- 1,001 views, 3 today
169
Steve awoke, lying on the ground in the middle of the day. Nauseous, he tried to get his mind around what position he was in and what was there next to him: a note, and a pig giving him a curious look. Steve gathered his thoughts and focused on the note that was lying beside him. He leaned in and read it:
“Good luck.”
That was it.
Good luck.
Steve woke up in his middle-class home in his middle-class town, and changed into his middle-class clothing: a light blue t-shirt and jeans with a small rip on it. He brushed his teeth, put in contacts, said goodbye to wife and child, and went to the school he worked as a teacher at.
Every morning the thought of the town he was raised in that was destroyed popped into his mind. That was where Steve lost his parents. Strange beings invaded that town. As tall as the average human, the same bone structure, but didn’t understand the basics of human language. They took over the town and Steve’s parents. Finally, he cleared his mind of that ordeal.
The only teacher called by his first name (Steve, of course), he was a favorite among the students. The lesson he was teaching was about basic crafting. Steve found this particular unit as interesting as the students did, and created many unique lessons that allowed the children to create small, harmless versions of these creations. In his own time, he studied these crafts and admired those who created them. He didn’t know, but he was a candidate for something that would change his life undisputedly, though for better or worse was up to him.
After the school day, Steve went back home and greeted his child and their caretaker. The nanny, Rachel, greeted Steve and left once he got settled. Steve’s son, Danny was as interested as Steve was in crafts and how to create them with current technological advances and learning from the past. Danny was 5 years old, so he couldn’t help Steve too much with innovations or ideas. Nevertheless, he was ecstatic to learn more.
With most of his time devoted to science of crafting and creation, Steve grew sapient in the ways of it, and continued his diligence. He was engaged with a job he loved and a hobby he loved even more. He had a wife he loved, a child he loved. His life was humble and perfect. In the end, it was just too much to ask for.
Five years had passed, and it was announced that Steve was on “the list.” Nothing more, nothing less. It was just known as “the list.” Government officials refused to give out any more information other than those exact two words. Students were as worried about Steve as his family was. With what little knowledge everybody had on the subject, some dismissed it as nothing; others interpreted it as an execution.
Another 5 years passed, and it was announced who was chosen: Of course, it was Steve. Picked for a project of some kind, with no choice to accept or deny this announcement from the government. Some viewed it as the government’s way to show their power and announce monarchy—killing this “Steve.” Others viewed it as an honor to Steve, that he would be rewarded for whatever revolutionary thing he may be doing. In a way, they were both correct.
Steve was met by police officers who handcuffed him and asked him to follow. He did as he was told, and was taken to what was thought of as an abandoned facility. A mad looking scientist with unkempt hair approached him.
“We need your expertise on this project, Steve, you see… Your knowledge of creation is more or less unbelievable; in a misconception I might even interpret you as a god!” the scientist shouted.
“Thanks, I suppose…” Steve murmured.
“No need to be so modest! One of our employees, Rachel, has been taking notes on your behavior! She says she’s very impressed, and we have chosen you based off of the professionalism in Rachel this company knows and loves, and our belief in you!”
“What do you want from me?” Steve asked concisely.
“Short and to the point. I love it! Well, you’re here to be, ah, let’s say… tested! Yes, tested. Or re-created, rather, in the project we refer to as M.C.!”
“Re-created…?” Steve pondered. “What’s your name, by the way? You look familiar...”
“You can call me Notch! In the end, that won’t matter, but go ahead and follow me, please!”
Steve followed. “What do you mean, it won’t matter? You said you needed my ‘expertise.’”
“ Yes, yes, just step in here…”
Steve walked into a strange device. He felt the strangest thing in the world: becoming pixelated. He slowly saw the world around him disappear, and turn black. After a few hours, he woke up.
Good luck.
Presenting themselves to Steve were hordes of endless Endermen. What’s worse, there was a shadow gliding through the sky. If one of those things could fly… Steve knew one thing: he had to think of something. Think of something right now.
Steve woke up knowing one thing: He was not of this world. He never was. What was around him was blocky terrain, and he appeared to be lying on grass. The sun was bright in the sky, a simple, partially shaded yellow square. He decided on one thing: doing whatever he can to survive in this land.
He searched for anything that may prove useful to him, and found a note that said “Good luck.” Next to Steve was a pig, staring at him without blinking. Steve felt bad about what he would be forced to do, but knew it was for his own survival. Hesitantly, he attacked the pig. Once it was slain, its carcass simply disappeared, leaving very little food behind for Steve.
Once this happened, Steve knew that he would have to abide by whatever laws this new world forced upon him. Adaptation would be what guaranteed Steve’s survival.
With no idea what may happen as the day progresses, Steve decided it would be best to search for resources. He needed a shelter—who knows what horrors night might bestow? He decided it’d be better not to find out.
After five minutes of walking, he found himself wandering aimlessly in the plains. Nevertheless, he continued this endless search, eventually finding the forest he needed. The next challenge would be gathering the resources.
Seeing as Steve managed to get the pig’s food using his bare hands, he figured it wouldn’t hurt (too much) trying to harvest wood the same way.
Much to his relief, he triumphed. He got three trees’ worth of wood and decided to use the knowledge he somehow already had to craft a pickaxe and built a small house to temporarily use as shelter. With the finishing touches in place, Steve put a door for the entrance of his shack. He decided it would be best to sleep. To his revelation, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“Too much on my mind…” Steve thought. He decided to analyze the situation at night through the door. Steve saw horrific creatures, one impossible to even describe without sounding like a maniac.
With this traumatic experience, Steve confirmed that it is not safe outside at night. With his strange knowledge of creating tools, Steve decided to work as long as possible and survive as long as he can.
Steve made gradual progress every day, and found himself with iron armor and a full set of iron tools. He could attack these monsters he found from time to time without them posing any threat to him if he wasn’t reckless.
Day to day, a strange name hovered in Steve’s mind: Notch. He had no memory of who this was or whom they were related to, and yet, the name existed, distracting him.
The next morning, Steve woke up only to hear pounding on his door. He sprinted down the stairs. “Could it be another person?” he pondered. Just in case, he got his sword and armor on.
As he approached the door, he saw a zombie punching through his door. Astonished, Steve swiftly opened the door and dispatched the creature.
“How…?” Steve wondered. He began to put the pieces together: His enemies were adapting too. But, even though Steve had no clue, this whole thing was being controlled by that name wandering inside his head. Whatever he’s done, whether it be renowned ownership of this “test,” or given the monsters the ability to change… it was his doing.
Steve began to take precautions immediately. He created an iron door with a hidden lever connected by redstone to open his door. However these monsters will adapt, he would beat them.
The next day, Steve continued his daily schedule: creating scrutinizing complex systems to protect himself, and attacking hordes of mobs. Something was different—a zombie had acquired an iron sword. A skeleton had gold armor. Unsure of what to do, Steve made a break to his house where he was safe. “Armor and weapons, now…” Steve thought. “I guess I’ll have to work around that, as well…”
Almost fanatically, Steve created lava traps using pistons, went mining for finer material than iron (diamonds), and gradually became an unstoppable force. At times the mobs had valuable resources on them, so Steve made sure to have the items stored in a cycle of an automated hopper/chest system.
Eventually, Steve came across a strange item: An Eye of Ender. Held by Endermen, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to collect them. He threw one to see what it would do, and it flew behind him in a strangely specific direction. He followed it, picked it up, and threw it again. Steve decided whatever mystery these things held couldn’t wait.
Steve, with the finest of his diamond armor and weaponry, followed the Eyes of Ender. He made continual progress in the direction they seemed to want to point him in. Steve made it to the point that these objects told him to go underground. With no hesitance, he got out his pickaxe and dug.
After what seemed like hours of digging, Steve made it to some strange underground temple-like chain of rooms. Progressing through each room, he seemed to be presented with an assortment of challenges: whether it be defeating monsters or simply crossing a bridge without falling into lava, Steve completed it nevertheless.
The last room of the chain gave Steve an open frame. Small holes were visible on the outside of these frames. Putting the two pieces together, Steve placed 12 of his Eyes of Ender in these holes. A black material of void, or nothingness, consumed the opening. Without thinking, Steve jumped in.
Instantly, Steve was exposed to a problem: An endless horde of Endermen, all staring at him. Worst of all, a dark figure appeared to be flying overhead. Having to take this problem in at once, Steve figured one thing: He’ll have to figure out what to do. Right. Now.
Steve encased himself in a box of obsidian so the Endermen couldn’t reach him. Now, he could formulate a strategy. A strategy to deal with whatever was flying overhead, most likely the ringleader…
Strange cubes were at the top of a pillar of obsidian… fire beneath them, they seemed none the more friendly than the place he was in itself. Steve knew that they were, in some way, assisting the creature he was determined to defeat.
Taking out his bow, Steve took aim on the beacon nearest to him. He shot, and much to his delight, it was a direct hit. The beacon, which Steve presumed as an energy source for the monster, shattered and was rendered useless.
The flying creature took aim for Steve, and got close enough so he could reveal what it was: a void-like dragon. It looked as if anything it touched would be consumed in darkness. Defeating this thing became all the more appealing to Steve—as if he would escape this world if he did, or maybe gather information not known to him before… Whatever the reason, Steve took aim at the next beacon.
Another hit. The rest of the platforms were too far away and high up to aim at, so Steve repositioned himself. While encasing himself in a new box of obsidian, the dragon flew into Steve. The touch alone practically burned him—with whatever material that thing was made of and the power it brought during the impact… at the very least, it hurt. Unbearably so.
After the dragon’s attack, the hordes of Endermen attacked in complete unison—as if they were commanded to. Steve hurried the process of boxing himself in and narrowly escaped the death that approached him, only having to attack two Endermen out of the hundreds that surrounded him.
With Steve’s new position, he could aim at every energy source the dragon had available to it. Proceeding to shoot the first energy source in sight, Steve was disrupted due to having to dodge one of the dragon’s blows. Afterwards, Steve carefully took aim. He shot, and hit. The process continued itself until there were no more left.
The battle, in which Steve thought was over, turned to the next phase. Attacking the dragon itself was the new task… dodging, and attacking something that travel ten times faster than he. Steve inferred that the battle wasn’t over yet, and got out of his obsidian protection. He created walls throughout the land to seek shelter behind. These walls offered the possibility of hiding, dodging, and simply protection.
Steve knew what he would be forced to do next: attack the dragon. Though not head-on, it was dangerous nevertheless. With his bow ready, Steve aims at the dragon. With unpredictable flight paths, the dragon managed to dodge Steve’s arrows for around 30 seconds, and they seemed to be at a stalemate with each other. Steve took it upon himself to take the initiative.
Charging at the dragon, he drew his sword. The dragon flew at him—giving Steve milliseconds to react and dodge, yet it was done. Slashing the dragon’s side twice before it flew too far away. This process continued, but the dragon became too fast for Steve to hit with his sword efficiently enough. He would have to get the dragon with his bow and lead where the dragon would fly next.
Steve, after many feeble attempts, began to understand how to land his arrows on the dragon. Dodging when he got near, he immediately turned around and aimed—direct hit. The dragon froze, and time itself seemed to as well. It began dematerializing, until it vanished from existence. The Endermen were gone, too. A portal exposed itself to Steve. He hadn’t thought about jumping in, so Steve wasn’t going to be hesitating to jump what he thought of was out. Though he ignored it, that name popped into his head again… Notch…
“I like this player. It did not give up.”
Steve was a “program.” He was the “player.” Whatever world he thought this was, Steve’s beliefs altered and conflicted with each other as much as they could. His mind was telling him to believe what he heard, that he was a program and player, or to take it as nothing—there’s no way he could be in a game, one that decided life or death…
Conflicted, Steve wallowed in his recent experiences and walked home. When he arrived to his safe point, he saw something strange—something that he never created. It looked like a computer…
“Hello!” A giant face greeted Steve. “Congratulations! You have defeated what I think of as a final boss, but don’t think your time here is over.”
For whatever reason, Steve was sure that it wasn’t Notch… it was somebody else. He didn’t know who it was or why he knew, but that bit of knowledge was all he had, and by the looks of it, it’s all he’ll ever have.
“Who are you? What do you mean, final boss? If this were the case, surely I’d have beaten this “game” then, right?”
“Technically, yes, but there’s still so much to do! So much undiscovered. Maybe if you do everything then I’ll let you out…” The face seemed to mock him.
The computer disappeared, and as such, so did the face.
“Do everything…?” Steve mumbled. “At least it confirms it then… I’m in a game, struggling to survive…” Suddenly, a burst of knowledge was almost shoved into his head. How to make an “enderplasmic gun,” whatever that was. Emerald armor, tools, and one that struck him as odd: the computer.
Maybe he could talk to the face again if he created one…whatever it was, Steve would make it—he had to use any chance he could to leave this “game” he’d take it.
With basically every material at his disposal, Steve got to work creating the computer. Though the recipe was much more complicated than any other he’d created before, the time Steve spent here practically guaranteed that he could create anything he wanted. And so, he put the finishing touches on the computer.
The very same face greeted him—as large as ever. Smiling even more broadly, it brought it upon itself to begin the conversation.
“Hello, again. I see you’ve gotten your priorities set, creating this the same day that I talked to you already! Well, since you’ve gotten this far, I suppose you deserve some sort of knowledge on your situation. This isn’t exactly a “game,” or wasn’t originally, anyways. It was actually a test—to protect us from unknown invaders. What somebody with a creative mind such as yourself would do with every material at his or her disposal. We have secured our safety thanks to you.”
“Then why won’t you let me out…? If I’ve practically saved everybody’s life, shouldn’t that be enough?”
“Yes, I would. However, there was a… slight defect, not allowing us to transport you in and out of this world. Making you pixelated was hard enough, but at this point, we’d be making something from your typical video game come to the real world. In the end, it was impossible for us with our technology. Also, that name in your head—“
“Notch,” Steve interrupted bluntly. “I’ve still not been able to figure out who it is.”
“He’s the creator of this whole thing. After its great success and unbelievable effectiveness, he’s stopped contributing to this project. Now, I’m leading this. My name is Jeb. So, to the point: the only way to transport you out of this game is if you think of something with what we put in the “game.” As we create new inventions, we will add them to this game and hope that you can figure out how to get yourself out.”
“So with what’s in this virtual world, I need to create a way to reality?”
“In short, yes.”
“Wait, what was I protecting our race from?”
“Ever felt a particular hatred to those monsters, specifically zombies?”
“I have, and I put it upon myself to killing waves of them in my schedule.” This made Jeb’s before solemn face turn into a slight smile.
“Well, that confirms my suspicions. Your old town that you were raised in (in reality) was taken over by these beings—zombies. They’re what took your parents away from you at a young age. Subconsciously, I suppose you knew that and wanted revenge.”
“Well, in my spare time I can continue killing these heartless things… consciously now.”
“Anyway, making this into a game has served as our cover-up. We created this whole thing and eventually, it sold worldwide as one of the most widely played games that we know today. Not only does the money we earn from this help us get you out, but helps us protect ourselves to escape the fate your parents had to face.”
Without warning, Steve turned off the computer that he’d made. He knew that he’d have to get himself out, and he’d have to do it practically alone without any leads from the real world.
Still today, Steve struggles to get himself out of the world he was trapped in. With the heavy burden of knowledge, he continued experimenting, trying to get himself out.
Wow, that was long.
...Sorry.
On another note:
Trivia!
The game Steve originated in was called "Zombie Town," and that's the town that Steve was raised in that was taken over by "strange beings." Notch was the mayor of Zombie Town, or the creator of it. Steve not being able to sleep was because he didn’t have a bed, not because too much was on his mind. The adaptations of mobs are updates. Steve's light blue shirt/jeans represent his in game skin. The computer represents the community asking for changes, as Steve would for ways to get himself out. The updates in the "game" are actually Jeb giving Steve more items to work with to get out.
Any feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.
| Tags |
1 Update Logs
Steve's Present Added : by The Diamond Creeper 10/17/2014 9:23:35 amOct 17th, 2014
I added "Steve's Present," and am currently working on his future.
tools/tracking
3020054
6
the-test-contest-entry
![The Test [Over 3,500 Words!] [Contest Entry] Minecraft Blog](https://static.planetminecraft.com/files/resource_media/screenshot/1442/thetestthumbnail8231785_thumb.jpg)
![The Dream Realm [Minedeas] (Huge) [25th Place] Minecraft Blog](https://static.planetminecraft.com/files/resource_media/screenshot/1249/6t4UG_4334007_thumb.jpg)
hotsuop
Panda_Iceberg
foulodor
DARKPEACH
CassandraStudios
seventeenpointfour
MarecekD033
Create an account or sign in to comment.
I'm sorry to hear you're already out. :/