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?"
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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.
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"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.
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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.