54
I made something! My prose is purple, but hopefully it was enough for your enjoyment. I'm going to sit back now and enjoy a cold cup of generic-drink.
_____________________________________
Wither gazed upon the vast, eerily silent expanse of its desolate domain. It spat fire at a passing slime, blowing it into dust. It had been sensing something - a pure presence, offensive to it that had been brewing above the fiery fjords which kept at bay the encroaching swine and the black towers that housed its legions of followers. Such a thing was foreign to it, as were many of the geographical aspects that had changed since its last disintegration. Wither had experienced this sort of vertigo before, but not in its sense of the world above. It only had a faint recollection of what Overworld had looked like when it had been revived there once before, during its twenty-second reemergence. Of course, it was bound to have changed by now, for it had been re-invigorated thousands of times since then, all in its natural environment. The one it loved best, of course, but the difference was so meager that it could have eaten it. This time, however, it felt a certain courageousness. An indescribable boldness that permeated every corner of its center head.
If it had been human, it might have described it as a migraine.
~~~
He had been cast through light, darkness and depths. He felt as though he was free-falling and then being dragged on solid ground. He was everywhere in the universe at once, at the same time fitting into the tiniest pinprick of a molecule.
It was a spinning sensation he felt. Drop, drag, grow, shrink, drop, drag, grow shrink, all in steady revolution around THE CENTER.
This falling and dragging grew faster and faster, cycling through and through these phases millions of times a second, trillions a minute. He spun through this cosmic clock on a rocket engine, speeding up and up, and he felt as he might explode from the outward force. The rotation reached a climax of terrifying magnitude, and, though he had come to this point many times before, he was scared that he might somehow de-materialize and be lost forever! But he fell down, down through the depths once more, slowing to a more reasonable speed to where he could breath, move and eventually stand. The darkness gave way to light.
He found his eyes, and opened them. A field again.
~~~
In slight terror, he had felt for the arrow shot through his chest, and to his relief, did not find it. Surrounded by a forest of stubby oaks, he trekked about a mile and a half to a mountain range he observed after climbing the branches of one of the taller trees. After climbing for what seemed like hours, he reached the snowy cap of the mountain he desired.
Inhaling the clean, bountiful mountain air, he burrowed deep into the earth using a makeshift pickaxe from a tree he had uprooted earlier. There he found his treasure; the compass he had buried here months ago for just such an occasion. Next to it was a stack of small organic beads. They shimmered in the light entering the hole, seeming to de-atomize and rejoin in a picosecond.
He picked up the pristine, glass encased device and ventured a gaze over to where it threw its tightly packaged needle. There, he divined the sight he was looking for. It looked as though the troops were ready - and a minute figure, most likely Elder, was leading them.
He sat down for a moment. He would enjoy this last hike. If all went well, it would be the final time he ever saw this sight again. This thought filled him with nostalgia, and for a moment, his eyes teared up, but he steeled himself.
The world would never be the same. And he would finally be at peace.
A massive blue portal erupted near the training ground. An ethereal wind reached the icy caps of the mountain, throwing his hair into disarray and causing some nearby pigs to scatter.
He took one of the beads, and threw it down the mountain.
~~~
Wither smelled something.
It was foul, odorous, and entirely out of order. It had been never so enraged as it had that moment.
Something had entered its domain uninvited. A great many somethings. And they were angry.
With a thought, Wither dominated the minds of its minions, observing the disturbance through the eyes of some nearby Ghasts. What it witnessed terrified it, changing its bravado to cold fear. It knew that the end of its time was at hand. The coven that had reinvigorated it had said as such, but it had never taken their words with substance. After all, it had turned them into indeterminate hash after its emergence. It never would have imagined they spoke the truth.
With a roar of outrage, its rallied his forces in the dark regions of its mind - the rivers boiled and became alive, massive worms of gelatin and fire clambering out of the deep rivers from where they slumbered. Skeletons, creepers, spiders, all formed ranks and attacked the shining host - large noses sticking out of bright helms, squidlike-entities being ridden by swine, and reformed priestesses throwing potion after potion into the living river of fire.
And at the head of this glittering galley stood his greatest, most tenacious and powerful enemy. And though it was impossible, Wither received the terrifying sensation that this mighty carbon was looking at him.
Wither soared up and onto the enormous tower, flanked by black skeletons. He needed to find something.
~~~
He entered the massive chamber, full of silver and gold. In the center was Wither, surrounded by his vanguard.
He slowly advanced down towards his goal.
Wither's unchanging expressions reflected no emotion; he simply twitched and the skeletons charged.
As he sliced through the vestiges of Wither's force, the latter coldly observed his progress, unblinking and akin to a cast figure. When he was finished, he lowered his sword. "What was your ultimate goal?" he asked.
Wither thought on that for a moment.
In a raspy voice, unheard since eons before, Wither uttered its last, solitary phrase. A sword flashed, and he was no more; only dust, to be shaken away by the wind. The ashes hissed and revealed a magnificent jewel - to be stomped flat, crushed under the iron boot of Steve.
A thundering roar swept the Nether core! Winds wrecked through the dark world and pockets of glowstone shattered. The glittering host was bowled over by the force of the change - the world was moving!
With a titanic CRASH, the vast throne room collapsed under its own weight. The stacks of gold and brick went flying through the air, and he slammed against one of the few remaining walls.
The world heaved, and settled.
~~~
He awoke to light, and the sound of rushing water. Dirt, earthly dirt, caked him. When he attempted to stand up, his felt the rod that had pierced his shoulders.
He collapsed, and looked up. What he saw pleased him greatly.
His task finished, he willed his body to fail. And Steve died, under the stars and sky.
_____________________________________
Wither gazed upon the vast, eerily silent expanse of its desolate domain. It spat fire at a passing slime, blowing it into dust. It had been sensing something - a pure presence, offensive to it that had been brewing above the fiery fjords which kept at bay the encroaching swine and the black towers that housed its legions of followers. Such a thing was foreign to it, as were many of the geographical aspects that had changed since its last disintegration. Wither had experienced this sort of vertigo before, but not in its sense of the world above. It only had a faint recollection of what Overworld had looked like when it had been revived there once before, during its twenty-second reemergence. Of course, it was bound to have changed by now, for it had been re-invigorated thousands of times since then, all in its natural environment. The one it loved best, of course, but the difference was so meager that it could have eaten it. This time, however, it felt a certain courageousness. An indescribable boldness that permeated every corner of its center head.
If it had been human, it might have described it as a migraine.
~~~
He had been cast through light, darkness and depths. He felt as though he was free-falling and then being dragged on solid ground. He was everywhere in the universe at once, at the same time fitting into the tiniest pinprick of a molecule.
It was a spinning sensation he felt. Drop, drag, grow, shrink, drop, drag, grow shrink, all in steady revolution around THE CENTER.
This falling and dragging grew faster and faster, cycling through and through these phases millions of times a second, trillions a minute. He spun through this cosmic clock on a rocket engine, speeding up and up, and he felt as he might explode from the outward force. The rotation reached a climax of terrifying magnitude, and, though he had come to this point many times before, he was scared that he might somehow de-materialize and be lost forever! But he fell down, down through the depths once more, slowing to a more reasonable speed to where he could breath, move and eventually stand. The darkness gave way to light.
He found his eyes, and opened them. A field again.
~~~
In slight terror, he had felt for the arrow shot through his chest, and to his relief, did not find it. Surrounded by a forest of stubby oaks, he trekked about a mile and a half to a mountain range he observed after climbing the branches of one of the taller trees. After climbing for what seemed like hours, he reached the snowy cap of the mountain he desired.
Inhaling the clean, bountiful mountain air, he burrowed deep into the earth using a makeshift pickaxe from a tree he had uprooted earlier. There he found his treasure; the compass he had buried here months ago for just such an occasion. Next to it was a stack of small organic beads. They shimmered in the light entering the hole, seeming to de-atomize and rejoin in a picosecond.
He picked up the pristine, glass encased device and ventured a gaze over to where it threw its tightly packaged needle. There, he divined the sight he was looking for. It looked as though the troops were ready - and a minute figure, most likely Elder, was leading them.
He sat down for a moment. He would enjoy this last hike. If all went well, it would be the final time he ever saw this sight again. This thought filled him with nostalgia, and for a moment, his eyes teared up, but he steeled himself.
The world would never be the same. And he would finally be at peace.
A massive blue portal erupted near the training ground. An ethereal wind reached the icy caps of the mountain, throwing his hair into disarray and causing some nearby pigs to scatter.
He took one of the beads, and threw it down the mountain.
~~~
Wither smelled something.
It was foul, odorous, and entirely out of order. It had been never so enraged as it had that moment.
Something had entered its domain uninvited. A great many somethings. And they were angry.
With a thought, Wither dominated the minds of its minions, observing the disturbance through the eyes of some nearby Ghasts. What it witnessed terrified it, changing its bravado to cold fear. It knew that the end of its time was at hand. The coven that had reinvigorated it had said as such, but it had never taken their words with substance. After all, it had turned them into indeterminate hash after its emergence. It never would have imagined they spoke the truth.
With a roar of outrage, its rallied his forces in the dark regions of its mind - the rivers boiled and became alive, massive worms of gelatin and fire clambering out of the deep rivers from where they slumbered. Skeletons, creepers, spiders, all formed ranks and attacked the shining host - large noses sticking out of bright helms, squidlike-entities being ridden by swine, and reformed priestesses throwing potion after potion into the living river of fire.
And at the head of this glittering galley stood his greatest, most tenacious and powerful enemy. And though it was impossible, Wither received the terrifying sensation that this mighty carbon was looking at him.
Wither soared up and onto the enormous tower, flanked by black skeletons. He needed to find something.
~~~
He entered the massive chamber, full of silver and gold. In the center was Wither, surrounded by his vanguard.
He slowly advanced down towards his goal.
Wither's unchanging expressions reflected no emotion; he simply twitched and the skeletons charged.
As he sliced through the vestiges of Wither's force, the latter coldly observed his progress, unblinking and akin to a cast figure. When he was finished, he lowered his sword. "What was your ultimate goal?" he asked.
Wither thought on that for a moment.
In a raspy voice, unheard since eons before, Wither uttered its last, solitary phrase. A sword flashed, and he was no more; only dust, to be shaken away by the wind. The ashes hissed and revealed a magnificent jewel - to be stomped flat, crushed under the iron boot of Steve.
A thundering roar swept the Nether core! Winds wrecked through the dark world and pockets of glowstone shattered. The glittering host was bowled over by the force of the change - the world was moving!
With a titanic CRASH, the vast throne room collapsed under its own weight. The stacks of gold and brick went flying through the air, and he slammed against one of the few remaining walls.
The world heaved, and settled.
~~~
He awoke to light, and the sound of rushing water. Dirt, earthly dirt, caked him. When he attempted to stand up, his felt the rod that had pierced his shoulders.
He collapsed, and looked up. What he saw pleased him greatly.
His task finished, he willed his body to fail. And Steve died, under the stars and sky.
| Tags |
tools/tracking
3315890
6
phantasma
ICanGamez
Ledud104
MistFaller
HeccFeesh
Escapazition
hotsuop
TraumfxngerTV
Demidiant_
IGEBM
PMC Evil Alts
DARKPEACH
CassandraStudios
Create an account or sign in to comment.