(I said I would bring in other Youtubers right? Well here they are!)

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He scaled a fence with ease, dirty blond hair getting ruffled in the wind. The world passed by him in a blur, all the while he never grew tired of running at inhuman speeds. Maybe because he wasn't human... After all, his skills were like something out of a dream. His skills rivaled the best of the speedrunning and hunters guild. He and Illumina were constantly in a battle over who was faster.

They would both train every day, in different places of course, but at least Illumina was respected. Sure I am respected, thought the guy racing across a field before leaping down a cliff and diving into the water. But only because I am good at what I do. Why do I have to be different? As he paddled up to an island, he sat down on the sandy beach and looked around at the ocean surrounded on three sides by towering cliffs. It was comforting being alone here.

He pulled off the gloves he was wearing, revealing a lime green skin tone underneath. Everything about that screamed, "NOT HUMAN!" Instead, he often wore a green hoodie of the same color just to make it mildly realistic to have green hands. His clothes covered most of his skin, except for his face. And for that, he had a simple white mask with a crudely drawn smiley face on it, courtesy of a friend.

It was strange about his hands. A normal speed running talent would have to wear gloves that would help them use their powers to collect items and "store" them away. In fact, only the speedrunners had the ability to store items, and he was the only one who could do it without the gloves. His gloves were just for show, no one knew that he didn't need them.

However, others grew suspicious of his abilities, hence why he liked being alone. 

He was constantly aware of the environment around him, ready to use it to his advantage or run from potential danger.

Speedrunners weren't responsible for the growth of worlds. That was up to the Builder and Redstoner guilds. Speedrunners were competitors. They trained for the annual Speedrunning cup.

The cup itself allowed the winning speedrunner to live in the Champions world, a place where they could live the rest of their life and relax. The losing speedrunners had to take on a different job, one that didn't relate to their talent.

What the worst thing about talents was the fact that you were born with them. You couldn't change them. Sure he was brilliant at what he did, in fact, he was considered one of the best speedrunners of all time. But sometimes he hated what he did. It was just the same thing, over and over again.

Train, train, train, just for a chance at winning the cup. Winning the cup didn't seem so hard to him. All you had to do was collect enough supplies to make it into the next section of the race titled "The Nether" for its hell-like landscape. 

The training course mimicked the real course, but smaller. So he knew that once you entered the Nether you had to fight many mobs to get Blaze Finders. Then you crafted them all together to make an End Key. The End was the final arena, the hardest one of them all. It was rumored to have a dragon that could kill you in seconds from either launching you into the sky or spitting clouds of poison around. Few survived the tough challenge.

It almost sounded cruel. But it wasn't because the speedrunners didn't have a choice. They didn't have to do the cup. Still, he found himself wanting to do it, despite the risk of death. Perhaps it was because then he would finally prove himself?

"Dream?" Came a familiar voice from the trees. Apparently, he wasn't alone. He turned his head to look backward, confirming the owner of the voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I could make the same argument for you, George." Dream turned back to stare at the ocean. Even though his eyes were turned away, he still saw George sit down next to him, tilting his head up to the sky. A peaceful moment of silence passed between the two, only broken up by a few seagulls honking in excitement. 

"You know I come here every day." The tone was neutral, just simply stating a fact.

Over the years Dream had come to appreciate his childhood friend, George. While part of him felt that George was only friends with him because George was colorblind, the other part knew that George was his friend because he cared about him. George also confirmed that when Dream nervously asked about it.

"Worried about the cup?"

"No..." Dream picked up a small stone and twirled it in his fingers. With a sigh, he tossed the stone halfheartedly into the rippling water. "That's the least of my worries."

"You wouldn't be the first alien to compete in the cup." George had watched the stone fall into the water and gave it a strange look. Finally turning to face him, Dream tugged off his hoodie, revealing more of his bright green skin, almost glowing in the warm evening sun. George said nothing, simply giving the exposed skin a glance before turning his eyes back to Dream.

"What if I'm not an alien?"

Aliens were considered to be foreign, however, they were only new bits of code. They were still apart of the system, as they were designed to be.

"You are not a glit-"

"And why wouldn't I be?" Dream countered. "I look human other than my skin and I have these strange abilities." 

"All the more reason you would be an alien." He replied, adjusting his glasses. "If it was just your skin, I would agree that you were a glitch. But glitches don't have strange abilities, they have hindrances."

Silence fell once more over the two as Dream silently conceded George's point but still battled with it. 

"Race to the pavilion?" George asked with a smirk. Dream reacted with no hesitation, blowing a small silver whistle hanging from a single string tied around his neck. Two dolphins came whizzing up, chittering excitedly. It wasn't long before the two speedrunners were perched on the dolphins' backs, racing against each other.

Dream had donned his hoodie and mask; whilst George put on his sunglasses. The two would often race against each other, honing their abilities more and more. It wasn't long before the land came into sight, the pavilion looming on the top of a mountain.

Swinging his legs with ease of the dolphin's side, Dream gained a second of time against George. His heart beat hard in his chest as he scaled obstacles in his path and slid under fallen trees. He vaguely heard the heavy breathing of his friend right behind him, but he ignored it. The next part was harder. A strong piece of wood was drilled into the cliffside, perfectly centered over a steep gap. One had to take a lasso and swing across the gap Indiana Jones style.

His hands went to the place where he hung his lasso and with the snapping sound of the lasso, Dream was poised in the air, hanging by his arms. Using the momentum like a swing, he twisted backward and snapped the lasso off the wood, sliding backward on the gravel. He kept low as he slid, one hand on the ground. Dream spotted George trying a different tactic while swinging across the gap.

Within seconds his momentum wore out and he was back on his feet, running at the climbing section. Rocks had been smoothed out over time by the millions of climbs people had done, but it was no trouble for Dream. His fingers slotted into gaps that seemed invisible and his feet seemed to stick to the wall. Muscles burning from the steep climb, Dream pushed himself harder in order to reach the top.

Finally, his strained fingers grappled onto the top of the cliff and he rolled himself over, heaving deep breaths and stretching the pain out of his limbs. George was quick to follow, but not so quick to recover. 

The white and gold pavilion loomed over them, dwarfing their bodies. It was decorated in orate symbols and had statues of past winners of the cup. Various buttons and levers were integrated into the structure, inviting someone to figure them out. 

"Do you think anyone will solve the puzzle?" George questioned after he had regained his normal heartbeat.

Tracing a finger through the gravel, Dream thought for a moment. "It would take someone very smart." He conceded. The pavilion was the most valuable thing in the system. Created by the most clever Redstoner and the most powerful builder, it had secret passages and puzzles no one could solve. Legend had it that a prize fit for the Master was at the end of the puzzle. The Master was never chosen after the Redstoner and Builder died, it simply remained a tale of the past.

"You're smart," Protested George.

"Not in the way of whatever went into that," He gestured in a circle at the building. "I don't have the talent anyway."

"Yeah..." George stared at his feet for a while until both he and Dream were startled by excited yelling.

"Dream! George!"

It was their friend and fellow speedrunner, Sapnap, followed closely by Bad, their mentor. Bad, or Badboyhalo was nothing like his name suggested. He was kind and built his pupils up. Bad was also an alien, much like George had suggested Dream was. He had one the cup twelve years ago and instead of living in the palace, chose to mentor new trainees.

"How'd the race go?" Bad inquired, rolling up his sleeves. His skin was pitch black and his eyes were pools of white. Often wearing a red and black robe of sorts, today Bad wore white and red. It was a surprising contrast.

"I won," Dream chuckled gleefully, wincing when George punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"Only because I tripped!" He retorted.

"Suuurrreee," Dream rolled his eyes.

As he spoke the ground let out a little tremor. Bad narrowed his eyes and looked worried for a second, letting out a fake laugh. Sapnap looked confused, while George seemed to share the same feeling and a little fear. Meanwhile, Dream felt a piercing pain in his abdomen, making him fall to the ground.

"Dream are you okay?" Bad and George rushed to Dream at the same time, while Sapnap was dismissively saying, "Green boy will be fine. He always is."

A second tremor came followed by a rumble, progressively filling Dream with more pain. Light flickered through his eyes as he started to blackout, the panicked voices of his friends echoing in his head. Then it all went black.

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It felt like knives were stabbing in my head. If my eyes were open, I couldn't tell because everything was pitch black. The air felt sharp and it stung my nose and fingertips. My... bare fingertips. I felt slowly across my body, as my body was stiff. I felt a strap across my torso, restraining me from getting up.

"W-where am I?" I mumble to myself, forcing my eyelids open to see a dark room. I could vaguely make out shapes in the darkness, even after my eyes adjusted. A soft light started pulsing from a corner of the room, blinding me temporarily. Pain flared up again all over my body like it was on fire and then faded as quickly as it came, leaving a pulsing numbness.

The light faded to normal brightness and finally, I could see again. The room's walls were covered in black paint with little dots swimming across them. The objects in the room were foreign and strange, and I could not explain what they looked like because when I tried to focus on them they disappeared.

When I looked down at myself I let out a yelp.

"Welcome to Ciphioria 89" a mechanical voice crackled unevenly. The bond on me released and I jumped out with my normal agility before frantically looking around. What had happened to my green skin? I paused in my frenzied searching when the voice continued.

 "This is the glitched world. There is no way out."

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Well? What did you guys think? I decided to wrangle this story back in and finish it. This story concept was started three years ago, it's about time I wrap it up in a neat little bow.

The corrupted worlds were not to be tinkered with. There was a reason so few knew about them. In fact, such an effort had been made to erase the memories of those who knew about the corruption. Despite such efforts, they still missed little bits here and there, which is how Grian ended up knowing about them.

He learned them from an old text hidden in the basement of his house. Grian had come across this book by accident, and he had been instantly fascinated by everything it told him.

When he read the code on the command block and saw where it led to, he instantly remembered the day he discovered the text and all it had to offer.

(Insert harp for memory noise)

https://youtu.be/JEuFMOyr6JQ

(Yeah I actually did it)

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*A long time ago...* (Yeah no, I'm not doing that XD) (Back to the book, shall we?)

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It had to be twelve years ago, right when Grian could not stop getting into trouble. He loved learning and the academy didn't give him any books other than the ones he was assigned. Of course he plowed right through them, craving more information.

He had seen his parents go into the basement quite often, so he decided he would finally go down there. Grian had asked his parents what was down there to which they replied.

"Boring stuff sweetie."

He didn't believe one word of it. If it was so boring, why did they keep going to it?

So when they left to go run an errand, Grian snuck down to the basement to find quite a few obstacles in his way.