(Illustrations don't belong to me)

"Ah, what a funny dream that was, a stranger named Tom, breaking into my house to tell me fairy tales and thrust a sphere of light into me that made me unable to speak... I should probably become an author."

Steve murmured to himself while milking the cows. He had decided, right when the anonymous Tom departed from his house, to completely ignore the presence of any kind of incidents like that in his own home, and blame everything he had seen, or heard, on nightmares and hallucinations created by the continuous assassination of his chickens by their own master. Indeed, from the way he held casual, sociable conversations with villagers on their way to the market in the centre of the village, no one could have guessed Steve had just witnessed someone disapparating before his very square Minecraft eyes.

Nevertheless, despite disacknowledging its existence, the episode surely had made quite an impact on Steve. In the daylight, he became much more polite and quiet (as if he was trying to prove that the beacon beam, if there was any at all, hadn't, didn't, and wouldn't have any effect on his mood, nor his behaviour). When night fell, however, he struggled to sleep. His sound Minecraft sleep of 10 seconds lasted longer now, with vivid images of Steve himself, standing near the beacon light, holding his hand out as a sphere of blue light glistered within his hand, before joining others to merge into the beacon. But instead of victory cheers, he heard a shriek, distant cry - then everything shattered to dust, leaving a now awaken Steve trembling in fear, sweating all over. And this wasn't merely a nightmare - everyday, as soon as Steve lied down his yellow bed, he saw the same thing, the same vision, and he woke up, as usual, sweating all over his mattress.

***

One month later, Steve still recalled that nightmare in sheer (but private) terror. Fortunately, he hadn't had those vivid images of the shattering of the beacon for about a week or so. Unfortunately, the reason behind that was because he had not been able to lie down, tired as he was, for a week or so. And that was because of the conflict which flared up at the centre of the Minecraft Realm, supposedly where the beacon beam had once been.

"Coincidentally same as my dream - yup, exactly and entirely coincidental," Steve thought to himself. 

Anyhow, before Steve could even fully recover from the disastrous visit (or hallucinations, as he always referred to when talking to his sheep) of the stranger named Tom, the conflict turned into a total free-for-all war, with Steve waking up one morning, finding his house almost collapsed and the villagers outside screaming "Hmmmm" ("Bloody murder!"). 

And thus, there he was, lying at a grass patch just outside a ruined Mineshaft that he used as his temporary shelter, unable to sleep for fear of TNT explosions and fire charges. Even when he thought of the fiasco that was his Minecraft Realm, an arrow of poison flew through the air, leaving behind a thin trace of eerie green and landed exactly where his head had been one second before. It was time to get inside the cave.

He knew he couldn't delay his quest any longer - put simply, he couldn't invent any more reasons for not coming to the centre of the Realm, to fix that light thing. Thanks (!) to the war spreading like wildfire throughout the lands, Steve's life was turned upside down. His house had collapsed, his pastures and animals had become merely white bones, the villagers occupying the houses nearby were now probably some dust wandering in the misty night air. The peace of his entire life was swept away, leaving behind a Steve trapped in bewilderment - for it all happened so fast - in absolute despair, in homelessness and unbearable hunger. Now was the time to make the trip to the centre.

At last, Steve decided to go and seek Tom - that stranger. Nevertheless, he waited for several more days and the collapse of the cave he took shelter in to pack his inventory (at that time, was filled with junks - useless poppies and cornflowers and lilies he stumbled upon along the way) and set off.

Needless to say, his journey was quite perilous. The journey to the centre of the Minecraft Realm was tiring and dangerous on its own, having to cross various terrains like the treacherous badlands plateau and snowy mountains, and even cold oceans in the South-East, interfering with his path. On top of that, Steve certainly wasn't built to be a courageous adventurer. Having spent such a large part of his life occupied by the needs of his barn animals, his legs hadn't been quite properly trained for continuously long distance, his stomach groaned under the torment of hunger for days on end, his mind merely collapsed under the stress of war raging around him as he went, of the now increasingly more lethal weapon people used against each other (shooting fireworks from crossbows could prove to be quite fatal). 

Thus, it was days, even weeks of depression and anxiety before the burnt map Steve held in his tiring hands displayed himself as an arrow, now located in an area marked "Centre". Needless to say, the scenery laid before his eyes, once Steve had got to the final destination, didn't put him in anything that could be described as an easy mood.

It was truly a disastrous catastrophe: what used to be modern skyscrapers and flat concrete streets bustling with pedestrians going their whereabouts had been smothered down to mere dust, wild vegetations had already grown over the fallen houses, vines crept up the remains of build-limit towers - the whole area was inhabited by Minecrafters no more, but had instead been home to undead mobs like zombies, skeletons, creepers, and occasionally an enderman finding a shelter from the pouring rain. And worst of all, the whole island, the central spawn point of the whole Realm, was filled with a deathly silence - the shriek cries and explosions of the war were trapped outside its border, leaving the streets, and the atmosphere around Steve still, as cold and hard as his custard pudding. His throat seemed to be stunned with the Silence spell from Tom once more. 

And thus, it was several minutes' worth of absolute silence before Steve called into the air:

"Tom! I'm here! It's Steve!"

Something answered him. It wasn't Tom apparating. It was another sphere of yellow light, this time dreamily floating towards a standing-still Steve, not in shock and terror, but in gratitude and relief, recognising an old friend (yet?). Before long, the orb merged into Steve's chest. It suddenly made him feel extremely sleepy. "Maybe just doze off for a sec," he thought, before closing his eyes and lying on the soft, grass-covered ground.

It came as no surprise that when Steve woke up, seemingly seconds later, he wasn't lying on the ground anymore. He was at a quite comfortable white bed, gazing at a familiar face. Tom.

"Hello, Steve. We have been expecting you. Welcome to the Residence."