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.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

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.

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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.