- Pronouns
- He
What do you think he was doing at the GATE?
Joe thankfully stopped him by saying that the Romans haven't yet seen the glory of the worlds best Minecraft Player
GATE: Thus the Players Crafted There
- Thread starter Martin Noctis
- Start date
- Crossover
Joe thankfully stopped him by saying that the Romans haven't yet seen the glory of the worlds best Minecraft Player
Baughn
Healing-type writer
- Location
- Dublin
Well, what happens if there's a power failure?
- Pronouns
- He
On worldwide scale? The Server still exists
- Pronouns
- He
I added Disney Villains' sing "This is the Thanks I Get" from Wish by Caleb Hyles to the playlist as the villain song for the four gods who will be the biggest villains outside of the Empire, as well as the other secret ones.
Villains and Antagonists
- Pronouns
- He
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
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
- Location
- none of your business
Hmm, so do the rules allow for skins of characters from other franchises? Because I can think of a few that would be a good excuse to beat the crap outta a bunch of slavers while quoting their favorite characters
- Pronouns
- He
Yes but you mostly need to stay in character and there are few rules against specific characters
IAmNotAlpharius
Not Omegan either
Huh, so Jean is sapient here and not just a video game boss? Neat
- Pronouns
- He
The Gate changed many things. This song fits her character arc though it may contain few spoilers
IAmNotAlpharius
Not Omegan either
Well that was extremely depressing
- Pronouns
- He
Life is depressing when you are the final boss of a popular video game not being self aware until a few days ago
- Pronouns
- He
Next chapter preview: END.EXE NOT RESPONDING
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?"
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?"
END.EXE NOT RESPONDING
- Pronouns
- He
Implied Torture and Murder
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.
- Pronouns
- He
But of course they did. They messed with Gamers after all. I will now be answering Questions
- Pronouns
- He
Yes it is. More specifically it remembered its deaths in the worlds made by every player on the server.
- Location
- none of your business
What about opening a Gate into a Marvel NYC so Cap can show why most every single member of the USAF regardless of branch will salute and listen to him and Thor will have "words" with the Gods
- Pronouns
- He
I actually had an idea for a simellar story but involving the Thunderbolts though with a different line up
- Location
- United States
Wonder what God the Ender Dragon will become the Apostle of? Hardy would be the obvious answer, though it would be more interesting if it was another God...
The big question is whether or not they intended to connect to Minecraft or not?
- Pronouns
- He
The Gatekeeper has the answer to that question
- Pronouns
- He
PREWIEV FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! THE PENUIPALANT FOR ARC 1!
PLAYER ID: STEVE MISSING
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.
PLAYER ID: STEVE MISSING
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.
PLAYER ID: STEVE MISSING
- Pronouns
- He
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.
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.
I wonder what will happen when a player tames a god will that make more people believe they are like the creators of the entire world and gods because that hilarious and also insane because minecraftians are able to hack the world and also able to make a person nonexistent with their "code" even the gods
- Pronouns
- He
That wont happen. I want to give the Gods and Sadareans some chances for victory