This is a story of terror, mines, darkness and... blocks?!

I am Steve. As you may know, I am made of cubes and cuboids. I dig all day, sleep all night. Anything I get in the mine is used to make gear and armour to help me survive. I will live like this for the rest of my life. I am basically digging forever. Swords and pickaxes and ores surround me. Mobs and stone and abandoned mines are most of my job. I can't believe I have to do this forever! But I feel something will change my life forever...

As I went to the mineshaft, I found an old relic of mine. My first ever iron pickaxe. 15 years ago,  I found a huge pile of iron ore, and I smelted it. It was stolen, but 3 iron was left by the perpetrator. I made it into my first iron pickaxe, and pretty much mined with it until it had 1 durability, and then I chucked it into some lava. The charred pickaxe was still in one piece, and I used my iron and my anvil to make it have full durability, and then I grabbed my sword, my armour and headed off to the mine, until I fell into a pit on the way. At this point I had landed in water, so I didn't take any damage. "phew, I'm not dead! I hope I can escape. At least I brought torches." I said, sure no-one heard me.