Whoosh—a sudden gust of wind brushes past his ear, stirring the fine hairs on his neck. His eyes flutter open, squinting against the piercing brilliance of the sun. Its golden rays beat down on his skin, hot and relentless. Above, the sky is a flawless canvas of blue, so calm it almost mocks the chaos lingering in the air.
It should've been a perfect day—if only it weren't tainted by what had come before.
"Ugh, that so-called god… what a pathetic excuse for one!" His voice trembles with anger, teeth clench with fists squeezed tightly, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar landscape.
To the right, tall green grass sways gently in the breeze, its blades still glistening with the remnants of a recent rain. To the left, a lake stretches out, its calm waters sprawling far beyond the edge of his vision, endless and quiet.
"I think I'm still waking up. I can't see that far… no way, this can't be real! That has to be a dream! Yeah, I'm just dreaming."
A sudden slap echoes. There's a quick wince—half from the sting, half from confusion.
"Shit… what the hell is this place?" His voice shakes, a mix of frustration and disbelief, as he looks around, unable to make sense of his surroundings. His eyes dart wildly, trying to piece together what's real and what's a trick of the mind. He takes a hesitant step forward, then freezes—every muscle tense, as if the world itself is playing some cruel joke on him.
Fuse~—a sharp, crackling sound pierces the air before Zoe is suddenly hurled into an abyss of darkness. Panic surges through their chest as the water envelops them, cold and suffocating, dragging them down deeper and deeper. Their lungs burn, desperate for air.
No! I can't die like this!
In a frantic, last-ditch effort, Zoe claws at the walls of the abyss, their fingernails scraping against dirt and stone, the raw pain of each broken nail adding to their desperation. With every ounce of strength, they finally tear themselves free from the water, gasping for air, their body trembling, drenched in cold sweat. But just as they take a breath, a searing, burning pain erupts in their chest, making everything spin.
"Why *wrench* ugh, me?" Zoe spits out, voice laced with pain as the burn deepens. "I did nothing but beat you at a fucking game of Bedwars, you petty god."
A young adult male with black hair and blue eyes sits at his desk, clicking the mouse rapidly. The rhythmic sound of his typing fills the room, each click more aggressive than the last. Then, a triumphant yell breaks through.
"Haha, you dumbass! Get better at the game."
The typing resumes, even faster now, his fingers flying across the keys.
"I always win."
?: "You call that shit skill?"
"Better than you, at least."
?: "So, you're better at games than me?"
"Yeah, I could beat you anytime, any game mode. This game's so easy, but you just suck."
?: "Heh, easy, you say? Then let's go a few rounds, should we?"
"Against a loser like you? I'll win every time." (Weird ass)
They go back and forth in various games—Spleef, Bedwars, 1v1—Zoe winning with ease, every single time.
"Like I said, this game is easy. You suck, by the way."
?: "Easy, you say? Then how about trying it for real?"
"What the hel—"
Suddenly, his entire body tenses, a sharp pull surging through him as if the very air around him has turned to stone. His hands jerk from the mouse, and the room blurs. A strange, magnetic force drags him toward the screen—his vision distorts, and the screen seems to stretch.
His heart races, panic clawing at his chest, as the edges of the room dissolve. The desk, the chair, the walls—all vanish into nothingness.
In a split second, the world around him shatters into darkness. His body is weightless, suspended in an endless void, with only the echo of his own breath filling the silence.
Then, everything goes pitch black.
*Cough**Cough*
"what's… happening to me?"
With unsteady, wobbled steps, he staggers away from the smoking crater left by the creeper's explosion.
He barely manages a few desperate strides before collapsing to one knee, gasping for breath. A few minutes pass before Zoe regains his bearings. His vision straightens as he glances down, the shock settling in.
His arm—burnt to the bone—twitches involuntarily, pain radiating through every nerve.
A lesser burn marks his chest, the skin blistered and raw beneath torn fabric.
He grits his teeth, forcing himself to stay conscious.
*Cough* *Cough*
"Fuck you, piece of shit god," he spits, voice hoarse and ragged.
Determination can be seen in his eyes—to survive, to kill anything in his way, to… go back home again.
Pushing forward, he trudges through the tall grass—only to find more grass beyond that.
Seconds turn into minutes. Minutes stretch into hours.
He stops now and then to rest, sitting down to catch his breath, then forcing himself back up.
*Cough* "This grass never ends."
At last, he stumbles out of the endless green wall… Only to see more green.
Rolling hills, thick with grass, swell across the landscape like waves frozen in time.
Beyond them, the grass grows shorter, more spread out—patches breaking up the sea of green as it stretches into the distance, as far as his limited vision allows.
No trees. No structures. Just hills, grass, and the quiet hum of wind.
"I fucking hate Minecraft now." wrench
"Huh? It hurts less, why?"
Looking down at his arm, he sees new skin—faintly pink and tender—already covering where bone had once shown. His chest, too, looks almost healed, the burn fading into scar tissue.
His mind stops for a moment.
"How the hell is this happening?"
An answer came to him, slow and dawning. Not only was he transported into the world of Minecraft…
But there were elements of the player in him, too.
Suddenly, like a spark of hope, the idea struck him.
"Inventory!" Nothing happens.
"Crafting Menu!" Still nothing.
After a few more desperate tries, shouting anything he can think of, his final attempt gives a flicker of hope to survive.
"Status!"
A brown, dirty-looking screen flickers into existence. His heart leaps—hope stirring inside him.
But the next second, despair floods him as he sees what's displayed:
A jumble of unreadable text, some kind of status bar, and…
Nothing useful.
|ᓭℸ ̣ ᔑℸ ̣ ⚍ᓭ|
"What the fuck is this shit! I can't even understand any of this."
He slams his fist against the ground in anger, eyes blazing with frustration.
"Why can't I just be in Creative? No! Even Survival would be better! I'm not even in Hardcore, but some shit called Very Hardcore Mode."
He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Sounds like something a low IQ child would make on his first mod."
*Growl~*
"Oh, right. That's how it worked."
"Well… even in real life, I need food and water. Probably the same here." Sigh
He keeps moving, pushing through the grass as it grows shorter with every step. Hills rise and fall ahead, each one a little different in size and shape.
Eventually, he glances back.
The land behind him—gone.
No path. No crater. No sign of where he came from.
Nothing but… nothing.
"Right, it was called… what? View distance. Fuck."
After a few more dragging steps, he stops at the top of a hill.
He looks out at what can barely even be called the distance—just a haze of more grass and sky.
With a slow exhale, he sits down, trying to piece together his next move.
*Huff * *Huff*
"That was tiring. Never knew the body could just… keep moving without rest."
Breathing heavy, regret creeps in. Hours of walking. Barely any rest.
"What's done is… *yawn* done. Had to—" *flop*
He falls back, the weight of exhaustion pinning him to the ground.
Sleep takes him just as the sun slips beneath a cut-off hill,
signifying One Day barely survived.