better for you to have had somebody warn you in the first place."
Herobrine stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowing as he thought to himself.
"…You live near here, yes?"
"…Y-Yeah."
"In that house by the lake, or the village?"
Considering the fact that the other appeared to be not so certain about who he saw through the window the night prior, Steve lied.
"...Village."
Herobrine remained silent for a moment, before swiftly moving to kick him once again, resulting in a more-than-certain crack that Steve knew he wouldn't be able to just sleep off later. This time around, Steve coughed up blood, beginning to see stars as the other dug his foot into the wound that he'd just caused.
As his vision began to get a bit blurry, Steve looked up to see the other turn away from him, beginning his walk back towards the inner cavern.
"I'll leave you be for the time being until I figure out what exactly I should do with you. Consider it a parting gift."
The stranger suddenly paused in his departure, looking back over his shoulder at the miner with a devious grin on his face as he motioned for his beastly friends to follow him.
"Oh, by the way, Steven, it'd do you well to listen to this; don't tell anyone about our meeting here. It'd be a shame for me to have to kill you or anybody else, now would it?"
Steve gave no reply. Herobrine continued his walk back into the inner halls of the cave without any further response.
Lying on the floor for a moment as he waited for most of his pain to subside, Steve repeated the previous events in his head a couple of times over, trying to make any sense of it.
What the heck just happened?
How did he manage to survive that?
Instead of dwelling on it for too long, the miner chose to not look a gift horse in the mouth and simply grabbed his bearings, along with his previously-forgotten mined ores, and went the opposite direction of the other; limping, but alive. He found that his somewhat-heightened sight ability had worn off, giving him only the previously-lit torches as a means of ever escaping the cave. As he continued to drag his battered body around, he began to hear the distant sounds of monsters once again, bringing back the ambiance that he would've killed to hear a solid few minutes ago.
He'd nearly collapsed as he reached the first torch he found, taking a moment to stop and lean against the walls as a means of support before he had the chance to lose all consciousness entirely. Checking himself briefly to make sure that he had the strength to move on, Steve made his way towards the exit slowly.
Apparently, there were more reasons to up his outdoor security.
'…I'm never going out this early to mine again.'
His throat hurt. His body hurt. His chest burned. His legs ached as they drove him back towards his house under the rising sun.
'Gah…Pickett, you should've at least walked me to where the ores were…'
Steve shook his head to himself right after the thought had popped up.
He finally made it to his house, safe, but somewhat doubtedly sound. Steve stared at his front door for a silent moment.
'It would've been easier to deal with the zombies, but fighting against those other two? We both would've died…who the heck is Herobrine anyways to have posed a threat like that?…'
He opened his door gently. His blinds were still partially open, of course, but he found no reason to keep them that way. Immediately, he dumped his items on the floor and limped to the pair of blinds that he saw just above his fairly-used couch, closing them softly as if he would disturb the perfect image of the outside world.
'Why did he have to look like me of all people?…'
Steve slowly made his way into his bedroom, collapsing on the soft mattress before reluctantly closing the blinds once again. He groaned softly, letting his arms flop back down onto the bed in a show of pure exhaustion. Forgetting about the existence of his chest injuries, he gasped for air as he was nearly blinded by the choking rush of pure agony that hit him, forcing his body to stiffen up as he waited for the waves to wash away. Slowly but surely, his eyes began to close as he numbed his thoughts to the pain. He instead chose to focus on the bizarre nature of the meeting; from the abrupt change of having the crap beaten out of him, to dying, to being spared, and then to finding Herobrine in the first place before he lost consciousness.
A few minutes passed, and a knock at the front door stirred him from his focus.
He groaned loudly.
"Go. Away." He shouted, face pressed into the fabric beneath him.
"Steve? I was just coming to check if you wanted to get those ores today! I figured that I could show you where they were!"
Pickett.
His offer was welcomed, but it came way too late. Steve's fatigue was more beckoning. His vision was blurring, the pain in his body was coming stronger in waves with every small movement he made, and he couldn't even fathom spending more of his energy in keeping up a conversation.
"I'm fine, just…leave me alone for now, okay?-"
"-I'm letting myself in, Stevie!"
Crap.
Before the other could get the opportunity to ask any questions about it, Steve took a quick breath, reached for the arrow that laid buried in his shoulder, and quickly yanked it out in a shaky motion, letting out a quick yelp before he threw the arrow across the room, hoping that his friend wouldn't spot it. The wound immediately began to bleed, but given his other injuries, he suspected that it wouldn't be too noticeable among the others.
Steve rolled over on the bed to face the open doorway, squinting with annoyance as his eyes focused on Pickett's massive frame filling in the gap. The other miner's expression fell as he finally noticed the state that his friend was in.
"Steve! You look awful, man! What happened to you?!"
Suddenly, the words of the shadowy Herobrine rang deep within his thoughts, stirring him from opening his own mouth.
"Don't tell anyone about our meeting here. It'd be a shame for me to kill you or anybody else, now would it?"
He didn't want to see if the other would keep his word or not, so he chose to play it safe.
"Uhh…nothing?" He hesitantly answered, mentally slapping himself in the face for allowing his voice to sound so unsure.
Pickett raised a brow.
"Stevie, I may be dumb as bolts, but I'm not stupid. You can't be looking like that and also say that absolutely nothing happened to ya!"
The younger miner took a deep, shaky breath, summoning the energy to sit up on his bed as he looked at the other with what he hoped was fake embarrassment.
"…Fine, you know I couldn't lie to you, Pick. I went deeper into our own cavern, and I tripped and fell down a large gap, and hurt myself badly. There. I said it." He said as nonchalantly as possible, despite the look of sudden sadness on the other's face.
"Stevie…it's not…a bad thing to admit that you got hurt, even if it's by yourself…" Pickett responded in an apologetic tone, moving to the younger miner's side.
"But it's embarrassing..." Steve winced, slightly out of breath due to his efforts to keep up a normal conversation despite his struggling lungs.
"But it's necessary for personal growth! You gotta be able to admit when you had a misstep in judgment."
"Yeah but-" A hiss escaped his lips once Pickett moved his arms out of the way and placed gentle hands on his leg and stomach, touching the now heavily-bruised skin. The man lifted up his shirt, cringing once he saw the deep markings left over from what he assumed to be close contact with cavern rocks.
"Agh, Steve…you've gotta get these fixed, man…"
"They'll heal faster if you stop touching them." Steve took his shirt and pulled it aggressively back down over his skin, not soon after regretting his actions as another shockwave of pain hit him.
Pickett let go of the fabric reluctantly, slightly stunned by the reaction, but quickly brushed it off with a small smile.
"You want a potion of healing, Steve?"
Steve nodded to the best of his ability.
"Yeah, and some silence. Also, a house with one less intruder in it when you're done."
Pickett snorted, patting the other's shoulder in jest.
"Y'know, I'm only trying to help, Steve. Don't get all Mr. Lonely-Isolation on me!"
Steve chuckled in return, slightly thankful that Pickett had avoided the shoulder where the arrowhead had once been.
"Can't help it right now, Pick."
Pickett turned around and went to his potion cabinet, grabbing him the necessary bottles that he needed. Upon his return, he found Steve beginning to doze off once again.
"It's too early to go to bed yet, Stevie! One potion of healing and one potion of regeneration coming up!" Pickett exclaimed with enthusiasm, chuckling when Steve groaned quite loudly.
He forced the other miner to drink both, and left him to finally rest once both had been completely consumed.
"Rest easy, Stevie. I wanna see you in tip-top shape tomorrow for when we go mining together! This time, I'll prevent you from messing yourself up again!"
Steve nodded and fell asleep, while Pickett left the building as quietly as possible.
When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his body had gone from being actively in deep pain, to just being overtly sore.
The next thing he noticed was that he had no idea of what time it was.
Looking at the clock, he found that it was about 6 in the afternoon. Normally, he'd still be in the mines right about now, but instead, he was a mess with a possible case of a broken rib, sprawled out on his bed as he tried to focus on anything that wasn't his healing injuries. The second that his thoughts turned over to the mysterious being that had caused those injuries in the first place, he let out a groan as he silently prayed to never see the strange man again.
Given that the other had said that he'd only leave Steve alone 'for the time being', the words gave him even more anxiety. When would he be coming back? Would he be intending to lay the finishing blow on him, or would he just be monitoring him for the rest of his life, providing a never-ending sense of fear and dread?
By all means, he hoped that the man would choose the first option and give him some semblance of mercy.
And what about that new creature that was with him? It seemed to answer immediately to his commands, so it wasn't just unreasonable to believe that he had complete control over it and the rest of its kind. Especially since he seemed to control the other three mobs that were present in the mines with them.
'What did he call that one, anyways?…M…Meil?'
Was that the creature's name, or was that what its species as a whole was called? Meil, or Meils?
Whatever the case was, the miner knew for certain that, for as long as he were to live, he didn't want to fight one in close contact, even if he was decked out in armour and properly armed. The creature's long claws had been as sharp as a diamond blade when they were clasped shut around his ankle, and he counted himself rather lucky that Pickett hadn't caught any of the other marks that he had gotten from the encounter, otherwise, his impromptu story might've fallen completely apart.
Nothing compared to the feeling that he got from staring into the creature's eyes, however.
Something had rushed into his veins with every passing second he spent staring into the creature's vibrant eyes, and he couldn't exactly describe it in any other way that didn't boil down into fear. Well, he actually felt both fear and something else, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Anger? Sadness? Angry-sadness? The creature's gaze had been utterly clouded with murderous intent up until the point where it was given the command to release him, which was when all emotion drained from its eyes and it was left to walk away with a blank, empty gaze on its features. Somehow, that stare itself disturbed him more than the primal rage that had almost killed him.
He almost preferred the claws to the gaze, but quickly remembered that only one of those had the ability to mortally wound him, as far as he knew.
Groaning at the memory of his first close encounter with the creature, Steve buried his head into the surface of his pillow, trying to smother his thoughts as best as he could before he lost any more time that would've better been spent thinking about his workload for the next day.
He'd have to double up his ore count to make up for the day he was being forced to take off, but there was no way he was going to return to the mines alone anytime soon, or at all. Maybe he would just get the ores that he managed to find and smelt them down at home to avoid straining himself too much, but the sooner he could get to work, the better.
He closed his eyes and tried to drift off into sleep once again.
…
…
..
What if either the creature or this so-called "Herobrine" figured out that he'd lied to them?
…
What if they broke into his house?
…
He wasn't going to get good enough sleep, was he?…
…
Shaking off his thoughts once again, Steve tried to force himself to sleep harder.
Eventually, his breathing evened out, and he managed to actually fall asleep.
Hours later, Steve awoke to find a strange blur of green and orange in his vision as he realized that the room was dark and that it was now firmly night, or at the very least, it was the very early hours of the morning. Though the room was colder than a distant tundra, it hadn't yet gotten cold enough to create snowfall. It was getting pretty close to that temperature, though, and Steve found himself longing for the days of summer, where the blazing heat scorched him instead of the freezing cold. Even more, he wished that it was either Spring or Autumn since the in-between weather always seemed just right for any and all outdoor activities.
Snuggling into the blankets around his body, Steve shut his eyes again, trying to fall back into a quiet slumber. The sun would warm him well enough once it properly rose up into the sky.
…
…
…
'Wait…huh?…Orange and green?…'
Opening his eyes and awakening his other senses, he realized that he wasn't exactly alone anymore.
His eyes focused to find a boy in front of him, his head covered in wild orange hair with half his face bandaged up, and his body covered in green, tattered fabric that had been splashed with layers of dirt and what he could only hope wasn't blood. He wore a hood that Steve spotted only last after everything else, and it was only a moment before finally registered that the boy was poking his face continuously.
'…Whose kid broke into my house?…'
"Sir, he's alive! He didn't bleed to death!" Came a shrill, boyish voice from the other's mouth with excitement.
The voice hurt his ears as he became more and more aware of the fact that he now had a slight pain-induced headache that he knew he'd have to nurse away soon enough.
"And according to your forces, he didn't snitch?"
That voice sounded too similar to the one he wished that he would never hear again.
"Nope! His record is clean!"
Steve looked over to find that indeed, his doppelganger had managed to break into his house. However, he found himself letting out a slight sigh of relief at the fact that the other hadn't brought his terrifying, shadowy friend back with him. That relief was immediately replaced with utter panic as it dawned on him once again that the guy was inside of his house.
Herobrine shrugged and rolled his eyes at the other's report. Blowing a strand of chestnut-colored hair away from his face, he genuinely appeared upset by the news he was given.
"Aw, what a shame. I was looking forward to killing another little rebel today."
"Hey, but you said you wanted to keep him around!"
The boy was met with a harsh glare.
"Constiere. We don't let secrets out like that. C'mon, let my intentions at least have time to fester before they're figured out like that…"
"But sir, he still doesn't know why you want to keep him around…it'd be nice to give him some hints..."
Steve felt like he was having a fever dream, listening to their nonchalant conversation about sparing his own life. He desperately wanted to close his eyes and wake up to the rising sun, hearing nothing but the sounds of nature around him. Maybe he could fall asleep before they got him to do anything against his will, so he closed his eyes once again, attempting to drown their voices out.
"...Fair enough, you have a point. Hey, Steven? Get up. We all know that you're awake, now let's make sure that we don't get bored with keeping you alive and not sparing you the conversation."
Well, at least he tried.
As he opened his eyes, he found that the small Constiere was now squatting at the foot of his bed, while the other remained leaning against his wooden plank wall, arms crossed, waiting for him to call to action.
Steve quietly groaned in response, slowly forcing himself to rise up. Finding that the pain within his gut had significantly diminished thanks to the potions he had earlier at least, he was eager to finally be able to sit up properly again without much of his earlier soreness, albeit nervously due to the circumstance he was in. Despite the brain fog that surrounded him, he was rather shocked that both of the intruders before him had found their way into his house, though he fully expected to find a broken window somewhere once he stepped out of the bedroom.
"There we go. See Steven? Everything does turn out better when you listen. Now, come with us. We decided to kidnap you for the time being for some…interrogation. Don't be shy; after all, if we do decide to kill you, it'll be swift and with as little pain as possible…given that we contain ourselves, of course."
The other's mischievous tone almost made him nauseous enough to vomit. Steve felt as if he was trapped within a nightmare, unable to wake up or convince himself that this was indeed reality. Of course, he felt scared for his life, but given the fact that this somehow benevolent 'legend' spared him solely because of their identical features, he couldn't help but feel some sort of twisted ease with him and his apparent servant. He stood up from his mattress and rubbed his eyes, noticing how his double looked over his body without hesitation.
"You didn't even bother to change from earlier? What, you wear my face and make yourself an embarrassment?"
Given that he clearly didn't have the upper hand in this situation, Steve attempted (and thankfully succeeded) to hold back the urge to slap the other.
"No…I…I didn't have the energy to do that. You kicked me multiple times in the stomach, and you nearly choked me to death, so…"
Herobrine shrugged at him.
"Good point. Come with us."
The other two walked out of his room as if they didn't break into his house in the first place, beckoning him to follow right behind. A sense of dread filled his body as he quickly remembered that they were heading outside in the dark and the last time he found himself alone he nearly ended up dying, subconsciously forcing him to grab a dull, stone sword off of the mantle of his small fireplace. The two that were leading him stopped momentarily once they heard the sound of shifting metal, and Herobrine let out an annoyed sigh.
"That won't be necessary, but bring it if you wish. If it gives you comfort, then by all means, make yourself a target."
Steve slowly put back the sword, looking over its hilt one last time before following the two out of his house. They were met with the unusual sight of a completely cleared area again, with no mobs in view whatsoever. As he looked up to see the beautiful night sky he caught himself stationed in awe instead of anxiousness, hearing nothing harmful and seeing no harm before him.
Well, besides the potential murderers in front of him.
He kept his pace up with the others, soon realizing that they were making their way to the village mines once again, confusing him immensely.
"Wait, the mines? Why are we going there?" He asked quietly, casting glances to the cave entrance.
"For recovery purposes. If one were to find you when we're done, they'll find you there." Herobrine stated calmly.
"Why not just bring me back home? Or better yet, let me go by myself without the threat of mobs?"
Constiere blew his tongue at him.
"Because stupid, that wouldn't be any fun! Master wants to test how sentimental these other humans really are, and what better way to do that than to let them search for you themselves?"
Steve realized the gravity of his situation. Maybe because he finally woke up mentally from when he was rudely awakened earlier, or maybe because the pain he had since forgotten began to give him phantom pings of danger, but he indeed realized that these two intended to harm him once again.
"Now, now. We won't test my theory yet, because like I said, we're here to interrogate and study. For research purposes." Herobrine explained rather slowly, deliberately dragging out his words as if to patronize the miner.
"And because we felt like it!"
"And because Constiere wants to finally get in on my little quest to figure out why you wear my face."
They approached the entrance to the cave, slowing their pace as they checked around for any unexpected visitors. As Herobrine led the two into the cave, he, very noticeably to Steve, knocked out a torch or two, clearly on purpose.
On their impromptu journey, Steve noticed that he was being led into the same tunnel that he'd been attacked in the other day, presumably because that was the only pathway that they'd ever seen him travel in. Though it seemed like they had been walking for an eternity, the three of them didn't go too far deep into the tunnel, only deep enough to have the only source of light be the various torches sprinkled everywhere.
Herobrine looked over his shoulder to speak to him, continuing to walk down the pathway.
"Now, first question. Where did you come from? Originally? I know for certain that you weren't born in this dinky little village, yes? You certainly look foreign, at least compared to the others around here that I've seen…"
Steve narrowed his eyes at him.
"First of all, this village isn't all that dinky. Second, I don't know where I came from. All I know is that I was adopted and raised in a city named Crystalia, and I came here from there not too long ago."
Herobrine looked away in disgust.
"Ugh. Of course you're Crystalian. I noticed that you built your house a bit like their upper quarter estates, but that's beside the point. You were adopted? By who?"
Slightly surprised that the other was familiar with his hometown, Steve shook off his shock and quickly put on a serious face.
"None of your business, that's who."
Herobrine threw his hands up mockingly.
"Sheesh, don't get all defensive so quickly, I still have a couple more questions, that's all."
Steve crossed his arms.
"Go ahead."
The three of them stopped walking as they continued their conversation, both of the two in front of Steve turning to face him. Herobrine's glare remained harsh as he silently forced Steve to avert his gaze.
"Have you ever seen a portal before?"
The miner tilted his head to the side a bit in confusion.
"A what?…"
He found that his actions were mirrored.
"You...you've never heard of a portal? One made of obsidian, perhaps? Maybe glows-"
"-I literally have no idea what you're talking about. At all."
The other turned towards his servant with what appeared to be a distressed expression of shock. The boy before him was equally as surprised, even a bit disturbed, possibly.
"No portal? How have you not heard of a portal before?"
Steve was slightly amused by the fact that he had managed to catch Herobrine so off-guard.
"I just haven't. Maybe I've heard about them briefly in a children's story or two, but I don't remember."
"You let that kind of information just slip by?"
"Yeah. Sorry if I don't choose to believe in fairytales." Steve said, rolling his eyes.
The miner knew he was testing the other's patience by giving him a bit of sass, but he figured if he was going to be attacked anyway, he might as well make sure he was attacked hard enough to knock him out cold so he wouldn't be in pain for too long. His efforts were only confirmed by the other's annoyed gaze.
"…Had I not appeared to you in person, if you had been told about me prior to our first encounter, would you have debated my existence as well? What makes you so…sure that portals don't exist now?"
The question made Steve pause and think to himself for a moment.
Yes, he most likely would've just pushed the concept of the man before him to the side like all other stories, especially if it wasn't a pressing issue to consider. But also, if he'd been given a picture of how the other looked, he might've been interested in keeping him in his mind.
He had been conditioned to ignore the strange and the magical, so what else was he supposed to say?
"…We don't really talk about any of that stuff here…it's not fun to think about."
"Other dimensions and the like isn't fun to consider to you all?"
"If it doesn't affect us directly, no."
Herobrine stared at him with no other expression other than sudden boredom.
"Well, if you really think everything is a fairytale now, then simply enough, we can put this conversation to rest until someone comes and cleans you up again. I just wanted to know a bit more about some things before I decide on what we'll be doing in the future."
He paused, giving his companion a glance before looking back at Steve once again.
"...But before we do, one last question. What is your village known for, particularly?"
The question confused the miner.
"Like...export wise, or...?"
"Anything. What is your village famous for?"
Steve shrugged.
"...I dunno. I guess that we were one of the first villages to install like...protection to our wooden buildings to prevent fires caused by lightning bolts, but other than that? We send out a bunch of iron and stuff. That's pretty much it."
Herobrine stared at him for a moment, attempting to read his expression to see if he was telling the truth or not.
Content with his answer, the man waved him off.
"Well, that'll suffice for now."
Happy that their conversation was finally over, Steve let his arms drop down to his sides as he let out a groan, dropping to the floor as he stared down at the stone beneath him. Slightly relieved at the notion that he'd be able to get some rest again, he braced himself for the wounds on his torso to get significantly worse.
"Let's just get this over with. Kick me in the head or whatever so I can finally get some proper rest…"
He heard a snicker from above.
"You thought I was going to just kick you unconscious?…"
A hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced him to look up at the other once again.
"Why else do you think I brought my friend here in the first place, especially when I could've gone alone?…"
The next words that left the other's mouth sent a chill down his spine.
"You shouldn't have lied to me."
Steve began to smell the scent of something burning, and he heard a growing hissing noise from right behind him.
"Goodnight, sweet prince. I'll see you again soon."
With that, Herobrine seemingly disappeared out of the area without a trace, a split second before Steve became suddenly numb.
An explosion. A sharp pain spread across his body. Burning. A cold, wet stone floor. Blood in his vision. Fire in his veins. Creeping unconsciousness. The smell of blood overwhelming his other senses. His legs refused to move. Burning.
Sleep.
"…"
The distant sound of distressed voices reached his ears, but for the life of him, he couldn't understand what they were saying.
"…e…"
He felt his body being lifted. His vision blurred with unfamiliar shapes and sights.
"…S…v..e"
Light came into his vision and burned his blood-crusted eyes. It was morning. Midday, possibly, though he couldn't be sure.
"…St…e!"
Warmth met his skin. A burning sensation met his skin. His throat felt dry, his bones felt weak in some places and completely missing in others. A rush of screaming and yelling filled the quiet space in his head, yet he didn't seem that much bothered to even care.
"…"
He went back to sleep.
Light.
He awoke to a film of light streaked across his face. The window next to him was open, letting a cool breeze wash over him as he sat up to view his surroundings.
Pain.
He laid back down. His bones were weak, and so was his ability to remain fully conscious. As his head made contact with the pillow beneath him, his brain recollected the memories of what had happened the last time he was fully awake, catching the rest of his body up to speed.
He had been kidnapped. He was questioned. He was given a full-on explosion as a parting gift. Most likely from a stick of TNT, but he wouldn't be surprised if a creeper had managed to sneak up on him as well.
He was rescued.
Steve looked around the room as he realized that he wasn't in his own house, nor his own bed. Bookshelves, a brewing stand with active potions, and a few stranded materials laid upon a nearby desk were what caught his vision briefly before the chair in the corner of the room, where sat a sleeping Pickett, who was hunched over snoring.
"…Pick?…" His voice was extremely hoarse, scratchy, and weak, but yet, it caught the attention of the man in question, who awoke from his slumber to face Steve with a worried look on his face.
"S-Steve! Oh man, I thought you were…nevermind that, how'd you end up-"
"…l-long story…" His voice didn't feel like it was even his to use.
Pickett rushed to his bedside, looking over his apparently newly-bandaged wounds.
"…Why were you in the cave at night?…" He asked softly, looking at Steve as if he would suddenly break into a million pieces all at once.
"I didn't wanna go down there while I was still healing up, but I figured that my orders would pile up and take too long to finish, so I went around late in the afternoon, and…there…t-there was a creeper behind me..." the younger miner lied, his eyes looking down at the blanket that was covering him in order to avoid the other's saddened gaze.
"Oh Steve…"
Suddenly, the door to the library flung open, and both of the miners jumped at the startling sound.
"Pickett! Why didn't you tell me the boy was up?!"
They were both interrupted by a shrill voice barging in, its owner carrying a basket of herbs and spices as different as the eyes could possibly number.
The owner of the quick check-in, check-out clinic, a shrewd old lady named Railey (who happened to also be Pickett's grandmother), came into Steve's view, fiercely glaring at Pickett as she waited for his response.
"Nan, I-"
"No excuses! Now move over so that I can treat him properly-"
The old lady rushed up to his bedside, only to stop in her tracks and drop her basket abruptly on the small desk beside the bed.
"…Purple eyes?…You didn't tell me he had purple eyes either…" Her voice trailed off in wonder, not noticing the amused smirk that Steve had given her.
"Well, to be precise, they're violet-"
The lady shushed him, looking him over for a moment as she shook her head.
"You should've been dead by now, boy... Last I checked, your neck was broken, and so was the rest of you. Pickett brought you over to the other medical center at first; I thought you were a lost cause, but he insisted that we leave you there anyway. They did most of the regular work and brought you to me afterward to finish your treatment with a few potions, but you weren't supposed to recover this fast without them!"
Steve wanted to shrug, but found that he couldn't.
"I have to thank the medics for that one, I don't think my body has anything to do with that."
The lady flicked him on the forehead, drawing a quick "Ouch!" from his lips.
"No, boy! I mean that you should've been out like a light right now! The rest of your body is still in tatters, and...wait a moment."
Lifting up the sheets of the bed for a moment, Railey looked over his bandaged injuries, grazing him with her fingers as her eyes widened in slight shock.
"You've stopped bleeding. The bandages are dried out."
"What."
"What?"
Both Steve and Pickett stared at her with confusion, the news quite surprising them both.
"I'm sorry ma'am, but what did you say again-"
"You-Wow... Two days ago you were as cold as ice! You barely had any blood in your body, and the medical center was barely able to sew you up while you continued to bleed out on a few different sets of sheets...I had to change a couple even after you got brought here...and now you're fine! They certainly don't make folks like how they used to!" A laugh left her lips as she covered him back up, going to shift through the contents of the basket.
Shocked at the discovery that he had been knocked out for longer than he previously thought, Steve doubted that he was completely fine.
"...Was I...dead?"
The lady snickered in response to his question.
"Apparently not enough! You did get pretty close, though. Now, if you refrain from moving, I think that you'll heal up better and finally get some more blood to your limbs, there. You're still looking a bit paler, so I wouldn't exert yourself too much, young man."
Now, it was Pickett's turn to laugh.
"Nan, I don't think he's planning on that anytime soon."
"You can never be too sure! A lot of idiots go around, get hurt enough to find themselves in a few tumbles, then think that they can just bounce right back into action! I need to make sure that your friend here isn't the same, since he just barely came out of whatever he experienced alive!"
As Railey began to grind a few herbs down in a bowl, Steve mulled over her words carefully, finding that his brain fog was beginning to subside a bit more.
Had he died? Or had he been just exceptionally close to death?
He'd fallen victim to an explosion caused by a creeper in the past, but it had taken place in the water, and he'd been lucky enough to have been at a far enough distance away from the blast to not have sustained such serious injuries. This explosion, however? It was a million times worse, but...he'd survived it, thanks to his friend. He was certain that a few of his bones had evaporated in the aftermath of the blast, but, as he sat quietly to assess the damage, he felt like his bones were okay, just they were only taking the time to heal slowly. His flesh had felt like it had been melted off, but he looked down, and found that it was still there, just that it was mostly covered in bandages. He was just numb, but by all accounts, he should've been numb in the way that was followed closely by his spirit leaving his body.
"Now, hang tight. I'm going to brew these into a potion and give it to you shortly. Pickett, make sure that he doesn't open anything that we've closed, alright?" Railey instructed, stepping away from the bed to head into the other room.
Steve went back to thinking.
...
Speaking of being rescued, how had Pickett known where he was?
"...Pick?..." His throat still hurt, but he managed to raise his volume a bit.
"Yeah Steve?"
"...How did you know where to find me?"
Pickett appeared to look genuinely upset at the memory of what had occurred.
"...I was walking from the meadery when I heard the explosion. I was almost too out of it to go and check it out, but then I remembered that sometimes, when you mine by yourself, you tend to stay down here for a while. I wanted to make sure that it wasn't you, but uh...we know how that, um, turned out." Pickett awkwardly laughed at the end, giving Steve a look of sympathy.
"I'm sorry I didn't get there quick enough."
Steve was surprised by the other's apology.
"You...Why are you apologizing? If you hadn't gotten there at all, I would've been dead for sure. You would've found my corpse later, not me."
"I know that it turned out fine, but...I could've been quicker. I kind of, well, tripped the entire way there."
Steve snorted, though the action brought a sharp sting of pain to his chest as he let out a bit of laughter afterward.
"You got there, at least. Thank you."
Now embarrassed, Pickett joined in with his laughter.
"Anytime, Steve."
When Railey eventually got back from her potion brewing, she brought along with her three freshly-made potions, all varying in color.
"Now, I'm sure that you have more sleep you need to get back to, but I'll have to stop you right there! When the doctors over at the center gave you back to us, they said that while they were patching you up, they noticed that you had a couple of traces of zombie blood in one of your previous wounds. Now, granted, it wasn't enough to turn you, but you can never be too sure, so before we do anything else, I'll be giving you a potion of weakness to kill off anything else that might be there!"
Steve let out a quiet sigh.
"Alright...ugh, I hate weakness potions."
"It won't be too bad, I'll give you the others right away so you won't have to feel too bad for too long!"
Despite Railey's enthusiasm, Steve only found himself dreading the potion even more.
Stepping up to the miner, the medic uncorked the bottle that the weakness potion was in and pressed the nozzle up to Steve's lips, which he opened reluctantly to down the potion as best as he could. Once it had all been consumed, Steve groaned as he began to feel the effects of the potion slowly wash over him.
"Now, here's the other two. Health first, to raise your spirits and get rid of that filthy attitude-"
"-Hey!"
Before he could object to the other's teasing words any more, Steve found the aforementioned potion in front of his face, to which he met with the rolling of his eyes. Downing that one and its companion, a regeneration potion, soon after, Steve began to relax as he let the potions do their work.
"Thank you, Railey. That wasn't so bad." Steve gave her a weak smile, though he wished he could do more.
The lady smiled back.
"Anytime, boy! You know, actually, not anytime. Don't go around getting hurt again! I don't want you coming back here unless you want to buy a book, or something!"
Steve chuckled at her words.
"I'll try to contain myself. Some of it isn't directly my fault, y'know?"
"Sure. Just be safe, alright?"
Railey turned away to leave the bedside, but stopped suddenly. She looked back at Steve, seemingly examining him.
"...You know, Your resilience is something truly remarkable. Miraculous, even."
Her eyes lit up with excitement as Steve raised a brow at her words.
"I think you're capable enough for the Elder to consider."
Her words made his blood run cold. Possibly even colder than it had been when he was unconscious.
Was she part of the selection process?
Pickett let out a laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Nan, he's still recovering! At least give him a moment before you spring that on him!"
"...Spring what?" The words left his mouth in almost a whisper.
"Ah, while you were asleep, I was marveling at how you managed to survive at the medical center, and then it dawned on me that other people might've not been able to do the same! I thought, 'Hey, maybe the Elder would be interested in seeing this fine young man if he makes it through,' and you did, so I wanted to recommend you to him! Oh, but not before I knew a bit more about you, so I discussed it with Pickett. He seems to think that you're capable enough as well!"
Steve cast a worried glare in the other miner's direction, who simply offered a shrug in response.
"Did you...did you already tell the Elder?..." Looking back at her, Steve became a bit more upset.
Railey shook her head.
"No! We were taking care of you! But, I suppose since that now all you're doing is resting up, I can take you over there once you're able to stand on your own once again, though I doubt that'll be too long!"
This isn't what he wanted.
This isn't anything like what he wanted.
Steve looked down at his hands as the words of the other bounced around in his head, pulling him deeper into devastation as they repeated over and over again.
Was he about to be selected as the town's new champion?
"Steve, hey!"
A waving hand met his eyes as Pickett's voice reached his ears.
"Look, my nan is only going to recommend you to the Elder. It's not like you'll actually be chosen, you'll just be evaluated. My nan doesn't choose the champions here, he does."
That did nothing to ease his fears.
Finding that Steve's distant expression didn't falter, Pickett sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder once again.
"You'll be fine, Steve. He doesn't just choose anybody he finds or anybody that's brought to him, it'll be over soon enough, and you won't have to worry about it any more than you have to, alright? Chill out!"
Chill out? Chill out?!
His future was in jeopardy of being ripped right out from under him, and he was just supposed to chill out?!
If he had the ability to move without feeling like his bones were screaming at him, he would've nearly tackled Pickett right there and then.
"...Sure." That was all he could say, not even feeling the energy to hold an angered tone.
Despite the fact that Railey and Pickett were content in putting a good word for him, Steve just wished that he could escape from the situation entirely, whether it be through death or another sort of way. If he were to become their new champion, that would surely mark the beginning of his last few days on the planet, at the end of which he'd meet his demise by some sort of vicious, hungry mob that longed for his flesh.
At least he had experience in dealing with mobs, though. It wouldn't be too quick of a death by them, anyway.
Apart from that, he could certainly expect some sort of added visit from Herobrine, whether he wanted to see the other again, or not. If he in particular found out that he was a champion, what would stop him from attacking and killing him as a warning to the rest of his village? What would stop him from going after not just him, but everybody else that he knew?
There were just too many things going on for his overwhelmed body to handle. Hopefully, Pickett was right, and he could just go back to simply worrying about his job and the danger that Herobrine was bringing into his life.
Lol now we're getting into it
Honestly speaking, Herobrine is one of my favorite characters to write about because he's so delightfully mischievous in my eyes, but he also has a viciousness to him that makes him fun! Idk how fast I wanted to introduce him properly to the plot, but uhhh we're here now. He's just taking some mobs out for some target practice now that he's found a new village to mess with :)
Speaking of Steve's village, here are some more fun facts about it!
1.) The village has two medical centers! The one that Railey takes care of kinda doubles as a pharmacy/medical book shop. The other, bigger one that acts more like a hospital was created back when the village walls didn't yet exist, so more and more people were prone to injuries caused by attacking mobs. Now, it just kind of exists, for the most part, to check up on people.
2.) The village is more notable for its iron exports, despite what Steve thinks. In fact, this village is one of the biggest iron sources in their region, if not THE biggest, despite its smaller population.
3.) Potions, in particular, are imported from other places instead of being created by Railey, since the ones that she makes have more serious medicinal uses, and she uses more ingredients in her creations than the typical brewer (which makes them higher quality potions, lol). Since they want to save her potions for more troubling injuries, the village comes to her mostly for medical books and smaller injuries (whenever the bigger clinic is too busy).
That's all for now!
Leave a review if you have any thoughts or comments!
