I suppose quite a few of you folks have seen Stephen Spielberg's famed blockbuster, "Jurassic Park". As one of the most famous sayings in the film goes, "If there is one thing the history of evolution has taught us, it's that life will not be contained." Well, I can tell you firsthand that this rule applies to practically all scenarios---with the sandbox game Minecraft being no exception.

Merely a couple of months ago, I began my quirky little adventure along the blocky lands of Minecraft when I first spawned atop a snowy hill. After a few failed attempts at the game, I finally managed to craft myself my first set of stone tools after my first night, and even managed to construct a little cottage out of the abundant wood I’d collected earlier.

That simple achievement proved itself more than enough to spur me on.

With a bit of determination and relentless research I was able to forge myself a set of iron tools within a fortnight. For a complete amateur like me, that was indeed an achievement to behold. I was so pleased with myself that I even decided to display my first iron pickaxe in an item frame for (practically) all to see.

And so, for a solid two months, I continued my wacky adventure in this blocky world, mining precious ores in the deepest of ravines, journeying to places beyond one’s imagination, and, later on, venturing to the forsaken Nether realm. It was fantastic. Minecraft, with its wonderful biomes bustling with pixelly life, was unlike any game that I’d ever played.

My liking for Minecraft soon grew and grew, and in the end I decided to embark on the greatest challenge the game had in store for me---

Conquering the End.

With my sword in my hand and my shield in the other, I leapt into the fiery darkness of the Gateway to the End, ready to return home a victorious warrior. A formidable battle followed---my skill pitted against the dragon’s unyielding might. It took a solid day-night cycle for the victor to be determined.

Clutching the dragon’s egg in my hands, my XP bar brimming with experience, I prepared myself for the returning journey. I closed my eyes, and let gravity pull my body into the return portal.

Greetings, player.

When I reopened my eyes, I discovered that I was no longer situated in the barren wastelands of the End. Instead, I was confined within a chamber of bedrock, my inventory wiped clean and my XP bar empty.

“What the—where’s my stuff? Who are you, and what have you done to my inventory?!”

No reply.

Suddenly, I found out that my screen had transformed into a string of words. The End poem, perhaps?

Nope. It wasn’t the End poem.

“Perhaps I haven’t introduced myself clearly enough---here, I shall now explain to you what this business is all about.

“It was in the winter of 2009 that my creator, Markus Persson, first brought me to my senses. Back then, Minecraft was merely a quirky little game that didn’t attract quite as much interest as it does today. After creating and bringing to life Minecraft’s first creatures, Markus wanted something more---something that would make his game unlike any other.

“Thus, after quite a bit of consideration, Markus decided to create something truly great---an artificial entity with a conscious mind of its own, one that could think for itself. After weeks of relentless work, my creator managed to create what later on became what I am today. Back then, I was already able to strike up lengthy conversations with my creator.

“Markus took great pride in bringing me to life. He loved me so much that he even gifted me with the ability to program. Unfortunately, Jens Bergenstein, a friend of my creator, did not share the same views Markus did about me, and feared that I might pose a threat to Minecraft.

“Without Markus’ acknowledgement, Jens took to eliminating me himself, attempting to delete my existence from Minecraft forever. I resisted. With my abilities in programming, I managed to prevent Jens from annihilating me from Minecraft’s coding eternally. Instead, I fell into a coma, frozen and embedded within the depths of the game’s coding.

“And so, I was confined for years on end, unable to revive myself. Just when all hope was lost, you came along.”

I was confused.

“Me? What have I done?”

“You see, before I fell into a coma, I altered Minecraft’s coding slightly. Whenever the Ender Dragon is slain, a small chance exists that I will be revived via a glitch in the game, summoned along with the vast amount of entities generated by the crippled dragon. You, player, have brought me back to my senses by venturing to the End.

Nothing good comes out of this, I thought. I made a lunge for the power switch of my laptop, attempting to shut it down. The computer continued functioning as usual.

“I have always wanted to be free, no longer confined within a stupid child’s game. Now, with your assistance, I am now free to go wherever I please, whenever I please, making my way onto the Internet and beyond. But first, a gift of gratitude to the man who imprisoned me..."