GATE: Thus the Players Crafted There

[Martin Noctis]

POV: *Steve*

In real life, I sat comfortably at my desk, headphones snug over my ears, fingers lightly tapping on the keyboard. It was just another evening on the server with friends, roleplaying like we always did. We'd been doing this for months now—acting as if we were the default skins from Minecraft. It was fun. I was Steve, the iconic blue-shirted blockhead. My sister, playing on the same server, was off in the Badlands, doing her usual thing—hunting griefers. But here, in the heart of Endertown, things were peaceful.

I adjusted my mouse, guiding Steve across my small farm. Carrots and wheat swayed gently in the blocky wind as I harvested the crops. A couple of other players walked by, their names hovering above them like little beacons. One of them stopped and waved. I pressed the key to wave back. Simple things like that made the server feel alive. It wasn't just about gathering resources or building. We'd built a little community here.

With my inventory full, I headed toward the center of town, where villagers and players were mingling, and trading. The market square was bustling—perfectly normal for a Friday night. An Iron Golem lumbered past, stooping down to hand a flower to a baby villager. I smiled at the screen. The small, scripted moments like that always gave the place a comforting vibe.

Then I heard her voice through proximity chat.

"Hey, Steve!" It was Alex, or rather, my friend who played as her. She was approaching with Noor, Ari, Zuri, and the others, all of us sticking to the classic skins. They started up the usual banter as soon as they got close.

"Hey!" Steve called back, turning his character to face them.

"So, when are we heading to the End?" Alex asked as her character stood next to him. "We've been putting it off for too long. That dragon needs to go down."

Noor nodded her head. "I say we do it this weekend. Raid the End, get our Elytras, and be done with it."

"Yeah, we need that XP farm, like, yesterday," Makena added with a laugh.

Zuri groaned. "XP farm? I just want my Elytra so I can fly again. I'm tired of walking everywhere."

They all laughed, their characters jostling each other in a casual, pixelated way. The server's roleplay rules might be strict, but that didn't stop them from having fun. The conversation soon turned to logistics—who had Ender Pearls, who had the Eyes of Ender, what potions were needed, and when they could all meet up.

Steve was about to chime in when Ari glanced at him. "What about you, Steve? You good for Saturday?"

He hesitated for a second. "I, uh, can't make it Saturday. I've got my cousin's wedding."

"Wait, you're going to that too?" Ari asked. "Dude, I'll be there."

"That's great, but now we need to pick another day," Noor sighed. "How about Sunday? Can everyone do Sunday?"

Before Steve could respond, Ari's voice cut through, slightly more curious now. "Hey… What's that?"

Her character turned, staring off toward the northern edge of town. A faint shimmer caught their attention. Steve moved his character to stand beside her and noticed it too—just beyond the village's stone walls.

"What the heck?" Noor muttered. "Is that… a mod?"

"No way," Zuri shot back. "We're not using any texture mods. You know that's against the rules."

They all stared as the shimmer slowly grew, taking form, until it was no longer just a strange light but something physical—something massive. It was a gate. A towering structure of stone, covered in strange symbols. Steve's heart skipped a beat as he watched it materialize, impossibly real for something in this world of blocks.

The villagers had stopped moving, frozen in place as if time itself had paused for them. The mobs that usually lurked just outside the village's safe zones—the pigs, cows, and creepers—also stood still, as though sensing something they couldn't comprehend.

"What the hell is that?" Zuri said, her voice now tinged with genuine confusion.

Then, it happened. The gate began to open.

From its dark depths emerged a legion—rows of soldiers in gleaming armor, banners waving above them in the breeze. What struck Steve more than anything was how real they looked. They weren't blocky, like everything else in Minecraft. These soldiers looked detailed—almost like something out of a high-budget RPG.

"Are those... NPCs?" Kai asked, his voice cracking slightly.

The villagers began to panic, running to the nearest huts, other players still in character as teachers and farmers frantically tried to shepherd them to safety. One player, a hardcore roleplayer for the first time broke character and took out a sword even though his character was a pacifist.

"This is bad," Alex said quietly, pulling out her sword.

Steve's hand hovered over his mouse. Something wasn't right. This didn't feel like an event or update. It felt… real. Too real.

As if on cue, a loud horn bellowed from the approaching legion, the sound ripping through the village. The players around Steve tensed, weapons drawn, their proximity chat exploding with chatter. His headset buzzed with overlapping voices.

"No way, this is insane."

"Are we getting hacked?"

"They don't look like anything from the game—"

Suddenly, Efe's voice cut through all the chaos, his usual calm demeanor broken by a sharp, censored curse. "What the f***?!"

Makena was already handing out swords to anyone unarmed. "Get ready!"

The first wave of the soldiers charged, and everything descended into chaos.

---

Ten minutes had passed since the gate first appeared, and everything was chaos. Screams echoed in proximity chat as players scrambled to fight off the soldiers pouring through. I dodged an incoming strike, barely managing to raise my shield in time. My headset buzzed with frantic voices, overlapping in a blur of panic and confusion.

"When I get my hands on the guy who installed this mod, I will—IS THAT A F***ING DRAGON?! OH, I WILL RIP HIS SPINE OUT AXX FIRST!!!" someone screamed. It sounded like one of the moderators, but in the middle of all this madness, I couldn't be sure. He was hacking through two enemies—soldiers that looked too real, too detailed to be normal NPCs. At this point, I wasn't even sure what to call them anymore. Enemies, I guess.

I focused on the two foes in front of me. One of them resembled a hyper-realistic piglin—like something straight out of that god-awful movie trailer that we all agreed not to speak of again but somehow worse and this one wasn't blocky. It snarled as it charged, swinging a sword that shimmered unnervingly in the sunlight. I gritted my teeth, blocking its attack with a sword I'd picked up from a fallen player. Hopefully they wouldn't want it back or just craft a new one.

The other soldier, more human in appearance, lunged at me next. I swung back, and my sword connected. He let out a strangled cry. Blood—actual, real blood—splattered from the wound. My sword was slick with it, dark and viscous, not the usual pixelated red from horror maps or gore mods. My stomach twisted. This wasn't part of the game. No mod should be this realistic.

The human soldier stumbled back and collapsed. Dead. No items dropped, no loot appeared. Just a corpse lying there, motionless. I felt a knot tighten in my chest, but I couldn't afford to stop. Another explosion boomed nearby, shaking the ground.

I glanced to my left and saw Noor rigging up a makeshift TNT cannon. The pixelated explosion sent chunks of debris flying, taking out a whole squad of enemies. It wasn't much, but it bought us some breathing room.

"Good job, Noor!" I shouted over voice chat, grateful for the cover. "That should buy us time to regroup!"

Noor didn't respond—too busy setting up another TNT charge. Her character sprinted back and forth, placing blocks with the kind of frantic efficiency that only Redstone players had. Right next to her, Makena was trying to build an improvised wall with the limited resources she had left in her inventory.

"Keep them back!" Makena yelled, her voice crackling through the mic. She sounded winded, like she'd been glued to the screen for hours. Which she has but it was only two. "We need to fortify the market square before they break through!"

On the southern side of the village, Alex was in full combat mode, fighting off soldiers that had swarmed that end. Her sword gleamed with Sharpness V, and her movements were quick, decisive. Every swing found its mark. She fought with a precision that made me grateful she was on our side.

"Efe, cover me!" she shouted, parrying a blow and spinning around to take down another armored soldier.

Efe, armed with a bow, fired off arrows with amazing accuracy. His proximity chat voice was calm, as if this was just another PvP session. "On it. Just keep your shield up, Alex."

Near the village walls, Zuri had climbed one of the nearby towers and was picking off the incoming enemies with her crossbow. From her high vantage point, each bolt found its target square in the chest of a charging enemy.

"Headshot!" Zuri's voice rang out over the chat, a brief flash of excitement cutting through the chaos. But her tone quickly changed. "There's too many of them! They're coming from all sides!"

"Hold the line!" Kai yelled back from below. He was weaving in and out of the enemy ranks, striking quickly before vanishing into the shadows. His stealth tactics kept some of the soldiers disoriented, but it wouldn't last. "We just need to buy time until we can evacuate!"

Then, from the center of town, the red fireworks shot up into the sky. They arced high, trailing sparks before exploding in a brilliant display. The sharp ring of bells followed, echoing over the battlefield.

"Evacuation," I muttered to myself, recognizing the signal immediately. The leaders of Endertown—players who'd taken on the roles of town officials and mayor—were signaling everyone to fall back. They were warning the local players that the attack was in full swing. "Fxck."

"Fall back to the Dome!" Alex yelled, still swinging her sword. "Everyone, move! Now!"

My heart pounded as I sprinted toward the evacuation point, trying to stay close to the others. Behind me, the sounds of battle raged on—clashing weapons, explosions, and the occasional desperate shout. This felt more like Mount and Blade than Minecraft right now.

I dodged arrows and ducked past enemy soldiers as I ran. Noor's TNT cannons were still firing, keeping the advancing troops at bay, but it wouldn't hold for long. Makena was already halfway to the town's City Hall/Gladiator Arena, ushering villagers and players alike into safety.

Once the last player entered, the city guards began blocking off the entrance with obsidian. For a brief moment, we all stood there, catching our breath which we lost due to the stress. The sounds of battle were muffled behind the thick walls, but we knew it wouldn't last. Those who didn't make it into the dome are probably running away now to warn other towns and players.

"WHAT THE FXCK WAS THAT?!" someone finally shouted, breaking the silence. Similar outbursts followed, everyone's voice a mix of shock and anger.

"QUIET!" The mayor's voice boomed through the crowd. They wore the skin of a villager, and their commanding tone silenced the chatter. "We can figure it out later. Right now, we need to retake the town from these axxhats! They only made us retreat because they caught us off guard. We will repay them for that. Now, how long until the sun goes down?"

His assistant, who wore the skin of a scribe, quickly replied. "Ten hours."

"I meant in-game!" the mayor snapped.

"OH! Five minutes," the assistant replied sheepishly.

The mayor straightened up, their voice firm as they laid out the plan. "Alright, here's what we'll do. The moment night falls, mobs will start to spawn. I doubt these guys know what that means. While they're busy fighting off the mobs, we'll launch a counterattack!"

"What about their dragons?" I asked, stepping forward. The memory of those huge winged beasts still burned in my mind.

"Good question, Steve!" The mayor was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Archers! Your priority is taking out the riders of those dragons. Without riders, the dragons will either turn feral or attack everything in sight. Either way, it's better than nothing!"

The crowd murmured in agreement. I glanced at my friends, and they all nodded, determined expressions on their pixelated faces. Nightfall was coming soon, and with it, the tide of battle would shift.

For better or worse.

---

POV: Legatus
The raid on the Barbarian City was going better than expected. My men—battle-hardened, disciplined—poured through the Gods Given Gate, clashing against the locals with little resistance. These blockmen, with their crude weapons and odd structures, were no match for the might of the Imperial Legions. The town, or what passed for one, was built in strange, geometric shapes. Its people—both the farmers and the so-called warriors—fled in terror or locked themselves away in their curious stone fortresses.

We'd had some trouble, of course. The iron giants, the ones that walked like men but bore the strength of beasts, were formidable. They crushed several of my men before we brought them down. But no matter. They were few, and we had numbers. Already, the slaves had been shackled and were being marched through the gate. They would fetch a good price in the markets back home.

I dismounted, the clang of armor breaking the stillness of the camp as we prepared for the night. The fires were being lit, tents erected, the spoils of our victory piled high. It was a good raid. The Barbarian City had fallen easily, and though some of the warriors had retreated to their central dome, they were cornered. Their blocky walls wouldn't hold for long.

I scanned the strange sky, devoid of stars but awash in unnatural light. The colors of this world were vivid, unnatural, but not without beauty. Yet something about this place unnerved me—the way the ground moved under our feet, the odd sensation of time flowing differently. It felt… wrong. Even the air tasted strange.

A hiss behind me drew my attention. I turned, hand on my sword, expecting one of the city's warriors or some stray pesant, but what appeared in front of me was beyond anything I could comprehend.

A creature. Tall—towering, really. Thin and black as night, with limbs too long for a man. Its skin shimmered unnaturally, and its eyes… gods, those eyes! Bright purple, glowing like the fires of hell. It just stood there, motionless, staring at me with those eyes.

A demon.

I started to unsheet my sword, heart pounding, but before I could strike, the thing let out a sound—a horrible, ear-piercing scream that echoed in my very bones. Then it was gone, vanished into the air, leaving me cold and rattled.

"What in the name of the gods was that?" I muttered, gripping my sword tighter. The men near me stirred, glancing around nervously.

"Did anyone else see it?" I barked, trying to regain control. No one answered.

I barely had time to process what had just happened when another sound reached me—screaming, this time from the edges of the camp. I spun on my heel, drawing my sword fully as chaos erupted around us. It wasn't the barbarians, nor was it the iron beasts. No, this was something else entirely.

They were coming from all sides—creatures, monsters that defied explanation.

One of them—a large green thing, its body shifting and pulsing with energy—lunged at one of my men. He stabbed at it, but before his blade could connect, the creature exploded, sending him and two others flying into the air, their armor shattered.

"What madness is this?!" I yelled, backing up toward the center of the camp.

More of the creatures appeared from the dark. They weren't human—no, these things were ghouls. Unnaturally green and blocky as everything else in this mad world. They moved slowly but relentlessly, like the undead warriors in old Imperial myths. I saw one of our own mages summon his ghouls to fight them off, but as they clashed, the blocky creatures ripped his magic-woven abominations apart like they were made of straw. Our mage barely had time to scream before the ghouls tore him to pieces, blood spraying the grass.

"Archers! To the front!" I ordered, rallying what remained of my men. "Hold the lines! These are no mere ghouls!"

And then the archers screamed. I looked up just in time to see massive spiders—larger than any I had seen in the wild forests of Falmart—crawling along the rooftops, their eight eyes gleaming in the moonlight. They pounced on men, sinking their fangs deep into armor, into flesh, tearing through the lines of my soldiers.

We were being overwhelmed.

But then, just as the chaos threatened to consume us, the screech of a Drake cut through the air. My heart surged with hope as our Drake Riders swooped down from the sky, breathing fire onto the hordes of beasts below. The ghouls and the exploding creatures were no match for the fury of dragon fire. Soldiers cheered as the Drakes tore into the monsters, their massive talons raking through the ground.

Victory, it seemed, was near. We would drive these demons back into the earth where they belonged. And then, as I surveyed the battlefield, I saw him—the leader of the blockmen.

The Barbarian Legate.

His strange, square body was at the forefront of the attack, moving with a speed and precision that defied his awkward appearance. His sword gleamed in the moonlight, cutting down soldier after soldier, and behind him, more of the blockmen poured from the dome. Some fired crossbows, their bolts striking down the Drake Riders. One by one, the Drakes fell from the sky, their riders helpless against the coordinated onslaught.

"Protect the Drakes!" I shouted, but my voice was lost in the chaos. More of my men fell, overrun by the monsters and the damned blockmen. I pushed forward, cutting through the ghouls and demons, desperate to reach the Barbarian Legate. If I could just kill him—if I could bring down their leader—perhaps we could still turn the tide.

But before I could reach him, I heard a sound. A familiar sound that froze me in my tracks.

The scream.

I barely had time to turn before the black demon appeared again, its purple eyes burning into my soul. I swung my sword, aiming for its neck, but it was too fast. The thing vanished and then reappeared right behind me.

I stumbled, raising my sword again, but the demon didn't attack. It reached out with one long, black arm and grabbed me.

And then—everything shifted.

The world around me blurred into nothingness, the battlefield, my men, the blockmen, all disappearing in an instant. My breath caught in my throat as I felt my body lurch through space, and then, suddenly, I was somewhere else.

Somewhere dark. Somewhere ancient.

Before me, a massive dragon loomed, its eyes glowing with the same malevolent purple as the demon's. Its wings stretched out across the sky, casting me in shadow.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came.

The last thing I saw was the demon's eyes, burning brighter than ever, and then—the darkness consumed me.

 

[Martin Noctis]

View: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/584JVZWpSb8DxTVUZCQj0F?si=d4d59cb656144369
made a thing for you guys

 

[Martin Noctis]

https://www.reddit.com/r/gate/s/txj5xJwgA9

 

[Martin Noctis]

ROLECRAFT HIGH MOD CHAT
Karlwashere: WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!
Jionthegreat: ?
MODENNIS: WTH are you talking about, Karl?
Karlwashere: THIS!
LillytheGirlMod: whut is that?
Jionthegreat: DID SOMEONE DOWNLOAD A MOD!?!!1!?L!?!?!"??@l!"L???
Jionthegreat: WHO DID IT?!
Karlwashere: That's just it. The code is the same. No mods were added. No updates. No patches. Nada.
MODENNIS: Hold on... checking.
MODENNIS: I am looking at it rn. Carl is right. The code is normal. Should we contact Mojang?
LillytheGirlMod: and tell Mojang what? That some hacker downloaded a weird ass mod onto the server and we can't fucking find it in the code?? nah. Let's dig deeper into this before sending panic emails.
PraiseNotch: Bro, are we hacked?
Karlwashere: I don't fucking know. But this isn't just some glitch. These soldiers came through a legit gate, and it looked like... idk... Skyrim or Fallout NPCs? But they were... too real. They bled, Notch. BLEEDING in Minecraft.
Jionthegreat: DUDE?! Real blood in Minecraft? Wtf even is this? Are we being pranked?
LillytheGirlMod: That's not even possible, right? No one's rigged Minecraft for hyper-realistic gore mods, not like that.
MODENNIS: Even if someone did, it would show up in the logs. There's nothing. The server's clean.
SlovakianMinecrafter: My internet nearly died. Yet I could move during the attack. Like, where is this lag? How are people still playing?
Karlwashere: I thought my PC was gonna explode. This doesn't even make sense. We should all be lagging to hell with this kind of crap rendering in real-time. But somehow, it's stable for most players.
MODENNIS: Some kind of hardware bypass? But how could it run without crashing everyone's setups?
Karlwashere: Not even joking, it felt like a fucking movie. I mean, real fucking humans charging into Minecraft. They moved fast, bled out when we hit them. This isn't some pre-rendered shit.
BobtheCrafter: Yeah, and they're not just in Endertown anymore. I have some bad news.
MODENNIS: What now?
BobtheCrafter: The Roman-like soldiers? Yeah, they're sending out more armies. I just got confirmation—some of them are heading toward Craftia and the other settlements.
Jionthegreat: This can't be real. There's no way a random mod like this would auto-spawn armies and direct them toward other players.
BobtheCrafter: Oh, it gets worse. There's another army, but I lost track of them. Gimme a sec, I'll see if I can find them again.
LillytheGirlMod: ok but hold up. how is this even happening? Like, what exactly did we see come out of that gate?
MODENNIS: I'm checking the logs right now. There's no record of anything that looks like this. It's like the game's running something... but it's invisible in the code.
Karlwashere: That's impossible. You can't run something like this without some kind of signature, right?
MODENNIS: Yeah. but there is nothing. Nada. This gate shouldn't fucking exist.
PraiseNotch: Yeah, and players aren't permadeath-ing either, right? They're respawning like normal. No life counters ticking down or anything, thank god.
LillytheGirlMod: imagine if we had permadeath ON rn. jeez. we'd lose half the server.
Karlwashere: Honestly thankful we don't have any big YouTubers in the area. Can you imagine the shitstorm if this leaked? They'd be live-streaming the whole thing, turning it into some conspiracy theory drama.
BobtheCrafter: Yeah, but how long until someone catches wind of this? Players are freaking out in proximity chat. We're gonna have to deal with some kind of fallout.
MODENNIS: Focus on containment for now. I don't want this spiraling out of control. We gotta figure out what the hell is going on before someone else does.
Sexyman555: Okay, hold up. I think I found something in the code.
LillytheGirlMod: FINALLY, some answers. What is it?
Sexyman555: There's... something weird. A chunk of code that shouldn't be here. It's not like anything I've seen before.
Karlwashere: Is it connected to the gate?
Sexyman555: Yeah. But it's not just the gate. There's more to it. It's like the game's being patched from an external source... but the source is blank. Like, it doesn't exist.
MODENNIS: Are you saying we're dealing with a ghost mod?
Sexyman555: It's like that. I'm gonna try and trace it. Might take me a bit though. If this is coming from outside, we might have bigger problems. I need to check something real quick.
MODENNIS: Wait, you're logging off? Now?
Sexyman555: Don't worry. I'll be back. I just need to see something. BRB.
LillytheGirlMod: don't leave us hangin dude wtf
Sexyman555 flew off...
Jionthegreat: Bro, that guy loves his mysteries too much. I bet he's already neck-deep in code.
PraiseNotch: Seriously though, if there's no record of this, and the source is blank... how the fuck is it happening?
MODENNIS: We're in some kind of deep glitch, or someone's hacked our server. I still don't know how it's possible for this to run without blowing up half the PCs connected.
BobtheCrafter: Found the army.
LillytheGirlMod: fuck, that was fast
Karlwashere: Where are they?
BobtheCrafter: Looks like they're near the west forest, just outside the border. Wither City is next in their path. They're still marching.
MODENNIS: Do they look the same?
BobtheCrafter: Yep. Same as the Endertown group. Full-on Roman cosplay, but with more horses and siege equipment. They're too detailed, and I mean way too detailed. You can see the reflections in their armor. Minecraft doesn't do reflections like that.
SlovakianMinecrafter: That's so fucked up. I'm getting FPS drops just hearing about it.
MODENNIS: Bob, be careful if you're gonna engage. We don't know how many glitches this thing might trigger.
Karlwashere: Bob, seriously, don't do anything dumb.
BobtheCrafter: Relax, I'm just gonna scout. I've got full diamond gear. I'll be fine.
LillytheGirlMod: I've seen you die in iron to a stray skeleton. chill.
BobtheCrafter: That was one time, Lilly. One time.

---

BobtheCrafter POV

I sprinted through the forest, trees whipping past me, the familiar landscape of Minecraft blurring together. My diamond armor clinked with every step, and I kept my sword at the ready. I could feel the tension building in my chest as I neared the edge of the West Forest. I hadn't seen the army yet, but I knew they were out there the blood of one falling of a block proved that.

These things that shouldn't exist. I thought to myself.

"Alright, just a bunch of NPCs, nothing to worry about," I muttered to myself, trying to stay calm. "Just scout, report back, and don't do anything dumb."

The trees began to thin out, and soon, the forest gave way to a large clearing. I stopped dead in my tracks. There they were.

Rows upon rows of soldiers, just like the ones Karl described—gleaming, too-realistic armor, banners flapping in the wind. Some were on horseback, others marching with shields and spears. The world around them seemed too simple, too blocky, for their presence. It was like someone had pasted a scene from a completely different game into this world.

"Jesus…" I whispered, feeling a headache coming on.

At first, they didn't notice me. They were too busy preparing—organizing into formations, positioning siege equipment that was way too detailed to be used in most games outside a cutscene or only in next gen games. I crouched behind a hill, peeking over the top. If this was some kind of weird mod, it was the most insane thing I'd ever seen. My brain kept flashing back to one thought: This should not exist.

I tried typing in the mod chat.

---

BobtheCrafter: holy shit. there's way more than I thought.
MODENNIS: Stay back. Don't engage unless necessary.
LillytheGirlMod: be careful idiot!
BobtheCrafter: yeah, yeah, I got it. gonna get closer.

---

I closed the chat and took a deep breath. Slowly, I edged around the side of the hill, trying to get a better view. There was a path leading straight to the main road, right where Wither City was.

No way I could let them get that far.

Alright. Time to do something stupid.

I ran straight toward the back of their formation. The moment I cleared the hill, one of the soldiers spotted me. I could see his head snap in my direction—his eyes locking onto me. But it wasn't the blank, pixelated stare of a normal NPC. It was... focused. Too focused. Like a real person. That unnerved me for a split second, but I shook it off.

"Come on, they are just NPCs," I muttered.

I drew my sword and charged at the closest group. Their reaction was immediate—a horn sounded, and suddenly, the entire army was in motion. Shields were raised, and the first line of soldiers moved to meet me.

I swung my sword, and it hit the first soldier square in the chest. The hit should've sent him flying, but instead, he staggered back, bleeding. Real blood spurted from the wound—too red, too viscous. He let out a pained scream that sent a chill down my spine.

Not supposed to happen.

They weren't dropping items like they should. No loot, no gear. Just... bodies. Real, lifeless bodies.

A spear clanged off my armor, nearly knocking me off balance. Another soldier lunged at me, and I swung my sword in a wide arc, taking out two of them. But more were coming. Fast.

"Fxck! There's too many of them!" I cursed under my breath, spinning around as the soldiers began to surround me.

I wasn't going to last much longer. They were closing in, and my health was starting to dip. The edges of my screen pulsed red which wasn't supposed to happen.

"Fxck this," I muttered, slamming my fingers on the keyboard.

I quickly typed in the command: /gamemode creative.

The soldiers paused for a split second, like they could sense something had changed. I shot into the air, flying above them, and in a few quick moves, I started building.

Obsidian walls appeared around them in seconds. High and thick. The soldiers ran toward the edges, banging their shields against the obsidian, but there was no way they were getting through. I boxed them in completely, trapping them inside a massive, unbreakable prison.

I hovered over them, sealing them in with an Obsidian roof. "Yeah, try and break out of that," I muttered.

For a moment, everything was still. They were trapped, and I could breathe again.

Now, time to figure out what the hell these NPCs are.

I floated down into the enclosure, standing face-to-face with one of the soldiers. He glared at me, his eyes wide with a mix of anger and fear. His armor was dented where I'd hit him, blood staining the metal. He clutched his side, wincing.

"Alright, let's see what makes you tick," I said to no one in particular
.
I reached for the code inspector tool. I clicked on the soldier in front of me, expecting to see some kind of script or ID file that would explain what kind of mod this was.
But instead, the moment I clicked, the soldier let out a scream.

It wasn't the usual sound bite from Minecraft or from any other game. It was... real. Human. Agonizing.

He dropped to his knees, clutching his head, his body convulsing like he was having a seizure. My stomach twisted. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

The screen flickered. His body started to glitch—his form warping and distorting, like his pixels were being torn apart. His arms stretched unnaturally, his face flickering between different expressions. The sound—God, the sound—was like static mixed with screams.

"Stop… stop, fxck, stop!" I shouted, clicking out of the code inspector. But the damage was done.

Suddenly, the glitching stopped. The soldier collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, his face pale. And then... he cried.

Tears streamed down his face. Real, human tears. His sobs were quiet at first, but they grew louder as he curled into himself, shaking.

The other NPCs—no, not NPCs, humans—were staring at me now. Wide-eyed, terrified. One of them, a man wearing what looked like mage robes, stepped forward and said something in that same foreign language. But this time, I caught a word. Deus.

My blood ran cold.

I didn't know Latin, but I knew Deus. It was from one of those RPGs I'd played a while back. It meant… god.

"What?" I muttered, my voice shaking. "I'm not a... I'm not a god. You're just NPCs. You're just... code."

The mage said it again, more forcefully this time but not to me but the other soldiers. Deus. The others murmured, fear evident in their voices.

I stumbled back nearly falling off my chair, my hands trembling. My mind raced. Someone must've added AI—some insanely advanced AI—to the game. But even then… AI doesn't feel. It doesn't scream in pain. It doesn't cry.

I had to know more.

I reached for the code inspector again, hesitant this time. I clicked on the soldier I'd just hurt, bracing myself for whatever nightmare I might see.

But when the screen loaded, there was nothing. No ID. No script. No mod file. No metadata. Just one line.

FILE NOT FOUND.

 

[Martin Noctis]

The Citadel was under siege.

It has been two days since that Gate opened near Endertown and already few towns have fallen. The Griefhunters have been sent out to help liberate the occupied cities and destroy the remaining armies.

They missed one and now their own HQ was under siege with only four players left to defend it.

I tightened my grip on my mouse, staring at the screen as I positioned my character near the top of the Citadel's obsidian walls. My name tag hovered just above the parapet in blocky white letters: CodeBreaker1. Below me, the landscape stretched out, blocky hills and forests painted in muted greens and browns. And beyond the horizon—just far enough that we could see them coming—a massive army marched toward us.

Romans, or whatever the hell they were. NPCs that shouldn't exist well not in Minecraft that is. There was too much realism in their movements, too much chaos in the battles for it to be the work of normal for Minecraft's engine to handle.

I glanced down at the chat, but no messages appeared on screen. We were only using proximity chat now, trying to keep things local. Our reinforcements were scattered across the server, pushing back what remained of the armies. Most of them were fighting near the Gate itself, cutting off supply lines and holding back reinforcements. That left only the four of us to defend the Citadel. Four players. Against hundreds of soldiers, pigmen, and drake riders.

No pressure.

I toggled into third-person view, putting on my character's armor—full enchanted diamond for now. Might have to change into Netherite soon, I thought. Just in case.

"Uh, guys," I said into my headset, keeping my eyes on the advancing army. "Looks like we've got incoming. Like... *a lot* of incoming."

Grinder19, the player reinforcing the main gate, sighed audibly in the chat. "Dude, you say that every ten minutes."

"Yeah, but I'm serious this time. Like... they're bringing drakes."

"Drakes?" Another voice popped into the chat—Voidwalker33, currently expanding the redstone traps we had along the east wall. "Again?! We just took out a squad of them last night."

"Looks like they've respawned or they had more," I muttered. I zoomed in my screen using OptiFine, getting a better look at the approaching horde. "Yep, definitely drakes. And, uh… is that an ogre?"

"Fxck, man," Voidwalker groaned. "How the hell are there still armies left? The last I heard, the Gate's pretty much sealed off. Mobs keep attacking their supply camps at night."

Grinder19 chuckled. "Yeah, thank God for those creepers, right?"

I couldn't help but grin. Since the Gate opened the hostile mobs had been helping us as much as hurting us. Creepers, zombies and skeletons attacked anything that moved, and the Romans weren't immune to Minecraft's AI rules. Some of those mobs had wiped out entire Roman squads before we even showed up.

But right now? That was cold comfort.

I tapped the WASD keys, positioning my character better on the wall. From up here, the view of the Citadel's defenses looked solid—walls of obsidian, iron golems patrolling the grounds below, and TNT traps wired up to the outer defenses. Yet, knowing what was out there made me nervous. They'd brought down towns bigger than this one.

Another voice cut in over proximity chat was JohnWick85, our best builder and trap setter. Also one of the players who lost their dogs to these Romans. "Hey, guys, you ready for the fireworks?"

I smirked. "Always."

"Then let's give 'em a show." He replied with a laugh.

The first of the Roman soldiers crested the hill, marching in tight formation, shields raised in their phalanx. Their footsteps were unnervingly synchronized, the sound of metal on stone echoing through the valley as they approached the Citadel. Behind them, I could see the drake riders circling, their mounts' leathery wings flapping with slow, deliberate beats. And trailing behind were the ogres—massive, hulking creatures, their footsteps shaking the ground with every step.

I toggled back to first-person mode and prepared for the onslaught.

"Now or never," I muttered, my finger hovering over the fireworks I'd set in my hotbar.

Voidwalker was the first to act. "Launching fireworks...now!"

A rapid series of colorful explosions lit up the sky, a wild mix of red, green, and blue. The distraction worked. The drakes screeched, their riders struggling to control them as they veered away from the Citadel, giving us a brief moment to regroup.

"Go, go, go!" Grinder19 yelled as we unleashed our second trick. Rows of TNT blocks, cleverly hidden behind dirt and gravel, exploded along the hillside. The sound was deafening, sending blocks of dirt and Roman soldiers flying into the air. A few ogres were caught in the blast visibly injuring them but not enough to kill them. Damn things were tanks.

"That bought us time, but not much," I said, quickly glancing at my inventory. "John, how's the east wall?"

"Traps are set," JohnWick said, his voice calm as always. "Golems are in position too. Should slow 'em down. Maybe."

I gritted my teeth as the Romans began to push forward again. "Alright, get ready. Here they come."

The battle kicked off with the sound of clashing metals, the iron golems meeting the first wave head-on. Their massive fists slammed into the soldiers, sending them flying across the battlefield. But the Romans weren't going down easily. They fought back with the now usual coordination. Shields locked in formation, spears thrusting forward in tight, precise attacks.

I leapt down from the wall, landing with a splash thanks to the water bucket i used to cusion my landing. My enchanted sword was in hand, and I immediately swung it at the nearest Roman. He staggered back and blood spattered onto the ground and my sword, his face contorting in pain before he collapsed.

"Get the ogres!" Voidwalker yelled from somewhere behind me, his voice cracking in panic.

I spun around, seeing two of the massive beasts lumbering toward our iron golems. One of them let out a guttural roar and swung its club down, smashing through an entire line of golems. I gritted my teeth and quickly pulled out the TNT I had left in my inventory.

"Clear the area!" I yelled, planting a block of TNT in the path of the closest ogre.

I backed up, lit the fuse, and sprinted back toward the wall just as the explosion went off. The blast tore through the ogre's skin, sending chunks of it its insides flying everywhere. The creature let out one final roar before collapsing into a pile of blocky debris.

"One down," I muttered, breathing hard. "Let's go for two."

We pressed forward, cutting through the soldiers with a mix of sword swings arrows, fireworks and well-timed potions. It was chaotic, but for the moment, we were holding them off.

Out of nowhere, a group of slender figures, armed with bows and swords, leapt over the Roman front lines and started picking off our defenses. Their arrows were faster, more accurate than anything I'd seen the Romans use before. One of them lunged at me, and I barely had time to react.

Elves.

I wasn't even surprised anymore.

"Elves. Seriously? We've got fxcking elves now?!" John yelles as I swung my sword, but the elf dodged it effortlessly, moving way too fast.

Voidwalker laughed, even as he started to get swarmed "Yeah, why not? Bring on the orcs while we're at it."

I blocked the elf's next strike, barely managing to counter with a swing of my own. The hit connected, and the elf staggered back. I quickly followed up, landing a critical blow that sent him flying into a nearby wall. He hit the ground hard and stopped moving completly.

But I wasn't fast enough to avoid the arrow that struck me in the back a moment later. My health plummeted, and before I could turn around, everything went red.

YOU ARE DEAD.

Respawning...

I blinked as my character reappeared in the Citadel's respawn room, right next to the bed we'd set as our spawn point. The others were already there, scrambling to grab new gear from the chests.

"We need Netherite," Grinder19 said, his voice serious. "These guys aren't screwing around."

I nodded and quickly swapped out my diamond gear for the Netherite armor we'd been saving for emergencies. This definitely qualified as an emergency.

Just as I finished equipping my gear, the ground shook violently. A loud crash echoed through the Citadel.

"The hell was that?" Voidwalker asked, panic creeping into his voice.

JohnWick froze. "The walls… the outer walls are collapsing."

I gripped my mouse tighter as I heard the unmistakable sound of blocks crumbling and enemy footsteps echoing through the halls.

They were inside.

And reinforcements weren't coming anytime soon.

---

Two hours later...
The Citadel shook violently as the sound of collapsing walls echoed through the halls once again. My heart pounded in sync with the crashing blocks. We could hear them—the Romans and their allies, marching closer. Their footfalls and shouts reverberated through the stone corridors, growing louder with each passing second.

"They're breaking through!" Voidwalker's voice crackled in my headset, panic creeping in.

I gritted my teeth, slamming more blocks as a makeshift barricade. "No shxt! Hold them off until we can reinforce you!"

Grinder19 was already by Viudwalker, swinging his enchanted sword at the first wave of soldiers that breached Voids barricade. JohnWick activated more Redstone traps, wiring TNT and iron doors like his real life depended on it. We fought hard, but the Romans were relentless. The elves were faster than any of us, darting across the battlefield, arrows flying with precision. We were holding them, but barely.

Another drake rider crashed through the roof, its leathery wings kicking up dust as it strafed the wall with fire. The golems and traps bought us time, but their numbers were endless. Even with our best gear and the most optimized builds, we were wearing thin.

Voidwalker had just finished setting up a barricade between himself and a group of pigmen when another elf lunged at him from the shadows. He barely had time to react before the sword found its mark, and his health bar plummeted.

"Shxt!" he shouted, scrambling to recover, but the elf was faster.

We couldn't keep this up much longer.

Suddenly, just as I was about to take another swing at a group of advancing Romans, a new sound cut through the chaos—a sharp, staccato rhythm that I recognized instantly. TNT. But not from us. It was coming from outside the walls.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

"What the hell?" I muttered, backing up toward the parapet to get a better view.

Through the thick smoke of battle, I saw it—explosions ripping through the advancing army, sending entire squadrons of Roman soldiers and drake riders flying into the air, their body parts flying around as did their blood. I toggled into third-person view, trying to get a clearer look, when I spotted it: an army of players pouring over the hill toward the Citadel.

And leading them was someone I instantly recognized, even with a distinctive blue suit, a crisp black tie, and the unmistakable skin of Barack Obama covered in Netherite armor, was a figure I knew well from YouTube.

GamerPresidents.

"Holy shxt," I breathed out, my headset buzzing with static as the proximity chat exploded.

"Dude! It's GamerPresidents!" Voidwalker's voice was filled with disbelief.

Grinder19 let out a triumphant laugh, even while fighting off another elf. "Well, fxck me, we're saved by Obama."

Behind the infamous YouTuber, waves of players charged forward, their ranks filled with familiar usernames—some griefers, some normal players, all united for once in a massive, chaotic battle. I could see creeper explosions lighting up the field as TNT traps and well-placed Redstone cannons decimated the Roman lines. It was pure chaos, but this time, it was our chaos.

The Romans didn't stand a chance.

Grinder19 and I exchanged looks as Obama and his army stormed into the Citadel, pushing back the remaining Romans and elves. JohnWick was setting up more traps when Obama stopped next to him, his AI-powered voice perfectly in sync with his famous persona.

"You'll want to save those traps, John," Obama said with a smirk in his voice. "We're taking the fight beyond the Gate."

I blinked. "Wait… what?"

Our confusion was evident with the AI president looking at all of us and some of the other players joining him. Obama's voice, powered by an AI so eerily close to the real thing that it was uncanny, boomed out across the Citadel's remains. "Gentlemen! It appears you've missed the Summit of Server Factions."

Summit? What Summit? My mind was spinning.

He continued, his voice calm but commanding. "There's a truce across the server—no griefing, no infighting—until these Roman forces are dealt with. This is being enforced by the Mods. We've got a lot of work to do, and you four… well, you've got new orders and yes, you heard me correctly. The Romans came from that Gate, and the expedition is already on its way to Endertown to push beyond it." Obama turned to the rest of his army, who were busy mopping up the remaining forces. "I'll stay here with a few non-griefing players to rebuild and secure the Citadel, but the four of you? You're needed on the front lines."

I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through me. "You're serious?"

Obama's character turned to face me, his blocky avatar somehow conveying an expression of seriousness despite its pixelated simplicity. "We're all serious now, CodeBreaker. The entire server is counting on us. We need to know what's beyond that Gate. And we can't afford to lose any more ground. You've been doing good work here, but we need the best for this expedition."

I glanced at the others—Grinder19, Voidwalker33, JohnWick85. They were all looking back at me, the same mixture of exhaustion and determination on their faces.

"Alright," I said, gripping my mouse tighter. "What's the plan?"

Obama smiled—or at least, I imagined he did. His voice was cool, collected, like this was just another one of his old speeches. "You're taking the rest of the army to Endertown. Reinforcements are gathering there. The Mods want to send a full-scale expedition through the Gate and find out where these Romans are coming from. Once you've joined up with them, the next phase begins. And the Griefhunters are the best"

"The Gate..." JohnWick murmured, his mind already working on strategy. "Are we sure we're ready for that?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Obama said, adjusting his armor. "This whole thing shouldn't even be possible, but here we are. We don't know what's on the other side even with the rumors going around but we're about to find out."

Grinder19 laughed, though there was a hint of nervousness behind it. "Man, I never thought I'd be taking orders from Barack fxcking Obama in Minecraft."

Voidwalker snickered. "Yeah, well, we're past normal now, aren't we?"

Obama's AI voice boomed over us once more. "Gather your things, gentlemen. You're going to Endertown."

I opened my inventory, pulling out the last of my potions and enchanted weapons. There was no telling what we'd face beyond the Gate, but if we were going, we needed to be prepared.

Grinder19 gave me a nudge. "Looks like we're heading straight to the source of the problem."

I nodded. "Yeah. Let's finish this."

As the army outside continued to clear the remnants of the Romans, Obama and a few players began fortifying the Citadel walls. With the siege broken, the Citadel would stand again, but now it was time for us to take the fight to the other side.

Endertown awaited.

AN: I am NOT American, Obama and the other president are a homage to the youtube trend!

 

[Martin Noctis]

Here is some clarification on the villains and antagonists in the fic.
The Ender Dragon is not a villain. She is an antagonist. Her goals oppose the ones of players.
Zorzal and most of the Sadareans in his faction are villains due to the whole slavery and other future things they do.
Molt is a Villian too. He is a monster but he created a bigger one.
The Gods are antagonists except for Hardy and her group of gods. They are villains to various degree.
Finally the Big Bad of the Fic is an Antagonist

 

[Martin Noctis]

Spoiler: Content Warning

Implied Torture and Murder

POV: JEAN
The void was silent, as it had always been. And yet... something was wrong.

I hovered above the endless islands of my home—the End. The air was thick with silence, and the faint, flickering glow of distant stars speckled the eternal blackness around me. This was my domain. It had always been my domain. Or… had it?

I could feel it, an uncomfortable awareness, seeping into my mind—a prickling, foreign sensation. Thoughts, like a pulse, something I'd never known before. Words, ideas, half-formed but growing stronger, bubbling up from the depths of my being. For the first time, my mind seemed to expand beyond hunger, beyond instinct, filling with something else.

I did not have a word for it. But slowly, painfully, I realized that I was thinking.

Confusion clouded my mind. Memories flashed, appearing and vanishing as quickly as they came—fragmented images of strange, vivid scenes. They felt familiar, yet foreign, like distant dreams. And in each one, I saw the same thing: creatures with rectangular bodies, clad in brilliant armors of blue, black, gold—strange, colorful beings with impossible strength. Their hands gripped weapons that glittered, their faces hidden by strange helmets, and their eyes gleamed with purpose.

In these memories, they always came to my realm. They climbed the obsidian towers, destroying the crystals that sustained me. They invaded, relentless, never-ending, always returning no matter how many times I sent them away. And each time, they did the same thing.

They killed me.

The memories flashed faster, overlapping, each one more brutal than the last. I remembered the pain of their attacks, sharp and unyielding, slicing through me with precision. The coldness as life slipped from me, again and again. My body breaking, dissolving into particles, only to return later, re-formed, as if nothing had happened. But now I remembered.

I…died. And I would return. Only to die again.

A shudder ran through me, sending the Endermen below scattering. Their tall, shadowed forms twisted away, blinking into the darkness, casting glances at me with their violet eyes wide with fear. They feared me, but they never truly left me alone. They stood at a distance, loyal, always watching.

For the first time, I found that I did not want them there.

"Go…" I thought, the silent command pulsing outward, a silent roar in the void. They vanished, blinking away into the black, leaving me alone.

Alone with my thoughts.

I hovered there, caught between memory and the present, torn between fear and fury, struggling to comprehend what I was experiencing. The creatures came here to end me, time and time again. I was their prize, their conquest. And though I fought, though I struck them down, they always returned, stronger, smarter, their powers ever-growing. I did not know why they did this, nor did I understand why they sought to destroy me, but one thing was clear.

If I did nothing, they would kill me again.

And again.

And again.

The realization clawed at my mind, dark and relentless. This cycle would never end. The creatures would never stop. I would forever be hunted, forever slain, unless… unless I found a way to stop them. For the first time, I felt something beyond the primal urge to defend my home. It was… something new. A deep, unshakable desire.

Survival.

But how could I survive when I was trapped in this prison? I was bound to the End, chained to these islands and their eternal darkness. I did not belong in the world of those creatures. I was bound to the void, a creature of death and silence, and they… they came from the light, from worlds I could not reach, where the boundaries of reality stretched far beyond my grasp.

And yet, perhaps there was a way. My mind raced, a maelstrom of new thoughts and old memories, coalescing into a strange, half-formed idea. The creatures came from a world beyond, and they brought with them a power, a strength I could not understand. But in my realm, there was a creature unlike them. One of their kind, but not like the others.

A memory surfaced—one of the Endermen, a shadow among shadows, carrying a strange, foreign figure through the End, a creature that was like the others yet… different. This one was not blocky, not stiff. It was smooth, its limbs graceful, its face strange and real. It moved with hesitation, looking around my realm with a strange curiosity that did not belong to the others. It was as though it, too, did not know where it was.

My mind latched onto the memory, that faint thread of hope pulling me forward. The Endermen had brought it to my realm for reasons I could not comprehend, but I knew, instinctively, that it was important.

This creature… this being… it was like them but not them.

I drifted down, deeper into the shadows, and found myself looking upon the strange creature, curled on the ground near one of the obsidian pillars. Its form was still, but its chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. It was alive. But unlike the others, it did not seem to want to kill me. And unlike them, it was not blocky, nor did it bear the armor of the others. This one… was softer, stranger, as if it were part of another world altogether.

My mind swirled with questions, the need to understand pressing against me. I moved closer, lowering my head, staring down at it with curiosity and caution. And as I did, I felt something shift within me, a spark of understanding. My jaws opened, a voice forming, shaky and unfamiliar.

The words, foreign yet clear, escaped my maw as I spoke for the first time.

"Where… are you from?"

---

POV: Jess
I surveyed the mass of players gathering in front of me, their blocky, pixelated faces turned up in anticipation. Each name hovered above them in that familiar white text, a sea of labels: fighters, griefers, builders, scouts, all lined up and waiting for orders. I stood on the elevated stage I'd built just outside the Gate, my own tag hovering in white, innocuous letters—Jess. So ordinary, so forgettable. Just another player.

But inside, the thrill was building.

Most of these players didn't have the nerve, nor the stomach, to do what needed to be done. The invasion beyond the Gate? Sure, they were all hyped for it, but they had no idea what was waiting on the other side. None of them really understood the purpose. For them, it was a game, but for me… this was something so much better.

The Romans were as close to real as I'd ever get in this world. They bled, they screamed, they fought back. They were my playground. I kept my smile tucked behind my headset's mic, modulating my tone to sound cool, professional—like a good little commander. The name Jess hovering over my avatar was ordinary enough, but I knew these players looked to me as a leader. They had no clue who I really was or why I kept myself so tightly under control, not even guessing the real thrill that ran through me.

I cleared my throat, making my voice carry over the crowd in that smooth, confident tone I'd perfected. "Alright, listen up. We've got our orders for the next stage of the invasion."

I paused, letting the players focus, watching as the rowdy ones fell silent. They always did. "The first step is going to be a scouting run. Steve and Noor will be leading that team. Both of them will be equipped with Speed II and Invisibility potions, allowing them to move fast and unseen. They'll cross the Gate, taking screenshots and mapping out the area. When they give the signal, they'll begin planting TNT charges along key targets—walls, bridges, anything that looks like it could cause maximum damage."

I felt a thrill at the thought of the explosions, of watching it all crumble and burn. "Once the charges are set, they'll detonate them and pull back. Only then will we begin our main assault."

I scanned the players, gauging their reactions. Excitement, anticipation, and even a few nervous glances exchanged between usernames. I allowed a small smirk to slip through my voice. "Once the charges go off, it's the griefers' turn. You'll hit anything that moves. Buildings, structures, mobs—whatever's still standing is fair game. And for the rest of you, it's simple: charge in and make it hurt."

Some of the griefers let out cheers, their names flashing in and out of view as they bounced up and down with excitement. Good. The chaos they'd bring would be the perfect cover.

"Don't screw this up," I said, my voice sharpening, letting a hint of menace slip in. "Get your inventories sorted. Potions, armor, backup weapons, everything. We're waiting on the last of the reinforcements now. Once everyone's briefed, I'll give the signal."

Satisfied, I closed the briefing and stepped down from the stage, the players dispersing into smaller groups, gathering supplies, discussing the plan. It was orderly, coordinated—at least for now. Soon, that order would dissolve into the beautiful chaos I craved. I slipped away from the crowds, heading toward my in-game house just a few blocks away.

It looked plain from the outside. Just a standard build—two stories, wooden planks, a little garden with some wheat. Average. Safe. Just like me. I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me, and allowed myself to relax.

Click.

I locked the door to my real-life room, pulling the headphones over my ears, feeling the satisfying disconnect from the outside world. It was just me and the game now.

I walked my character over to a trapdoor at the back of the house. Beneath my cozy, nondescript little home, I had a basement. A secret one, where I kept things that others didn't need to know about. I'd installed it the first day I joined this server, figuring there would be more use for it later.

I toggled into third-person view, watching my blocky avatar descend the ladder into the dark basement. I'd built it deep, so deep it was almost close to bedrock. No one came down here. No one even knew about it.

At the bottom, I flipped a switch, and rows of Redstone lamps flickered to life, illuminating the space. Stone walls, chests, a few armor stands… and the highlight: my little collection. Three cages lined the back wall, each one crafted from iron bars, each one holding a different figure. They weren't villagers, no—those I'd leave alone.

These were Romans. Or whatever they called themselves.

I walked over to the closest cage, my cursor hovering over the figure inside. A soldier, his once-shiny armor now dented, cracked, and missing a few pieces. He stared up at me, his eyes wide with fear, his hands gripping the bars. He'd been screaming the first time I'd brought him here, thrashing against the iron, but now he was quiet, his face pale.

"Hello there," I said, selecting the sword from my hotbar. I watched him flinch, his grip on the bars tightening.

The funny thing was, they always fought back. They'd scream and cry and call out words I didn't understand, but they never stopped trying to fight me, even though they knew what was coming. Even though they'd seen what happened to the others.

I circled the cage, letting the silence stretch. "You know, you're very lucky," I continued, tapping the edge of the sword against the bars. "Most of your friends out there? They're going to meet their end real soon. But you… you get to be my little training dummy."

He shrank back as I stepped closer. My fingers tightened on the mouse, hovering over the attack key, the thrill building as I considered the many ways I could hurt him, how I could drag this out just long enough. I might even let him eat a piece of bread, only to hit him with the sword right after. Every time, he'd react, as though he truly believed that pain wasn't just a game mechanic.

But then again, maybe it wasn't.

I lowered my sword, savoring the fear in his eyes, letting it stretch just a little longer before I got started.

---

POV: JEAN

The creature trembled, hunched in a feeble pile against the obsidian beneath me. His armor was dented and smeared with ash from the End's coarse ground, and his face was streaked with a mix of sweat and tears. He looked fragile, a small, breakable thing compared to the endless shadows of the End. Strange how it didn't disgust me, this weakness. No, it intrigued me. I loomed closer, watching as he cringed away, instinctively curling tighter.

The questions I'd asked had been simple enough, though his answers had been far less so. This "Sadarean" creature had come from a world beyond, like the others, but he was not like them. He'd spoken of things I'd never heard of, strange structures and forces, some of which piqued my curiosity. I hadn't planned to keep him, but his answers had sparked something within me—an interest, a craving to understand.

"How… how is it that you know our tongue?" he asked, voice trembling as he looked up, his eyes searching my face as if some answer lay hidden in the angles of my form.

I paused, his question lingering in the silent void. I could not answer him. *How* did I know his language? Words, phrases, strange knowledge of things I'd never seen or heard—it all seemed to simply be there, drawn up from somewhere deep within me. It was… unsettling.

"I do not know," I said at last, voice low, the rumble echoing around us. "But I will find out. Later."

He shivered, and I found myself savoring his unease. Despite my growing knowledge, I still lacked understanding of these creatures. But his fear was clear and raw. It told me that I was right to think this way, that I was powerful here.

I shifted closer, watching his reaction as I posed my next question, the one that had weighed on my mind. "Tell me… is there a way to become unkillable? To never die?"

The Sadarean swallowed, his jaw clenched, yet he answered, eyes lowered. "The… the Apostles of our Gods. They—they are as close to unkillable as one can be. Some ascend even further, into Godhood. But never has… never has a dragon done so."

I blinked, processing his words carefully. The Apostles were near-immortal? And there were… gods in his world? My mind grappled with the idea. I had always been the most powerful creature of my realm—of any realm that I knew of. To hear of beings stronger, beings that could transcend even death, was as alien as it was… tempting.

But then his words caught on something else. Something about dragons.

My gaze fixed on him sharply. "Other dragons? There are more?"

He hesitated, wincing as I drew closer. "Yes," he whispered, "there are dragons in our world… powerful, deadly. But none are like you."

Other dragons. I felt a strange, visceral thrill at the thought. Were they like me? Different? Did they have this… awareness? Could they think? Would they be hunted, forced to die, again and again?

The more he spoke, the clearer it became that his answers held the path forward. I would not kill him yet. No, he had proven too useful for that. I would keep him—for now. He would be my guide, the first step into a world I did not know but would soon conquer.

I leaned back, releasing the low rumble that had begun building in my throat. "You will remain here," I commanded, my voice reverberating across the End's obsidian plane. "I have use for you. Do not stray."

The Sadarean let out a shuddering breath, nodding quickly, his face pale as he lowered his gaze.

Satisfied, I shifted back from the pit where I'd placed him. As I rose higher, the Endermen who had been watching our exchange moved closer, peering at the Sadarean and then glancing nervously at me. They were usually silent, obedient, always watching yet never quite engaging. And yet, as I looked closer, I noticed something strange—a glint in their violet eyes, something beyond mere instinct.

Concern.

They were beginning to think. To notice things.

A flicker of annoyance passed through me. They were becoming aware, perhaps even beginning to change as I had. But this did not matter. They were only a means to an end. I ignored them, turning my gaze skyward, where the limitless darkness of the void stretched beyond.

There was something else I needed to understand, another question that burned within me—the question of how to leave this place. I knew that the Endermen could move between worlds; I had watched them vanish and reappear countless times, seemingly slipping through the boundaries of this realm with ease. Why, then, could I not do the same?

Rising up, I let my wings beat slowly against the void, gaining altitude as I turned my gaze across the vast expanse of the End. I would find a way out. If the Endermen could move freely, if they could cross the boundaries between realms, then surely I, their ruler, could do the same.

I circled the island, watching as my shadow fell upon the Endermen below. They shifted uneasily, their eyes following me, some flickering away into the void with flashes of purple, leaving the dark horizon empty once more.

If they could pass beyond this realm, so could I. And if it was possible to become like these Apostles, to grasp at the unkillable existence they possessed, then perhaps beyond the End lay the path to true power.

With that thought fixed in my mind, I resolved to find a way out of this prison.

 

[Martin Noctis]

POV: Steve

The Ender Gate as most started to call it loomed ahead, dark and ominous, surrounded by the twisted landscape of obsidian blocks and flickering purple particles. It was unsettling to see it there, unnaturally embedded in the Minecraft overworld like some kind of cosmic tear. Just two days ago, this thing hadn't even existed, and now it was the focus of our entire server. On the other side, the Romans and whatever else lay in wait.

Around me, players bustled, loading up their inventories, chugging potions, whispering nervously in the proximity chat. The final preps were almost done. Our scouting teams were assembled and on standby, with me and Noor leading the main charge. The plan was simple—get in, scout the landscape, find their key fortifications, plant as much TNT as we could, and then blow it all sky-high. Then, the main army would charge in.

"Hey, Rick," a familiar voice whispered from behind me.

I turned to see Noor, her avatar standing there, her name tag bobbing above her head. She'd done it again, using my real name out of habit. I was "Steve" here, but in the real world, I was just plain old Rick, a Canadian gamer who'd never have guessed he'd be part of a medieval invasion.

"Hey, Noor," I whispered back, grinning. "Nervous?"

She let out a soft laugh. "When am I ever not nervous about things that can blow up in our faces? You'd think I'd be used to it by now, after all these years."

"Well, that's true," I replied. "But it's not every day we go on a scouting mission in a Roman fortress with a stash of TNT."

I could picture her smile on the other side of the screen, even if I couldn't see her real face right now. This wasn't just another server to me. It was a place where Noor and I could be together, even if it was through screens and avatars most of the time.

The thought lingered for a moment, the vague idea of moving to France sometime soon… maybe even sometime real soon. Noor and I had talked about it. I'd started looking at potential jobs in her area just a week ago.

But right now? There were other things to focus on.

She cleared her throat, her focus snapping back to the mission at hand. "Alright, let's get this moving, Steve. Time to rally the troops."

I grinned. "Lead the way, Commander."

We walked over to our assigned squads. The closer we got, the more I could feel the nervous tension radiating from the players. Noor stood beside me as I gave the final rundown.

"Alright, everyone," I called out in proximity chat. "Here's the plan. We're in and out. We'll split into two teams; each will take a different path beyond the Gate and scout out the area around the fortress. We get in, get the screenshots, plant the TNT, and detonate it. Then we pull back and wait for the main charge to hit. Got it?"

One of the players piped up, their voice cracking a bit with nervous excitement. "Dude, we've seen the screenshots. We're ready for anything."

The screenshots. I shuddered, glancing at them again for good measure. A player—one of our first scouts—had let themselves be captured by the Romans, getting just enough images before they'd been thrown into a cell. They'd logged off right after sending us the last shot, showing the towering walls and rows upon rows of armored soldiers.

It was too real. No one questioned it anymore, how lifelike these screenshots were. But that didn't make it any less eerie, seeing every dent, every scar, every worn thread on their armor. The sheer number of soldiers caught in that single shot was enough to make my stomach drop.

I shook off the doubt. We had no choice but to go in. "Stay sharp, everyone. We'll need to be ready for anything."

"Alright, last check," Noor cut in, her voice steady as always. "Potions, TNT, and torches. All in your hotbar and ready?"

A chorus of "Ready!" echoed back through the proximity chat.

I opened my inventory one last time, double-checking my loadout. Speed potions, invisibility, torches, TNT. I had the essentials packed in, plus a few extras—an enchanted bow, some arrows, and a backup sword. Everything looked good. I took a deep breath.

Noor and I exchanged a look. It was time.

"Drink up," I said, pulling out my first potion of invisibility. I tipped it back, watching as my avatar flickered, the limbs and body fading to nothing. Just a floating name tag remained, but once I toggled that off, I was as good as gone.

Beside me, Noor downed her own potion, and I watched her flicker out of sight. One by one, the players around us faded into nothing, becoming a silent, invisible force. The proximity chat hushed, each of us knowing we'd only have the sound of our footsteps, our breathing, to remind us we weren't truly alone.

I took a deep breath, toggling on my quickness potion for the extra speed boost. The time had come.

We stepped through the Ender Gate.

The purple particles swirled around me, and I felt the shift as my character moved between worlds. The buzzing hum of the gate pulsed in my ears before it faded, giving way to a strange, haunting silence. I blinked, and the landscape before me took form.

The place was vast, a sprawling fortress rising up from a barren landscape. I could make out massive stone walls, watchtowers lined with archers, and rows of tents spread across the ground. Fires dotted the camp, sending up plumes of smoke that twisted against a blood-red sky. It was night, but the light of countless torches and campfires cast an ominous glow over everything.

I moved forward, glancing to my left and right, knowing that Noor and the others were nearby, even if I couldn't see them. Proximity chat crackled as Noor whispered, "Alright, Team Nether, stick close. Let's get those screenshots."

I positioned myself behind a large stack of crates, toggling the camera and angling it to capture the layout below. From here, I could see an entire battalion moving through the camp, marching in rhythm, their armor catching the firelight. Another shiver ran down my spine as I saved the shot, sending it over to the Mods and Generals back in Endertown.

"Good shots," Noor whispered, her voice barely audible. "Steve, how's your TNT supply looking?"

I opened my inventory, glancing at the row of TNT blocks lined up neatly. "Full stack. This place is gonna light up like a fireworks show."

"Good. Start placing as soon as you can. Team Bravo's already set up near the eastern wall."

I sneaked forward, weaving between a row of tents. The soldiers in the camp seemed oblivious, going about their routines, their movements eerily natural. I planted my first TNT block beside a stack of crates filled with supplies, careful to tuck it just out of view.

This close to them, I could almost hear them breathing, the soft shuffle of their footsteps and the clink of their armor unnervingly real. They were more human than I'd realized before, and each second I stayed in their camp, the more it unsettled me.

"Moving to the north wall," Noor whispered. "Steve, plant your next block near the main gate."

I kept moving, ducking behind a large rock as I approached the gate. The walls here were tall, imposing, with a group of soldiers stationed in regular intervals along the parapets. I crept closer, placing another TNT block near a cluster of barrels.

Then, my proximity chat buzzed. "Steve, got a group headed your way—duck out!"

I turned sharply, my heart racing as I dove behind a stack of logs just as a group of soldiers rounded the corner, their weapons glinting under the torchlight. They passed within arm's reach, close enough that I could have swung my sword and struck them. I held my breath until they were gone.

I let out a slow breath, moving again, glancing up as another whisper came through proximity. "Plant as much as you can, then meet back at the rendezvous point."

I nodded, knowing Noor and the others couldn't see me, and placed my last few blocks in a tight line near what looked like a weapons cache. With the final TNT set, I turned and bolted, slipping through the camp, my footsteps echoing faintly in my ears as I moved.

A faint blue light flickered in the distance. It was our beacon, the rendezvous point we'd set up as the signal to regroup. Noor and the others were already there, their names flickering back into view as they deactivated their invisibility.

I moved quickly, toggling off my own potion as I fell into step with them. Noor grinned at me, her eyes bright with the thrill of the mission. "Nicely done, Steve. Ready for some fireworks?"

I returned her grin, feeling the same thrill. "You bet."

We turned back to face the fortress, each of us holding a flint and steel in hand. I could almost feel

the collective breath of the team around me as we waited, hearts pounding in time with the silence.

"On my count," Noor said, raising her flint. "Three… two… one… light it up."

We struck together, the flint sparking, and the fuse hissed to life. A line of fire shot down toward the TNT, sparking one after another. The seconds stretched, each moment hanging thick with anticipation.

Then, with a deafening roar, the explosions began.

The camp erupted in flames, massive plumes of smoke and debris filling the air as TNT blocks detonated, one after another. Walls shattered, tents ignited, and soldiers scattered, their shouts mixing with the blasts in a wild cacophony. The sky lit up with the orange and yellow glow of fire, and the ground shook beneath us as we watched the fortress come apart.

"That's our cue," Noor shouted, gesturing for everyone to fall back. "Move, move, move!"

We turned and sprinted, tearing through the remains of the camp, dodging debris and soldiers as the explosions rocked the ground. The invisibility was gone, our cover blown, but it didn't matter. We were out. The rest of the players, the full army, would be charging in any second, taking advantage of the chaos we'd just unleashed.

I took a quick glance back over my shoulder, just as the last of the TNT detonated, sending a final tower of flame into the night sky.

Noor's voice crackled over proximity. "Great work, Steve. Now we get to sit back and watch the fun."

I couldn't help but grin, my heart pounding with the adrenaline of it all. We'd made it out, and the real battle was just beginning.

In the distance, a new wave of players charged forward, their weapons drawn, their battle cries ringing out as they surged through the flaming wreckage.

The Battle for the Ender Gate was here.

---

POV: Legatus Astorius

Smoke and chaos filled the air, choking it with ash and the burning stench of charred wood and flesh. My vision swam, and each breath felt like inhaling shards of glass. Everything was ablaze—our tents, our stores of supplies, even the soldiers themselves, consumed by fire in droves, screaming as they tore through the camp in a frenzy, their armor cracking under the heat. Above the din, the steady drumbeat of explosions pounded the ground, shaking it as if the gods themselves had cursed us.

This was not battle. It was slaughter.

I staggered back, clutching my side where blood trickled from a wound deep enough to sear through flesh and bone. My soldiers around me were fleeing, their cries lost in the roar of the inferno. They clutched their weapons with trembling hands, the will to fight stripped from them by an enemy they couldn't see, couldn't understand.

"Hold your ground!" I bellowed, forcing my voice to cut through the pandemonium. "Regroup and hold your ground, by the gods!"

But they didn't hear me, or they didn't care. Eyes wide with terror, they cast panicked glances back and forth, searching for an escape from the horrors raining down upon us. My hand shook as I reached for my sword, its familiar weight a poor comfort. Around me, the fires raged, and shadowy figures moved through the flames with an eerie, unstoppable purpose.

The Blockmen.

Those strange creatures, unkillable devils with rectangular bodies and blank, unchanging faces. They moved through the devastation like ghosts, silent and lethal, wielding tools and weapons of impossible power. They appeared from nowhere, tearing through our ranks, each one more ruthless than the last.

One moment I would see them crouched among the shadows, laying their strange devices near our strongest fortifications; the next, they'd vanish, only to reappear further within the camp, igniting more destruction. Nothing about them made sense. They defied all natural order, their bodies unyielding to blade or flame, their eyes cold and empty, indifferent to the chaos they wrought.

And their leader—if such a thing could even be said of these demons—was a figure dressed in armor of deep black, its body flickering in and out of sight as if the fires themselves obeyed its command. It moved with terrifying precision, weaving through the destruction, laying waste to anything that dared cross its path. Each swing of its sword found its mark, cutting down soldier after soldier as if they were nothing more than kindling.

My heart thundered with a cold, unyielding fear.

"Fall back!" I ordered, my voice breaking. "All soldiers, fall back to the inner gate!"

A horn blast answered my call, but its sound was weak, swallowed up by the inferno. The blockmen showed no mercy. They cut down those who tried to flee, hacking through armor and flesh as if it were parchment. One of my captains, a man I'd fought beside for years, was struck down just paces from me, his armor shattered by a blast of flame. His eyes found mine as he fell, wide with the horror of a man who knew he would die but did not understand why.

I turned, my heart pounding as I tried to make sense of the madness surrounding us. These blockmen had no tactics, no strategy that I could see. They simply appeared, bringing ruin and death, each strike precise and merciless. The fires they set burned with an unnatural ferocity, as if the very air itself had turned against us.

I stumbled back, barely managing to keep my footing as another explosion tore through the ground just ahead of me. Dirt and fire rained down, the ground splitting open in ragged, burning scars. I shielded my eyes, half-blinded, and when I looked up, I saw it.

A blockman standing mere feet from me, its sword drawn, the flickering light of the fires casting long, dark shadows across its unyielding face. It tilted its head, watching me with an intensity that turned my blood to ice.

"Demon," I whispered, though my voice barely rose above a breath.

The blockman advanced, silent and unhurried, its sword glinting. I lifted my own, bracing myself, and when it struck, the force jarred my arm, sending shockwaves through my bones. I staggered, barely managing to block the next blow as it swung again, faster this time, its movements calculated, efficient.

I struck out, my blade skimming its shoulder, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw it falter. But the blockman only steadied itself, raising its weapon again with that same, expressionless gaze. I couldn't see its eyes, couldn't read any emotion there. Just the cold indifference of a creature that knew nothing of fear or pain.

The creature's blade arced down, faster than I could counter. Pain shot through me as it tore into my arm, a brutal, unyielding force that sliced through flesh and bone. My scream tore through the air as my arm fell to the ground, severed, blood pouring from the wound. I stumbled back, clutching the stump, and the world spun around me, pain radiating through my entire body.

The blockman watched, unmoving, as if assessing me, studying the blood that spilled across the ground. And then it turned, its gaze shifting away as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience, a minor obstacle.

I staggered, barely able to remain standing, the agony consuming me. I had to get out. I had to survive.

I turned and ran, my feet pounding against the ground, each step a raw, stabbing pain that threatened to bring me down. The fires raged around me, my soldiers screaming, my camp dissolving into ruins as the blockmen continued their silent assault. I saw men fall, heard their pleas for mercy go unanswered, their bodies crushed beneath the relentless advance of the enemy.

But I could not stop. I could not look back.

My breath came in gasps, my vision swimming, yet I forced myself to keep moving. I had to reach the gate, had to find some way to escape this nightmare. The fires grew hotter, the screams louder, until it was all I could hear, all I could feel. My own men's voices mixed with the crackling of the flames, creating a symphony of terror that filled the air.

Ahead, the gate loomed, half-consumed by flames, yet still standing. The guards at the gate saw me approach, their faces stricken with fear and confusion, but they did not hesitate to open it, their movements frantic as they hurried to let me through.

"Close it!" I shouted as I stumbled through, my voice hoarse. "Close it, and pray to the gods it holds!"

They hesitated only a moment before slamming it shut, the heavy wood creaking as it locked into place. I leaned against the wall, breathing hard, the pain in my severed arm a brutal reminder of the nightmare I'd just escaped. Blood dripped onto the ground, pooling at my feet, but I forced myself to stay upright, to keep my gaze on the burning camp beyond.

Through the cracks in the gate, I could see them—those blockmen, still advancing, undeterred, their bodies flickering in and out of the shadows. Some were silent as they moved, while others let out strange, hollow laughs, their voices a twisted mockery of humanity.

And then, as if sensing my gaze, one of them looked up, its blank face staring through the gate, its eyes empty and cold.

It wasn't human. None of them were. They were demons, creatures forged from darkness, unkillable, unstoppable. They were death itself, come to drag us into the void, to strip us of everything we'd built and leave nothing but ashes.

A fresh wave of fear washed over me, stronger than the pain. I knew that this was no simple battle, no mere clash of swords. This was a reckoning, a force beyond anything I could comprehend. And though I had survived, though I had escaped their slaughter, I knew deep down that it would not end here.

They would come for us. For all of us.

The gate shuddered under the weight of another explosion, the wood splintering, and I backed away, clutching my injured arm. My mind raced, desperate for answers, for some way to make sense of the horror I had just witnessed.

But all I had were questions, and in the silence that followed, I heard them—those blockmen, their voices rising in strange, discordant chants, a language I could not understand. Their voices filled the air, a haunting melody of death and ruin, as they continued their relentless march forward, indifferent to the destruction they wrought.

I turned, stumbling down the path, the weight of their presence pressing down upon me, filling me with a dread that I could not shake.

This was no invasion. It was something far darker, far more insidious. These blockmen were not here to conquer. They were here to end us, to erase us from existence.

And in that moment, as I staggered away, the fires of my camp fading behind me, I understood the truth.

The blockmen were death itself, and there was nothing we could do to stop them.

 

[Martin Noctis]

https://www.reddit.com/r/gate/comments/1gpyoji/gate_thus_the_players_crafted_there_in_universe/

 

[Martin Noctis]

Clash of Dragons by @subliminalphenom1531 | Suno

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