The Broken Flame

Deep within Minecraftia lies a realm of despair and pain, a place of hottest hell and creatures of those kinds that were feared. Within the Nether of Minecraftia, Piglins and the large Hoglins wandered around. They carried weapons of gold in their hands and were hostile to anything that was not of their kind. They were viscous, taking out anything in their paths.

Ghasts blasted at anything they perceived as a threat and Magma Cubes bounced around, crushing those who were unfortunate enough to get below their paths. Striders walked aimlessly while Wither Skeletons and Blazes guarded the secrets of their Nether Fortresses. Endermen occasionally appeared within the blue flamed Warped Forests of the Nether. The realm was dark, deadly, and no place for a human to make their home or wander for a while.

However, there was one being who called this place his ruling realm. One Demi-God who was to be feared throughout the realms.

Some called him a ghost. Some called him a glitch in the servers. Others called him the dead brother of the once queen of Minecraftia’s gods, Iraura. She was known to have fallen from grace after He first appeared in Minecraftia’s Overworld. And for millennia, the world has been terrorized by this being.

Those who have seen him or heard him know what his presence is like. A dark, malevolent energy seems to follow him wherever he travels, and it’s one of the main signs he’s nearby. The being often shears trees’ leaves or sets them aflame, digs perfectly square tunnels, leaves Redstone torches in various places, and his white eyes could be seen from blocks away. 

Everyone knew how he had been described. A man who often floated on Nether Portal colored clouds with two red swords, one in each hand. The swords seemed to glow with some strange light, like Redstone in the mines.

Many had witnessed his attacks. He showed no mercy to his victims, slicing them open, throwing them around, using fire against them; all of it with no remorse. His white eyes were cold, emotionless, conveying nothing but bloodlust. And nothing seemed to satiate that. He killed countless people, sent the monsters of the world after humans, and he would haunt those he deemed more worthy of his wrath. But those less fortunate to catch his eye, he would slaughter them with no hesitation.

He went by many names. He went by Him, the Ghost, the Glitch, Iraura’s Dead Brother, the Fallen Demi-God; all of these names were addressing this being.

But his true name? The one that stuck fear into everyone in the Overworld?

Herobrine.

And on this day, the being would strike again.

Within the deepest depths of the Nether, a castle stood of dark bricks and red and black banners, bearing a symbol resembling a flame. The windows were of black and red stained glass while bridges and iron bars decorated the castle’s walls. It all sat above a lava ocean within one of the Crimson Forests. Red particles floated from the mushrooms and trees and circled around the large structure.

Inside, mobs wandered about, mostly those of the Nether, some of the Overworld, and a few Endermen who teleported around these other monsters. They all wandered before the throne of their king, their ruler, the one who ordered their attacks on the humans of the Overworld. It was a tall, ornate chair of various Nether bricks, surrounded by flames and redstone.

However, the King of the Mobs and Prince of the Nether was not seated in his throne. Oh, no, he was resting in the very highest room of the castle, his chamber, his resting place. There he was in the middle of the darkened room. Herobrine floated a few inches off the ground, with his arms out at his sides and eyes closed. His head was tilted forward the tiniest bit. Redstone torches formed a circle around him, and a white, wispy mist floated around him in his state of rest. The mist circled him as he floated, still as stone, save for his breathing.

The iron doors to the being’s room slowly creaked open, with a Blaze poking his head inside to see his master in his sleeping state. The Blaze then shut the door and looked behind him. A Wither Skeleton and a small Magma Cube stood there. The Wither Skeleton suddenly asked, “Is he awake, Barry?”

The Blaze shook his head, the rods of his form gentling circling him. He spoke, smoke spilling from his lips. “No, but it is sunset in the Overworld. He may dish his wrath out upon us if we do not wake him. This is when he goes out to hunt the mortals of the world.” He turned to look through the tiny windows of the iron doors, not seeing any movement from Herobrine. He knew that their ruler needed to be awoken, he just didn’t plan on being the one with that duty today.

Barry sighed and found himself shaking his head. He had a job to do, whether or not it would get him killed remained to be seen. He looked back at his companions again. “I’m going to wake him. Wanda, Carrie, stay here. If he unleashes an attack on me, I don’t want you in the crossfire.”

The two nodded and Barry pushed open the door, making his way inside. He slowly floated to the King of Mobs, stopping within three blocks of him. The ancient man’s powerful influence made it heard to stay within that radius, but he knew he had to endure it to wake him. He gently reached with a Blaze Rod to the man, and gently poked his chest. “Master Herobrine,” he uttered ever so quietly.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, white eyes snapped open to the room around him.

Herobrine’s arms fell to his sides as the mist disappeared and he dropped to the ground, his stance like that of a general of an army. His shoulders were squared and back straight. His glare was unwavering as he came face-to-face with the mob that had awoken him from his rest. He let a deep frown fall on his face.

Barry tried not to fret under the powerful man’s gaze, but he couldn’t help but stutter as he spoke. “He--Hello, M--Master Herobrine! I… I’m sorry to… to awaken you from your slumber. But--but the sun has nearly… nearly set in the--the Overworld. I hope--”

The Blaze was cut off by a fist flying into his face, knocking him back and selling him hurtling several blocks away and to the ground. The mob tried to pick himself up in his sudden dazed state, but a hand reached down and grabbed the top of his head, hauling him up to eye level with Herobrine.

The being sneered and, in a dark voice, whispered, “Barry, what have I told you about speaking to me?”

The dark whisper sounded like the Nether’s fury and all things he should have feared wrapped into one voice. Barry squinted his eyes in fright, speaking quickly so as not to make his master wait and give him more reason to possibly kill him. “Never to… stutter when speaking to you?”

“Exactly,” came Herobrine’s voice. It was dark, intrepid, silky, but sinister all the same. And it echoed as he talked, like two beings speaking at the same time. He also had a very detectable accent, one that he called, “Dutch,” when asked. It was the accent of many of the higher beings in Minecraftia’s paradise, but no one knew why Herobrine shared this accent. He refused to answer that question.

Herobrine kept his grasp on the mob as those black eyes looked into his with terror. “Calm yourself, mob! You know showing such fear only angers me more.” He let the mob go and Barry backed away a few blocks, trying to keep out of the deadly man’s reach. “You know that, under my rule, you shall not show such fear in my presence. You cannot do that. What would humans think of you if they could see this fear? You’d be nothing but a few Blaze rods within a moment’s notice. You must show no fear, no mercy. Do I make myself clear?”

The Blaze bowed his head. “Yes, my king. I apologize for my stuttering.”

Herobrine made a small, “tch,” before walking past the mob and pushing the doors to his chamber open.

Wanda bowed before her ruler, Carrie only closing her eyes. “Good evening, Master Herobrine.”

The being kept his brows furrowed. “Girls, take Barry to the training chamber. He obviously needs to get rid of his fears before he can be allowed outside in the fortresses.”

The Wither Skeleton nodded. “At once, my Lord.”

The being began his walk again, making his way to a spiral staircase and moving down the steps. He then began to walk between halls and stairs, spotting several different mobs in his stroll. Blazes and Zombified Piglins whispered amongst each other as Endermen and Zombies moved from his path. Herobrine paid no mind to their chatter. He knew what they were saying, his acute sense of hearing allowed that. He knew they always talked about the same thing:

How much he was to be feared and obeyed.

As he finally made his way into the throne room, the Nether Prince saw all eyes turn to him. The mobs stopped everything and turned to face their ruler. Herobrine kept his frown and dark glare. The mobs all moved to one knee or bowed their heads. “Good evening, Master Herobrine,” came their voices in unison, all in the tongue of the monsters.

The Demi-God let a grin cross his face, the kind when he was satisfied or happy to see or hear something. Oh, this was going to be a good night.

“Good evening, my subjects,” Herobrine announced, his voice echoing in the large chamber. “I see you are all prepared for my orders.” He turned his gaze to a particular Enderman in the corner, one slightly smaller than the other Endermen, and with green eyes. “Eric, are all mobs accounted for?”

The Ender nodded. “Yes, my Lord. All mobs here have been accounted for.” 

“Good.” He began to gesture to the mobs in groups, giving his commands like a monarch commanding his army. “Creepers, Zombies, Skeletons, Spiders, and Phantoms! Head into the Overworld once the sun has set. Be on the lookout for any humans up late or out of their homes. Let them feel your wrath if they try to stop you from destroying them.”

He then moved his gaze to the Nether mobs. “Blazes, Wither Skeletons, Piglins, Ghasts, and Magma Cubes! Split among your ranks and scour the Nether Fortresses and Crimson Forests. If you see any humans, let them feel the might of the Nether.”

He then looked up to the tallest of the mobs, the Enders. “Enders, make your way into the Warped Forests and split among yourselves in the Overworld. The End is closely guarded by your kind there, so no need to worry about it. Remember, if a mortal dares to even look in your direction, tear them apart!” 

The being gestured to himself, a hand on his chest. “I have some business in the Overworld to attend to. A certain miner is going to get what he deserves this night.” He saw all of the mobs bow and ready to work. “Now, move out! It is time for the mortals of the Overworld to live in fear of us for another night!”

All the mobs nodded and stood, spreading out and making their ways to their respective posts. Herobrine watched them all for a moment, before making his way across the room. He headed for a small chamber where his personal Nether Portal resided.

As the Demi-God walked across the floor, Eric and another Enderman, Aaron, watched him, green and purple eyes focused on the being. When he was out of earshot, or so they hoped, Eric spoke. “Pffft, what a coward.”

Aaron raised his brows and turned to look at his companion. “Whatever do you mean, Eric?”

“If he was really our ruler, he would stay in his throne to show his ‘superiority’ and iron fist to us. He wouldn’t go wander off the play with mortals if he was a true king.”

Aaron’s eyes went wide and he looked at the slightly shorter Enderman. “Eric, watch what you say. You know how good his hearing is. Besides, he’s only showing his strength and powers to us. Is that not enough to show you he should be the one to call our lord?”

Eric waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t care how ‘good’ everyone says his hearing is, he can’t touch me.” He then put both hands on his hips. “And so what if he has all these powers? If you ask me, I feel that he’s simply hiding from his duties as King of the Mobs. I think… Herobrine is afraid.”

That sentence earned several sharp gasps and stares from the other mobs, and they knew that Eric had made a mistake.

And that mistake would be fatal.