[Chapter 2: The Overworld]

John's jaw dropped open as his feet touched the cool grassy dirt. He was really in Minecraft…is what he would say if it looked anything remotely like the game.

Maybe that was a bit harsh. To be fair, the terrain and colors definitely matched the vibe. The coloration was so vibrant—almost oversaturated—unlike the dull, desaturated colors you'd see in the 'real world'.

Towering spruce trees with beautiful green leaves can be seen in the distance, huge mountains with large jagged peaks matched with rolling hills, and wide plains that seem to stretch on and on.

"So, whaddya think?" Came a voice besides him.

John jumped as Notch materialized right next to him. Like a rabbit pulled out from a magician's hat. "Pretty impressive if I do say so myself." Notch says, beating his chest like a proud ape would.

John turned to face Notch, his face that of skepticism with a lingering emotion of shock and disbelief. "Um…Notch…this is very beautiful I'll give you that…but Minecraft's a block game…and this," John says gesturing to the beautiful landscape, "well I can tell you without a doubt, that unless I'm somehow blind or my eyes are deceiving me…those aren't made of blocks."

"BAHAHAHA!" Notch bursts out laughing, practically doubling over clutching his chest. "Give me a moment John…to catch…my breath…whoo! Yeah obviously I wouldn't make a world out of cubes. Gotta spice it up you know? Add a little bit of realism."

And somehow, John could tell that wouldn't be the case for long.

Rolling his eyes, John remarks, "yeeeaaahhh right…realistic you say."

Notch smirked, trying to keep a straight face. "Ok ok, alright you got me. It isn't not REAL realistic…just realistic TO Minecraft."

Before John could say anything, something caught his eye—or rather, the abnormality of something. A dreaded realization dawned on him…if the world is like Minecraft…oh no.

John craned his neck up to find the sun racing across the sky.

"Because this world is like Minecraft…" Notch began.

"That means the days are…" John couldn't even finish his sentence as the color drained from his face.

"20. Minutes. Long." Notch whispered dramatically into his ear.

"Gah!" John recoiled away like he'd touch something icky. "Personal space man! I like women! Not…gods or whatever you are. Though I don't mind goddesses…"

Holding up his hands in surrender, Notch simply grinned at him. "Woah woah! Relax buckeroo! There was zero sexual intent behind that."

"Yeah, well it didn't feel like that! I felt harassed!" John snapped, now clearly annoyed. He storms off into the forest "Screw it…I-I'll go punch a tree or something."

"Good luck John!" Notch called out, happily waving his hand as he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

John abruptly froze mid-step.

"Ah drats…I forgot to ask him why he chose me out of all people to get isekaied."

John muttered a string of not so family friendly words as he made his way towards the nearest tree. He gave the trunk a solid one-two knuckle sandwich.

Thunk!

To his surprise, all he felt was a firm impact as a chunk of the tree disappeared, leaving a smaller version of it floating as a log in front of him. Just like in Minecraft.

"Ok, now THAT'S like Minecraft."

And here spend the next problem: how does he store the log?

"Do I just shove it up my—oh? What's this?" John's eyes widened as he lifted up his left arm to find a strange, blue crystal embedded into the underside of his forearm (it's an Ark style implant if you're curious).

The moment John had thought of the intention to open up his inventory, a holographic UI suddenly appeared in front of him, showing the typical minecraft inventory interface. Hunger, heath, the inventory slots, the whole shabang.

"Dude…that's awesome sauce!"

Reaching out, John was surprised to see the chunk of wood fly straight towards his hand. Gripping the wood, John could feel the texture, it has this gritty, woody feel to it…cause it's wood, duh.

At first it was a little confusing for John. Like how would YOU use the inventory? Yes you the reader. Well, it's simple really. Just put the item into your inventory like you would a bag! (Actually, in hindsight, it isn't really that clear is it…)

The beginning was easy enough. John knows how to play Minecraft and he definitely has played survival before, so it's just routine to him. Only difference being that it's in reality and not a game.

Within minutes, John now has a crafting table, wooden pickaxe, and a couple blocks of wood to his name. Not something you'd expect to be in ones bank account but what can you do.

The sun was beginning to set and the sky's turning a deep shade of blue. Man if a 10 minute day wasn't brutal for the human body, then I don't know what is. John thought to himself.

Readying himself for the night, John grips the pick axe tightly.

"Brrruuuuuhhhhh…" A low guttural groan comes from behind John.

He turns around and immediately regrets it as he comes face to face with an actual zombie. Rotten skin, exposed bones, and everything.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD!" Jack exclaims, swinging his pickaxe in a panic. Bad idea. Crack! Snap! The pickaxe immediately breaks upon lodging itself into the zombie's skull.

Damn, I should've checked the durability beforehand. John told himself as the zombie collapsed down to the ground, spawning. The head of his wooden pickaxe still jammed deep in its skull.

John sighed. "It's gonna be a long night isn't it…"

He didn't even get a second to rest.

SSSSSSSSSS—

John's face lost all of its color as he heard the dreaded sound of a…

Creeper.

"Aw man-"

KABOOM!

The explosion sent John flying back as he slams into a tree, knocking the air out of his lungs. He ragdolls to the ground and spits out blood. Dazed but alive, he looks up to find the zombie—with the pickaxe through its skull—that he thought was dead is now slowly standing back up again. It's. Not. Dead. To make matters even worse, he hears the rattling of bones as a flaming arrow zips past his head and embeds itself into the tree behind him.

"What?! They have the flame enchantment?!"

John bolted away as fast as he could. Flaming zipping past his head, inches away from nicking him. Groans echoed around him and he could hear the sounds of spiders and skeletons closing the distance.

Congratulations! Now we've caught up to the start of chapter one. I hope you're not wondering anymore how John 'got in this situation' because we're not taking a pit stop to catch your breath.

John sprinted to the forest like an old grandma riding a car, that is to say he wasn't fast. Like…at all.

Fortunately—or maybe not—all the cuts and bruises covering his body weren't from any mobs but rather were from his clumsiness. Accidentally ramming into trees, choosing to run straight into a thorn bush rather than a perfectly clear path, and even managed to clock his head against a branch. How typical.

John's mind is in total chaos, rushing to find some solution to this situation. But then—ding! A light bulb goes off in John's head—illuminated absolutely nothing on that mind of his. Wait a minute! John! You stupid little thing! I'm in Minecraft!

It's extremely basic, crude even, but it never fails. Just break the number one rule in Minecraft, never dig straight down. Dig three blocks down then place a block above your head. Boom! You've got a certified makeshift panic hole where you're fully protected from most forms of damage—unless you're near an explosion and some other stuff. It's just that simple!

So now we're here.

John, curled up in a fetal position, hiding in his 'hidey hole'. His thoughts racing, counting down the seconds until the sun rises. Like a child would on Christmas Eve, except that instead of gifts, it was not getting killed.

"Man…if only I had the F3 menu." John muttered to himself. Wait…

John held up left arm and stared at the glowing blue gem. Give me the F3 menu…please.

Then he waited…

…

…

Nothing

"Maybe it's a different keyword. Let's try debug menu."

…nothing

"Debug screen??"

…nothing

"Info screen! Debug Info! Coordinates!"

Nothing. The crystal was as responsive as an old magic 8 ball.

"Ah…forget it…it should be day by now."

Nope. Not even close. When John removed the dirt above him—and found himself face to face with the same zombie he attacked with a pickaxe, the head of which is still lodged in his head.

The zombie groaned. Not in pain or like a typical zombie. No. John might be going insane but the zombie defines let out a long, raspy, "Heeellllllooo…" like as if the corpse was mocking John.

Oh and the moon is still high above in the sky.

John immediately said to place the dirt back in its place. "Nope. Absolutely not. God is my inner clock messed up."

(Quick side note, this is like the Siffre (1962) cave study. Go look it up, it's pretty interesting. Michel Siffre went underground for months with no sunlight and his sense of time was out of whack. Not relevant but hey, pretty cool am I right? But in all seriousness, it was to observe the physical and psychological effects of not having 'zeitgebers')

After a couple minutes…probably a couple and more…John finally decides to check outside.

Peeking his head out, John breathes a sigh of relief as he feels the sunlight against his skin. Freedom. He smiles as the zombie that's been camping his hole the entire night spontaneously combusts into flames. Watching it flail and turn to ash was…satisfying.

"…yeah…that's what I thought." John gloated as he crossed his arms over his chest in a failed attempt to look cool.

What am I even doing? I've definitely lost my mind haven't I.

After a few seconds of contemplating his life's decisions—which were many and questionable—John continued his trek…to somewhere. He doesn't know where…but somewhere.

After five minutes of wandering around, the sun had already climbed to its apex, casting its warm rays across the overworld. It was officially noon—and John was utterly lost. He hadn't anticipated it'd be this hard to make its way out of the forest, it's always looked so easy in the games…but who is he kidding. Even though this realm is based off of that blocky game he loved so much, this was still real life….to a certain extent. The trees and blocks still float mid air so take that 'realism' with a heavy grain of salt.

Before he realized it, it was becoming night again…but this time, he's ready. Armed with a stone sword, a whole apple, and some blocks of wood, John is ready to face anything that comes in his way. "For I am Johnathan Johnson!" He declared.

Two. Minutes. Later.

"WHY THE HELL ARE THERE SO MANY SKELETON JOCKEYS?!"

John must be the UNLUCKIEST person in the entire universe. What's the chances of encountering a horde of skeleton jockeys…who are all wielding enchanted bows.

"Is this what you call hardcore Notch!" John screamed into the heavens. "Over my dead body! There is no way this is hardcore! This is goddamn torture!" John cursed into the sky as he duck and weaved through the volleys of arrows. John couldn't really do anything. He's absolutely helpless. There's not enough time to dig a hole, he doesn't have enough blocks to bunker down, and it isn't like he's some world class swordsman or an overpowered MC (little does he know, John secretly has the most broken ability in fiction…plot armor!).

Come on…just two minutes! John thought to himself as he looked up at the moon. But in doing so, he unfortunately doesn't see the log in front of him.

Slip…thunk!

"Ah…man…" John groaned as he struggled to pick himself up, resorting to a crawl instead.

Then—hot, searing pain.

John's eyes widen as he looks down in horror to find a flaming arrow pierced straight through his leg.

"AHHHHHH!"

Ok…pain wasn't as bad as he thought—thanks to the health point system of the world, but saying it didn't hurt is an understatement. Pain is pain after all, and John wasn't all that 'good and dandy'.

All around him, John could hear the rattling of skeleton bones, the skittering of spiders, and the growing of zombies slowly close in. Rapidly.

Please please please let it be day! I don't want to die on the second night! I have so little to line for!

John was never religious. Not at all. But in this moment of desperation, John put his hands together as he recited whatever prayer he remembered from his childhood diners, TV shows, movies, and anywhere else a prayer may appear from.

But then—

Swish! Slash! Crack! Slam!

(Cue the Deus Ex Machina)

John opens his eyes to see an unbelievable sight. A heavily cloaked figure wielding an iron sword carves through the skeleton jockeys like a hot knife through butter. The figure made killing these monsters—which keep in mind nearly killed John—look so easy and so graceful. Their movements are swift, fluid, and efficient. Every strike was made to kill.

And like beautiful clockwork, BOOM! The first rays of sunlight were casted across the overpowered as all the skeletons instantly combust, creating that cool looking cinematic effect where an explosion happens behind a character.

The figure was cool, like a proper main character.

As the last skeletons collapse into ash, the figure slowly walks over to kneel in front of John.

They extended out a hand. In their palm was a piece of steak.

"You know, I never really took you for a religious person. I guess people change with time." The figures said in an oddly familiar tone.

John stared confusingly at the figure whose face was shrouded in darkness by the hood. Leg still throbbing with pain and his vision blurry, John choked out a question. "W-Who are you?" He tried to sound firm but the stuttering isn't helping his case.

"Aw come on! It's not like we haven't seen each other in 5 years or something." The figure laughed as he flipped open his hood.

Like a spotlight on an actor, the bright morning sunlight illuminates the figure's face. His brown hair, tied up in a bun behind him. His deep blue eyes that shine with a young mischief to them. Finally, his scraggy beard which was clearly a work-in-progress.

But one thing is for sure…

"Long time no see…John." He said with a grin

That man…that face…that voice

John's jaw dropped to the ground. "Oh my god…i-it can't be!"

It was…

John's best friend.

"Steven?!"