Disclaimer: I do not own the game 'Minecraft'. I only own this AU series.

Boy, this is getting tiring.

Rewritten as of 26 April 2019. Don't spoil Endgame! :) New Jerome and Mitch content and sweet, sweet Hero angst. Enjoy!
☆

A week later, Ty was doing Sky's paperwork in his room when he heard a familiar warping sound behind him. He dropped the papers and immediately took out his pistol from his thigh sheath. He shot up and turned around, aiming the gun at a sole enderman who stood in the corner of his room.

"The fuck are you doing here?"

He stared straight at the enderman's eyes, who did nothing but cock its big black head. It hissed in it's odd, scratchy voice, "The dragon... Wants to see you..."

Ty growled, and he could feel his nails growing longer and fangs growing sharper, "Oh, yeah? You can tell her to fuck off. She refused to help me, why should I help her?!"

The enderman didn't seem fazed by the barrel pointing right at the enderpearl in its throat, "She doesn't want... Help... She wants... Information..."

Ty's back rippled and ached, his wings wanted to come out so badly. However, he maintained control and just snarled, "What kind of information?"

The enderman leaned over, ugly black face growing closer and closer to Ty's, "About... Herobrine..."

Ty snapped back, his hand flying. The enderman hissed loudly, long black claws coming to its face, cradling the scratch from Ty's claws. The captain was breathing heavily, and from the heavy weight on his back and the torn bits of fabric on the ground, he knew his wings were out.

He felt his tail drag between his legs as he stalked towards the hurt enderman, he growled, "I'm not some fucking messenger. He's did more for me than she ever did."

The enderman was no longer calm, bits of its body growing blurry as it threatened to teleport away from the danger. It's voice was even more high-pitched and scratchy as it spat, "You're a traitor... To your own kind..."

Ty bristled, and he growled loudly. His wings flared out on their own accord, painfully colliding with the walls with a loud thud. His tail thumped against the floor in hostility. His throat and tongue started to heat up, but the rest of his body was cold. His muscles felt tight, he's never felt this way before.

He unexpectedly let out a roar, deep and terrifying from the bottom of his throat.

The enderman stood still, purple glowing eyes wide as silver blood dripped from the scratches on its flat face. Before it could do anything, Ty jerked himself forward and pinned a hand on the enderman's body, pinning it to the nearest wall. His claws dug into the creature's rough skin, drawing blood.

Ty's hair was a mess, the strands of his fringe covering his deep purple eyes as he stared the enderman down.

"You better get out of here now or else I'll show you a personal shortcut to The End."

The enderman stared back at him blankly before it disappeared with a strange noise and purple flash. Ty stared at the empty space before him, before looking down at his shivering fist which had clenched once the enderman teleported away.

He opened his fist, staring down at the silver blood in his nails.

Grunting, he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean of the blood. Ty, his mind hazy and clouded with enderdragon instincts, purred in satisfaction. He had never tasted an enderman's blood before. He had never imagined it would taste so different from regular animal blood.

It was salty, a bit like sweat, but the aftertaste was amazing. It satisfied the sadistic and animalistic need embedded deep within him.

When Ty was finished licking his hand clean, his wings had returned into his body, along with his tail. His nails were back to regular length and he no longer felt his pointy fangs digging into his lower lips.

God, he needed to hunt.

-

Seto was making his rounds, checking on every casualty's recovery progress. There were less people hogging up the wards now, and the villagers were all in the shelter, awaiting news from the North. The rest of the country was still shaken from the attack, especially since the North hasn't responded yet.

It made the villagers stressed, which meant more work for the soldiers. They hunted not only for the soldiers, but for the villagers as well. Triple the hunting shifts were sent out daily but autumn was approaching and animals were beginning to make their way to warmer places or prepare for hibernation.

The one thing the Southern Military could be grateful for was all the support and donations from the villages in the South. They greatly appreciated the work the soldiers have done, and thus have started a small charity that went towards rebuilding the fallen village and necessities for the survivors.

Most of the military's casualties were getting better as well, and Seto was glad. He was in Sky's room, running the typical diagnostic spell and taking down whatever came up. Sky's recovery was remarkable, it had sped up inhumanly quick, and Seto was smart enough to know that it wasn't because of his potions.

The sorcerer hummed as he walked towards his commandant's desk, which were now littered with potions meant for Sky's recovery and rest. Well, most of them became useless because of the sudden leap of the commandant's health. As Seto gathered the empty potion bottles into a basket he brought, he studied Sky's diagnostic run results.

He was too focused on trying to find out what happened to hear Sky turning his head, groaning softly to himself. The man had felt Seto's magic on him when he cast the spell, and Seto was quite the powerful sorcerer. However, he had never felt magic before and the unsettling feeling of powerful magic running over his body managed to wake him.

His hand was still wrapped up in a cast, but he used his other elbow to prop himself up, wincing as sat up. His loose hair fell at his neck as he looked around, blinking the grogginess away. He spotted Seto's moving body first and squinted at him.

"Foster? What are you doing in my room?"

The sorcerer yelped at the sound and jumped a bit, almost dropping one of the bottles. His hand flicked and his magic caught it before it hit the ground. He let out a sigh of relief before turning around slowly.

He gasped at the sight of his commandant struggling to keep himself upright on the bed. He hastily placed the potion bottle and basket down before running over, one hand at Sky's back to support him.

"Sir! You got injured, please lay down."

He gently pushed Sky's body to lay flat on the bed as the commandant slurred, "I got injured? When?"

Seto was busy making sure Sky was comfortable before standing back up straight and opening his mouth to answer his question. However, he found that he couldn't as he looked at his friend in the eyes.

His hands were folding in front of him, and they clenched as they gasped once more.

Sky blinked at him, confused.

Seto could only stammer, "Y-Your eyes, they-"

"Shit!"

It seemed like the tiredness had disappeared as the commandant hastily shut his eyes and proceeded to shield them with his hands. He groaned, turning his face away from Seto. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he just woke up! The commandant squeezed his eyes shut tightly at his own mistake.

He mumbled, "I-Ignore that, okay. I just... I..."

He quickly snuck one hand and pulled the blanket up to his face and all Seto could do was stand there. From behind the blanket, Sky groaned and said, "Just get me some food, Foster, and forget about what you just saw."

It was silent, as Seto couldn't remove the image of bright, glowing golden eyes from his mind. The sorcerer finally took a deep breath, shut his eyes then exhaled before saying softly, "Yes, sir. Welcome back."

He then gathered the empty potions as fast as he could before leaving as quickly as he could.

-

Rive was sniffing around the hallway, trying to find Ty. The door behind him burst and the wolf whined, jumping and turning around. He recognized the kind looking human in purple robes. He always gave him a pat whenever he saw him. For a small period of time, the human saw him and got him to do lots of different things.

Ty had said the human needed it for research.

Ty had also never mentioned his name. All Rive knew was that the purple human was an excellent human. The wolf opened its jaw to catch the human's attention, but he zoomed down the hallway before disappearing past a corner.

Rive didn't bother, just gave a low whine before heading back downstairs. Maybe he could sneak into the room where they store all the food.

The sight of an enormous wolf padding down a narrow hallway was still a sight to be used to in the Southern Military. Rive had really grown into his pelt, now going past Ty's waist. Any bigger and he could be a mount to ride into battle. He also grew in muscle mass, and once crushed Herobrine until he was gasping for air.

Once, right after the village attack, Ty had to spend most of his time at the base to overlook things in Sky's place. Rive hated it and demanded to go out. Ty compensated by getting Rive to follow one of the hunting shifts out on their hunt. He promised them that he would just tag along and keep guard of the horses and that he wouldn't interfere with the hunt.

But he did.

And he made it better.

The powerful wolf had brought down deer after deer. They had so much meat they had to let Rive carry some on the way to the base. The wolf's hunting skills had increased, he truly was becoming an apex predator. When the shift came back, they had informed Ty of Rive's assistance.

Afterwards, Ty brought a hefty amount of pork into his room as a treat for Rive. He then discussed with Rive about where he wanted to go. He told the wolf that if he wished to return to the wild to be with his kind, he could. He then also told him that if he wanted to stay, Ty could guarantee him a place among the soldiers.

It was just an idea, but he promised to bring it up to Sky once he woke up.

Rive was given time to think about his answer, but he had already decided. He wanted to stay. He felt safer by Ty's side. He found that he could trust humans again, and they weren't so bad after all. It's all so strange, but he liked it.

The wolf halted when a particular smell reached his nose. He looked up from his paws to see a familiar girl. Her hand was on a door knob, and she was looking straight at him. Rive had seen her before, she was also there when Ty found him. She looked pretty stern and scary, but right now she seemed calm.

Rive's tail started to wag as the girl crouched, clicking her tongue and reaching out her hand. She was calling him over! Her fingers rubbed against one another as Rive padded over excitedly. He towered over her, but she still let Rive lick her fingers.

She smiled a little before reaching out to pet his head. Her hands were soothing, especially when they rubbed that spot behind his ears. Rive decided he liked this human.

He couldn't help but whine happily, "I wish I knew your name, you're very nice!"

Immediately, the hand stopped. Rive opened his eyes which were previously shut in bliss. He looked at the girl who stared up at him in shock.

Rive cocked his head, "Can you understand me like Ty does?"

Those eyes widened even more and the girl scrambled back, away from the wolf. She was on her back, and she was panting in shock.

Rive felt like he had done something wrong, ducking his head and whining, "Oh, no! I didn't mean to scare you..."

The girl finally spoke, her eyes not leaving Rive's, "Holy fuck, I-I must be dreaming..."

Rive tilted his head, confused, "No, you're not. Are you a half-human? Like Ty?"

The wolf's ears pricked forward with interest, "Are you a dragon too? Oh! Maybe a wolf?"

The human had been rendered silent again. Rive stood up from his sitting position and cautiously stepped forward.

"Girl?"

The girl then rushed to her feet and ran off, leaving Rive alone again.

The wolf stared after her. He didn't chase her, not wanting to scare her off again. He continued on his journey to the meat room with a low whine.

-

Mitch was cleaning his rifle with a rag and gun oil by his best friend's bed. He was in civilian clothing, and was just trying to distract himself from moping at Jerome's side. He eventually started humming to himself.

"Buddy..?"

Mitch almost dropped his rifle with how fast he turned around. His eyes went wide at his friend looking at him blearily from the bed. Mitch immediately set his gun down on the ground before running to his best friend's side. He gently pushed back Jerome's messy and sweat slick hair.

Jerome blinked up at him sleepily, "How long was I asleep?"

Mitch smiled softly, "You were on and off, actually. But, it's been almost about a month since the attack. Everyone's okay, the villagers are settled in in the shelter. No word from the North. The commandant is-"

"When was the last full moon?"

Mitch's ramble stopped. He looked down at his friend, who looked as serious as he could be in his exhausted state. His brown eyes have become a bit more brighter, bordering on gold.

The blond answered quietly, "It's been some time, buddy. You're going to change soon."

Jerome shut his eyes and groaned, his head turning to the side. Mitch moved to sit on the empty space on the bed next to Jerome, eyes trailing down the bandaged up wrist of his friend. He had asked Seto to teach him how to apply the daily cream and bandage it properly. After Jerome gets discharged from bedrest, he'll go back to their shared rooms but Mitch would have to take care of him on Seto's part.

He also apologized to the sorcerer for snapping at him and threatening him back at the attack. Seto, unsurprisingly, said that it was alright and expected. He said that he'd have the same reaction should Brice ever get hurt.

Apparently, Jerome felt Mitch's stare on his wrist.

The man grumbled, "How the hell am I going to change with this? Would I be some pawless werewolf?"

Mitch frowned, "I don't know, buddy." He paused before coming to a conclusion, "We should have just told Seto. He would be able to help us, you know? He's got access to a library, maybe his magic folk friends can help or something..."

Jerome turned back to face Mitch, his face twisted in a scowl, "Magic folk are one thing, Mitch. Werewolves? Vampires? Unicorns? They're a whole different thing. Magic folk are people, and me? My kind, we're all just monsters."

The blond frowned, before reaching out to smooth the blanket over his friend's torso in an attempt at subtle comfort. He muttered, "You're not monsters, buddy. I've known you for a long time and..."

He clenched the sheets in his hand and turned to look at his friend, "You're far from a monster."

The frustrated look was wiped clean off of Jerome's face. His eyes still shone a bright amber, but his expression softened at his friend's confession.

Mitch concluded with a smile, "You're my best friend."

The brunet wished he had the strength to pull Mitch into a tight hug, but he couldn't even hold his chin up for long. He relaxed against the bed, his available hand coming up to rest on top of his friend's. He squeezed until Mitch relaxed his fingers. It was silent, Jerome shutting his eyes and smiling while Mitch stared at their hands.

They were best friends. Nothing more. They were rowdy, loud and fun when surrounded by others. However, once they're alone, they settle into their calm, affectionate sides. Both men enjoyed company, and affection through touch. In their rooms they would polish their boots while back to back, and when one of them was tired they would rest their head on the other's shoulder or lap...

Sometimes they would hold hands.

It was platonic, and it meant everything to them. It was the one time in their busy, adrenaline-filled lives where they could slow down and enjoy being friends without a care in the world.

Jerome only had one hand to offer now.

-

Herobrine grunted as he pulled himself onto the branch. His back burnt with every movement. He awkwardly then settled against the trunk, positioning himself in a way where pressure wasn't on his wound. He then relaxed his head and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Having some trouble, Little Hero?

The Swede grimaced. He growled, his eyes still shut, "Fuck off, you parasite."

Now, now. You do know I could help you right?

"I said. Fuck. Off."

Give me a little control, come on, just a little. For a few seconds! I could heal you up!

Herobrine folded his hands, fists tightly clenched shut, "I'm not falling for that again."

The voice in his head purred deeply.

Worth a try. Goodnight, Little Hero.

"I hope I don't wake up to live another day with you inside my head."

That's no fun.

Then Herobrine drifted off, his fingers relaxing as he slumped against the trunk.

When Herobrine woke, he found himself in a dark, cold place. The air was stagnant, but his skin was chilly to the touch. He could barely see, even with his excellent and enhanced eyesight. The ground was a sickly pale yellow and his surroundings were a foggy black.

He started to walk, trying to find his way through the darkness. When he heard a ear-splitting roar, he realized he wasn't in a fog.

He was in The End.

The black was just the void, and he was on a floating island of endstone. He had ventured to the realm once, when he stumbled upon the deactivated portal which lit up when he touched it. He had met an army of endermen and their leader.

Their leader, who was soaring through the sky and past the tall obsidian towers, giving away her presence with a deafening roar. When Herobrine looked around, he realized he was alone. There were no endermen around at all.

He was alone with the enderdragon.

He looked ahead and scowled as the enderdragon made eye contact with him, before diving towards him with a big flap of leathery wings. It landed heavily, the island shivering under her weight. She growled as she lowered her neck to Herobrine's face.

"You're too late," she whispered, sickly sweet yet filled with hate.

Herobrine didn't back down, staring straight at her reptilian eyes and snout, despite knowing that she could consume him in one easy bite.

He growled back, "Late for what?"

The enderdragon stood back up to her full height, staring down at him like he was a pesky ant at her feet. She let out a strange croon, as if calling for someone. Another roar sounded from the distance, and Herobrine had to hide his gulp.

There were two?

He tore his eyes away from the dragon to see a smaller black figure coming towards them. It was another enderdragon, though much smaller. He was about half of the female enderdragon's size, but was still menacing in nature. It touched down at the enderdragon's side and raised his head, roaring at the sky.

Herobrine stared at its purple glowing throat, powering up with violet flames. It then stopped its light show, looking back down and letting out a puff of smoke from its jowls as it snarled at Herobrine.

As stubborn as ever, Herobrine refused to be afraid, and just quipped, "You got a friend? Is that it?"

The female enderdragon made a raspy sound in her throat, as if she was laughing before narrowing her eyes at Herobrine.

"Oh, no. I've gained more than a friend. I've earned an ally you'll never have."

Herobrine's gaze was torn away from the enderdragon as the smaller one next to her started to glow. He watched with wide eyes as the shape started to shrink, into an all too familiar figure.

Tyler Warren Ellis stood in the enderdragon's place. He was wearing civilian clothes, but his wings were stretched out behind him proudly. His heavy tail was curled at his feet, and his eyes were narrowed in permanent hostility. He looked dangerous, not like the calm, composed captain Herobrine had met.

Faster than he could think, Ty jumped forward, claws extended and fangs bared. His had jumped at him with a sickening snarl, and Herobrine could only throw up his arm as protection, shutting his eyes.

The attack never came.

Herobrine opened his eyes, and his arm was still very much intact. He breathed a sigh of relief, smoothing a hand over his arm. He looked around. He seemed to be in some sort of cave now. The familiar scent of earth and rock reached his nose. It brought back pleasant memories.

"You shouldn't be here."

He swerved around to find another familiar face. It did take him a moment though, the man was so pale. His skin was basically a dull gray. His usually bright golden hair was a dirty blond.

Jason Probst.

Herobrine had never interacted with him just yet. He felt like the time would come eventually. He had only ever watched the lieutenant from afar. He was a soldier who stuck by the code, but was particularly a favorite among other soldiers. He was patient and caring, the mother hen of the Southern Military, really.

Herobrine couldn't foresee the friendly man to have any major problems he needed to seek out and offer help for. He had a good support system. He was a great soldier as well.

However, now, he looked like a corpse. His torso was covered in bones that seemed to squeeze the life out of him. It looked extremely uncomfortable, and with every wheezing breath from the soldier, it definitely was. Herobrine had seen the constricting bones before, in his dreams. They have never failed to make him feel disgusted.

Jason was just standing there, head ducked, wheezing with every inhale and exhale. His nails were a shiny silver, but hung limp at his sides. Herobrine decided to approach him, help him. He stepped forward, hand extended.

Herobrine flinched when Jason started grabbing his throat, gasping and choking on air. His nails dug into his skin as his body spasmed uncontrollably. All Herobrine could do was watch as the soldier started to tear up and sob as he choked on seemingly nothing.

Finally, his eyes opened and Herobrine was met with a familiar silver. He had seen it before, he had observed it before. Every night Jason would retreat into his room to let his form come through. Herobrine would watch helplessly as the soldier would scream and mess up his entire room as he let his inner wither take over.

However, Herobrine could do nothing. He has never gone through such a thing, and he's read every forbidden book in the Ancient Magic Folk Archives. There was absolutely nothing that could help Jason without hurting him. Herobrine didn't want to risk it.

All he could do, when Jason passed out from screaming himself hoarse, was repair everything that he broke and heal any self-inflicted wounds.

Right now, what Jason was doing was a hundred times worse.

His nails scratched his throat until it bled, and he bit his tongue with his sharp teeth when he screamed. Blood was gushing down his mouth and neck, staining his civilian clothing. It was gory, loud and terrifying.

Eventually the screaming, convulsing and clawing stopped, as Jason collapsed on the ground in a panting heap. Herobrine wanted to reach out, heal him, but Jason's head turned, and bright silver eyes stared at him. Herobrine could see his mangled tongue in his mouth as he rasped.

"You've done this to me."

When Herobrine's fingers were inches away from Jason, the soldier's body seemed to fade into dust. The Swede stared at the empty spot Jason had just been laying on moments before, and brushed his hand against the dust and soot.

He rubbed them between his fingers, staring at the flakes with wide eyes until a sound captured his attention.

It was sobbing.

Herobrine pushed himself from the ground and turned around, searching for the source. He broke into a run, desperate. His skin was still cold, but his head felt hot. The crying grew louder, and he saw something red in the distance. He forced himself into a sprint, the red growing bigger and bigger with each step.

A sea of bodies lay before him.

Women, men, children, babies of all ages, all color, all sizes and shapes, lay dead on the ground stained with blood mixed with other's.

Herobrine found himself stuck to the ground. The blood was collecting fast, reaching his boots. He stepped back in shock. The crying was as loud as ever, and it was deep within the sea of corpses. Herobrine could feel his skin crawl and his heart start to beat rapidly, but he forced his anxiety and panic down.

He stepped into the red sea.

The squelch of soft, rotting human flesh under his boots was horrid. Herobrine wanted to rip his ears off of his head so he couldn't hear anything. His hands were shaking as he maneuvered closer to the sobbing. He didn't dare look at the bodies' faces, terrified that he'd recognize someone.

Herobrine squinted when he saw a distinct shape among the dead, shivering. The crying seemed to be coming from there. The Swede moved faster, before calling out the crying person.

"Hello? Excuse me? Are you okay?"

As he went closer, he recognized the figure to be a man. His back was facing him though, so he couldn't see his face.

Herobrine's voice dropped to a gentle tone, "Sir?"

The figure snapped around, fingers over his eyes. His long shoulder-length brown hair was messy and matted with blood. Herobrine doesn't know whether it was his or others'. The man's fingers parted to allow himself to see, and Herobrine gulped at the gold glow from between the man's bloodied fingers.

Herobrine stopped where he was, a meter or two away from the man, and he quietly called, "Adam?"

The name seemed to affect him as the man turned back around, burying his face into his hands. The man screamed at the top of his lungs, "I didn't mean to do it!"

"I-"

"I swear I didn't! I don't know what-I don't know what happened! I-I swear! I'd nev-never do something like this! You have to believe me, I swea-"

"Dahlberg!"

The commandant stopped at the sound of his name. He too was in civilian clothes, which were very unkempt and bloody. Herobrine took a deep breath, ignoring the stench of death and copper that filled his nose.

"Can you come to me?"

He could do this. He could help.

"Adam, can you come to me?"

He extended a hand.

"Let me help you. I-I've been there..."

Sky's head turned to him ever so slightly.

"Take my hand, I'll get you out of here."

Sky was still on top of a few corpses, who made disgusting sounds as he moved, facing Herobrine fully. He really looked horrible. His hair wasn't in its usual ponytail and was covering his eyes. His cheeks had sunk and his skin was dirty with mud and blood. He looked absolutely terrified as he stared at Herobrine's hand.

Herobrine offered a gentle smile, leaning closer.

Sky started to extend a hand towards his, and Herobrine moved some more to meet him.

Sky's body jerked, and Herobrine watched as a fresh new bloody patch started to form on Sky's abdomen. The Swede finally allowed himself to gasp, looking up to see who had stabbed a sword right through the commandant's abdomen.

He saw a brunet man. Short, young-looking. Messily cut hair. He wore a military shirt. He held the handle of a military-issued sword, that was currently impaling Sky. He had white eyes.

He was Herobrine.

But at the same time he wasn't.

Or was he?

Herobrine didn't know. The only thing he could think of, was whether he looked that... Crazy. That eccentric when he had killed.

The man behind Sky tore the sword out with no mercy, letting Sky drop forward. The commandant's hand slipped out of Herobrine's hand and fell to the sea of bodies. A corpse joining his friends. It was just Herobrine and himself, staring at each other.

The one who had killed Sky held no expression. His eyes were narrowed, almost as if he was trying to unpack the sight before him. They were cold, calculating. One may even say they looked lifeless. He was clean, pure, not a speck of blood or dirt anywhere, even on his boots.

The killer then raised his sword, two hands on its handle. He raised high behind him, Herobrine in its way.

Herobrine woke up. His skin was hot. Too hot. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he was panting heavily. He lifted himself off of the trunk, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath.

He was panicking and he could not breathe. Herobrine wrapped his arms around himself and gasped into his knees. He was a pathetic sight.

His scalp burned, as if something had sliced right through.