"I'm not leaving him there!"

The Nether castle was empty. The servants had fled, even the most iron will of them. They had been told to, and they barely needed to be told twice. When their King was in this mood, only one person could talk him down.

"My Lord, you will only frighten him."

The room was trashed. It was a sitting room, once. But it had the misfortune of being the room Herobrine was in when he received word of the latest happenings in the Hermitcraft server. What was meant to be a safe place had turned dark and dangerous, and he was furious. The coffee table was in splinters, the stone in the fireplace had been knocked from the wall, and one loveseat was torn in two while another was half out the window, singed by fire. Two figures stood in the room, one being Herobrine who had his back to the other figure. He was breathing deeply, but it did little to combat his rage. He only got more and more pissed. The words hadn't made him feel better, in fact, it only pissed him off even more because he knew they were the truth.

"I'll frighten that whole damn server!" He roared. The roots of the Nether trembled. "He was meant to be safe there! Away from the loneliness, away from that armor stand freak!" He grabbed a bottle and hurled it across the room. It flew past the other person's face, inches from their cheek, though they barely even faltered. They watched Herobrine as he continued in his rage, snarling things in English and what they could consider verbal End Script. Their dark puppy brown eyes were sad but firm, unrelenting even when facing a powerful would-be God.

"My lord," they whispered, but Herobrine was so far gone he practically wasn't there. He could hear them, dimly, but he couldn't place their voice to a face. They sounded familiar, but not enough to give him a name. He knew he should calm down. He was fizzing in and out like the glitch he was. That hadn't happened in a long time. It was a painful experience, but he was too furious to even notice the pain. The other person watched for a few more moments before they took in a deep breath and finally crossed the room. Their boots were iron-plated, and with every step, they clicked against the netherbrick floor. They stopped in front of Herobrine and grabbed him by the arm, throwing all caution to the wind. Almost immediately Herobrine was grounded and his calloused hand wrapped tightly around their wrist, threatening to snap the bone with his grip, but they didn't falter. Not for even a moment. Not even when Herobrine looked at them with his blazing white eyes and was finally back (just a little) to see who they were. It was a man. He had chestnut brown hair, bangs pushed out of his face by a white, metal made crown. He was lean and wore long purple robes that reached the floors. He seemed unbothered by the blistering heat of the Nether. His hood, often up, was down at the moment. He had armored shoulder pads over his robes and thin strips of metal were wrapped around his waist, with a red sash tied around his waist to dangle over it and obscure from view. A medallion hung from his neck, with golden beads strung along the chain, leading up to the black disk of metal. Printed on the circle was a creeper's face. At the sight of his familiar face, something in Herobrine calmed, just a bit. It was hard not to. Seto Sorcerer was important to him, and he hated it when he saw him like this.

"Let them ban him." Herobrine's eyes widened, and they glowed brighter.

"What?" He snarled.

"I said, let them ban him." Seto stared up into Herobrine's eyes. It caused quite the crick in his neck. Herobrine was at least an entire head taller than him, and Seto wasn't a short person. "If they do that, then they can't go to him. They can't hurt him anymore, Herobrine." He laid his other hand over Herobrine's, squeezing it the best he could with his angle. "And when he is in that world, transport me there. Allow me to help him, to comfort him. We can make a wonderful Kingdom, a world where all of your favorites can come and live happily and safely. If he wishes to, of course." Herobrine was calming down. The temperature in the room was no longer unbearable, and the glow in his eyes had dimmed significantly. He listened to Seto's smooth and calm voice as he took a slow and deep breath before he fixated on the sorcerer once more. He had been his pupil once, and now he was his greatest ally and his most powerful follower. He didn't flinch from him. He wasn't scared of him. Not like most. He supposed it could stem from how they met, and the years they had spent fighting and working alongside each other.

"You're right." He released Seto's wrist and cringed as he saw the bruise he had left behind. He reached towards it but Seto pushed his hand down firmly and pressed his own against it. With a shimmer of purple, it was gone as if it had never been there. His friend had burned enough energy from his near meltdown. He didn't want to risk him collapsing over a simple bruise. "You're right," He repeated, rubbing at his eyes. "It's rare when you aren't." Seto chuckled as the tension in his shoulders vanished. Herobrine was back now. It had been rough, as it always was, but it hadn't been impossible. It never was for him.

"You flatter me." Herobrine shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath, in and out, counted to five between each one until the fire in his chest didn't burn so badly.

"We will do as you suggested." He was still before he suddenly opened his eyes and frowned deeply. "And we'll do it now."

"Now? You wish for me to be there before him?"
"No. They've just banned him."