youtube.com/watch?v=OuYA_siR8Hc&list=PLefKpFQ8Pvy5aCLAGHD8Zmzsdljos-t2l&index=65 - Stand Tall by Lena Raine
A.J.'s appearance (focus on the head)- minecraftskins.com/skin/16353573/fire-gaming-boi-edited/
The story begins just south of the town of Fredonia in the republic of Vaniel in mid-May. A large expanse of oak forest separates a plot of land and the town of around 1,000 people. In the center of a plot is a mixed-wood cabin, which has experienced some structural issues as of late, with a small shed in the back, as well as a creek to its north. A gravel path cuts straight through the forest, close to the property. Vaniel has remained a democratic republic in the world of Minecraft for nearly 100 years, and has been a prosperous, thriving country for a majority of that time.
The Stevens family has lived to see half of the country's existence, though they have lived relatively secluded lives. Jeff and Sara Stevens, married for 17 years, have raised Alex Jay Stevens, simply referred to as A.J. They have raised him in spite of many conflicts between each other, particularly on how he should be raised. Jeff trained his son A.J. in outdoor skills such as fighting, telling him legends of old, such as when cryptid animals called "Mobs" emerged on the world and caused havoc. A.J. also learned outdoor skills in order to survive by himself in many different conditions.
In spite of this, his mother Sara never hesitated to hit and yell at him for even the smallest mistakes. A.J. grew up hearing arguments upon arguments, surprised the house even physically remained together. He has bright, blond hair, jet blue eyes, and pale skin. He often wears leather boots over his typical shoes and a variety of dark colored hoodies, finishing off with his tan backpack and dark black belt with which he holds dearly his most important items on any trip. Because of his training, he has grown up to develop broad shoulders and an overall strong figure; he has also grown to around 6 feet tall. Despite this, his arms are loaded with scars and bruises from over the years that have refused to disappear from under his skin. He often hides his feelings and overthinks about even small decisions. When he does act, though, he makes rational decisions under his own terms. His curiousity always seems to progress him forward well.
His school friends, including 18 year-old Jake Selve, have often been concerned for his mental and physical health. Every time someone mentions their worries, however, he shrugs it off, saying, "Meh, I'm fine. These scars and bruises are my reality." The reality is, however, that A.J. has planned an escape for a year, never coming up with a solid solution by himself; ever since his father left for good around a year ago, his mother had become even more strict and aggressive against him, to the point where he didn't have the whole evening to free time like he was used to. It became more difficult to take a moment and devise a plan- eventually, it seemed to him that he would have to take a few essentials and book it in a swift, stealthy manner when everyone in his circle least expected it. He had no idea where to go, but from all his learning, including long hikes, he had internalized a large section of his home country's massive network of roads, tunnels, bridges, and minecart-ways.
It scares him to think he might not see his friends, who were like siblings to him, or any other townspeople ever again.
But he has to. After all, he is not forced to stay at the small cabin forever. In his mind, not even his own mother can stop him.
⭐
A.J. dashes down the gravel trail, never looking back. For him, it is out with the old and in with the new, even if it initially hurts emotionally. And it genuinely does. He may never see his friends, family, and townspeople again. All he has with him is his pack and belt with some food, a couple of books, a sword, and a water bottle. It is May 19th, and the sun beams down strongly, its rays struggling down through the canopy of oak trees above. The trees are as still as statues, and no signs of rain present themselves. No matter what, he wants to get as many blocks away as possible from home. The trail continues north through seemingly never-ending foliage of oak and dark oak.
After a few thousand blocks, his knees are beginning to nag at him with pain, and he forces himself to stop. He stretches his arms down to his knees, taking a few deep breaths. He takes in his surroundings, observing even the smallest details like the leaves on the trees. At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Just a boring, old forest with a trail leading... somewhere. That is the only question that matters to A.J. at this moment. He hasn't figured out where the trail even goes to. He can only see so far forward before the gravel seems to disappear down a hill-
Wait a second, I am on a hill...A.J. thinks, still panting for air. There must be something down there. He stands up straight again, despite the tension he now feels in his shoulders and back. He didn't even have time to properly stretch like he normally did for cross-country trips. He took some steps forward slowly, making sure not to exert himself any further; he doesn't see the cabin behind him anymore, so he knows he is far enough away from people's eyesight. He just hopes he can find somewhere to camp out for the night and fulfill his hunger, which will certainly be bothering his already gassed body soon.
A few more steps, and then a few more steps. Then, his left knee gives out on him. He drops down face-first onto a few large rocks. The right side of his face scrapes against the ground. A.J. is now in immense pain, and what's worse is the fact that he doesn't feel like moving any further. "Aagh," he groaned through clenched teeth. Drops of maroon blood began falling onto the rocks and mixing with the sweat already drenching his face. "Thi- isn- good..." He also managed to get out.
He tilts his head and stares to his left side, thinking of a next move while taking in the tree trunks in the distance. But what if there wasn't a way? Did he really just screw up his knees just by trying to escape? Was this some sort of warning sign for him from the heavens? No, he thought. There must be a way. It's only my left knee. I should be able to move everything else and crawl up against a tree.
He starts to move his left leg, yet it instantly surges with pain. He stops, screaming out uncontrollably. This was going to be a long day if he could even make it out standing.
⭐
Day seems to quickly turn into night, and A.J. has not made much progress. He managed to slide himself off of the path and to the side where he now leans against a tree, his bag off to his right. He feels like it will be all over for him at any moment. His whole body feels brittle like some sort of skeleton, and his only water source was depleted. "Strike me creeper..." he mumbles. A.J. has never believed in the legends he had been told by many, even his school teachers, and yet he doesn't know what else to do or say at the moment.
He was surprised to realize no one had come after him at this point. "Does nobody realize I'm gone!?" A.J. shouted to no one in particular, "This is ridiculous. I am killing myself out here!" Not even Jake, his closest friend, had shown himself in his vicinity. Does no one even care? Is there some curse on the path preventing people from seeing what lies ahead? The amount of questions concerned him, and yet A.J. had nowhere to go and nothing to do. If someone or something were to attack him, he wouldn't be able to defend himself sufficiently, especially not with a half-functioning leg.
Out of the blue, he hears what seems to be explosions coming from the direction of the path that he was running down before becoming exhausted. The sounds get louder and louder. His ears pop and ring as some sort of shock-wave hits him. Both his eyes see a bright, blinding light before everything turns black.
⚔
Meanwhile, in the Nether...
Fires burn, Lava boils, and more and more Blazes get summoned: the Nether, a vast expanse of darkness that at the same time is lit up with a tantalizing amount of light. In relation to the Overworld, it can be described as a polar opposite of it, or even that they go hand-in-hand; it is up to the individual to decide. Fortresses and bastions cover the dimension sporadically, each formed with the sinewy hands and, arguably, intelligent minds of the Piglins. Warped Forests stand out with their blue color in the midst of Crimson red netherrack. Additionally, some have claimed that it contains the strongest of materials, such as "Netherite", which can be used for any kind of tool or armor.
For many generations, the Nether has been downplayed as a legend or a silly fairytale. Since no one seems to know how to get there or if going there would be worth it, no one has ever made a legitimate attempt to research it. This has made any and all the activity of the world a secret to outsiders. However, evil roams the entire land, plotting and planning to somehow strike the seemingly innocent Overworld in the future. At least, it appears that way when compared to the Nether. The Mobs have used it as a home base for years to store important items, and now the villain Herobrine resides there as a sort of dictator over the whole place, controlling all who are involved.
At this moment, everything is going as planned. The necessary armies to make a powerful attack on the first target are taking shape. However, something is missing- portals to transport everyone into the correct place. Because of how unfathomably large the Nether is, forming a way for all the monsters, with much less magical powers compared to their leaders, to access another large world is inconceivable. As a result, Herobrine is only getting angrier by the second. This anger leads to him randomly "twitching" and slamming into some of his own armies, destroying them almost on command. For ordinary people in the Overworld, this type of power is not considered good or worthwhile for the long term; in fact, many writings have depicted this Herobrine figure actually being real, but the writings have either been banned by principalities altogether or have been shoved into shelves in the deepest, dustiest halls of libraries.
"GIVE. ME. MORE!" he booms, his extremely deep, robotic voice bouncing off the ceilings of the Nether. Even his voice can be enough to paralyze mobs! So the mobs work harder and harder, ultimately expecting their demise even though most have had a brief existence. Even the Wither and its explosive power, which has just started wreaking havoc on Vaniel, is not enough for the plans of Herobrine. He wants to destroy, vaporize, tear down until there is nothing left.
How are the inhabitants of the Overworld supposed to defend against this wide attack?! No one really knows or will know until the extent of the fight is revealed. Only time will tell.
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