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Hero, Brine.
The greatest saviors of this cruel universe are the ones not a soul belived they needed. The heroes no one asks for or thinks they need, but get anyways. They sacraficed everything: what is your cross to bear? Thus was the case for Brine.
In the beginning, there was a light in the nothingness: Notch, the first star to shine in the universe. Endlessly suffocating and starving, but not dying. Immortal. Inhuman. Alienatic. He had...nothing. Or so he thought. He had everything. Himself. It wasn't much, but there wasn't much to have. As all stars do he aged after millions of years, turning into a red giant before he exploded. The stardust formed a new star, as stardust does, and the new star was still Notch. But not all of the stardust was used on the creation of Notch II. Something went astray. And thus, the world was born, pixels clicking together to form blocks, blocks clicking together to form land, land clicking together to form a land mass named 'New World'. In New World there were trees. Birches. Oaks. Acaias. Flowers. Daisies. Peonies. Orchids. Animals. Pigs. Sheep. Cows. People. Brine. Village folk. Notch.
The villagers grouped together and set off, learning how to punch down trees, how to create planks, and how to mine. They built civilizations, elected mayors, and followed religion. Brine chose to be a lone wolf, making due by himself. When he was shot down from the sky into the merciless world 'New World' he went over to the nearest tree and began to attack it, his hands screaming in pain as they hit the rough bark of an oakwood. He did this until he had sixteen blockjs of wood, and then he turned them into a stack of planks. He used four of them to make a crafting table, two of them to make four sticks, four sticks and five blocks of wood to make a wooden pickaxe and sword. There was an extreme hills biome in the distance: about sixteen chunks away. He started off towards it. Using his pickaxe, Brine started hacking away at the stone until he had three blocks of cobble that he used along side two sticks that he crafted to make a stone pick. He continued to mine with his wooden pick until it ran out, then started mining with his stone pick. So far he had bad luck: no coal, no iron, nothing but cold, dead, stone walls and a darkness blacker than void. He mined with his stone pick until it, to, broke into pebbles. Still no luck. He crafted another pick with the two remaining sticks and some of the cobble he had collected whilst mining. He mined more, and more, and more, all to no prevail. One more block and I'll turn back: this isn't working. That slight bit of determination would change his life forever.
He hacked away at one more block of stone, revealing what he thouht to be ore. Brine hit it with his pick as hard as he could: it shattered. He picked up one of the shards of his pick, examining it, finding that it had simply run out of durability. Brine crafted another one and hit the new ore again: still no luck. Confused, he hit it with his fists to try and diagnose the problem.
The ore fell back into the stone, leaving gaps. Brine stuck his fists through the gaps, trying to locate the mysterious ore. He touched it, and things certainly did happen. His head snapped back and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
"The lone wolf dies a lone wolf!" Notch yelled, the entire biome crumbling down to bedrock before him.
Notch fell to ground with the force of a thousand lions, his diamond sword pointing straight towards the sky.
"Traitor to the people!"
"Nothing of use!"
His diamond sword sparked, before shooting a bolt of lightning into the sky which reflected right back to Brine. Somehow, he survived.
Notch laughed. "Oi, you seem to be one of the strong ones, a true miner. Make not a mistake in our path, or face this test of resistence yet again."
The pixels that made Notch detached from one another until he was one no more. Brine stood still, shocked. Slowly, he turned away and walked off. He decided right then and there where he belonged: not in a village, not in a witch's hut, not in a mansion, but a cave. Determined but still shocked, he started to dig up earth with a new pick and shovel he had crafted. But in this, he made one fatal mistake: he dug straight down.
The villagers played it safe, exploring cave whose openings could be seen from the surface only. Brine did no such thing. He had no way to know of the fate that awaited him. Alas, Brine, the first miner to encounter Notch, fell in to a pit of lava. He burned to a crisp, but strangely did not die. He respawned, back where he originally entered the world. There was a villager who stood right in front of him.
"W...w...witch! Do not move! Winston, bring the golems!"
The villager drew a sword and started attacking Brine in fear, Brine helpless against this attack. He was killed yet again. He respawned again, enraged at the villager's quick judgement.
"I am no witch! I saw Notch! Do not judge so quickly!" Brine yelled, his eyes still rolled in the back of his head from the shock of seeing Notch, his hands sparking as he rose into the air. The villager dropped his weapon in pure fear but did not move: scared still as Brine shot an electric pulse straight through his heart, rewiring the villager's brain into that of a player.
Brine fell to the ground again. "Be freed, villager. Think for yourself. The free spirit follows the path of the lone wolf."
The villager was no longer a villager: he was changed. He was..new. Steve. He ran back to his village, just to find his friends and family hostile towards him.
"Witch! What kind of foul creature have you shifted into this time!"
They attacked him, but he escaped their assult and fled his home. Freedom has a price. To this day he hates Brine, his anger misplaced. Brine: the sheep in wolf's clothing.
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POPREEEEEL!
PMC must be constantly on bleach, I suppose.