whoever is writing the minecraft lore rn needs a raise. bcuz some of the lore- and even just the theories- r so good and it gets. NO recognition
minecraft: "yeah souls have power and they can suck light out of things and there's sand in literal hell that have the screaming dead in them and when combined make a literal demon that rots everything living in sight and in the deep dark there's plants that can detect movement and hisses when broken and there's a warden that protects the caves and can kill you in one hit and it has souls in his chest and it makes a heartbeat sound and all the lights around it flicker off if its near"
us af: "oh okay"
don't forget the giant fossilised remains of god knows what that used to be and also the implications of the fact that villagers turned into zombies look different to the normal ones wandering around that just so happen to look like you. also the endermen speaking thing.
yeah! you can clearly hear them say "what's up" or "hello" when your not bothering them.
and then theres the destroyed bastions and the desert temples and the jungle temples and the ruined portals . what is up with this world we inhabit
"Lightning has transformative powers, gold has regenerative properties so strong it can save you from death, ghasts are trapped in Hell, piglins built the bastions and the zombification virus nearly wiped them out, the ancient peoples created some kind of apocalypse so fucked up it almost wiped out all life and basically severed the link between dimensions, and also none of this is real, the universe is just a story we're telling about ourselves because we're all stories and stardust and not ready to perceive the true nature of existence yet."
Bro.
There is only one mob found in all three dimensions. They speak in distorted words. They can teleport so quickly that no projectile will ever hit them. They roam freely. They roam in a world of villages, of bastions, of mansions, of strongholds, of mine shafts, of fortresses, and of buildings old and vast. Something built these structures.
There is only one mob left that retains the ability to build. To create. Endermen place their blocks haphazardly. Their actions appear random, but they can build all the same. They are the only living creature left that has the power to build. At least until you come along. You are also capable of living in all three dimensions. It hurts Endermen to be perceived by you. You are the only one that can hurt them in this way.
These creatures live in a place called the end, on tiny broken islands in an endless sea of void. Cities can be found on these broken islands. Cities and ships, littered with incredibly high level items. All built with purpose, a purpose that you might never get to understand. There are no people left here. There are no notes, no signs. Nothing left behind to tell the story of what happened but the buildings frozen in time.
The end is the only place survival players can obtain flight. The end is the only place creative players can easily die. The void can kill gods. It is the only thing that can kill gods. It cannot kill the Ender Dragon. You can kill the Ender Dragon. You can bring the Dragon back. You are not the first person to kill the Ender Dragon. You are not the first person to bring it back. Those who came and built cities, those who built ships in the void, those who figured out how to craft wings. They killed the Ender Dragon too. Every ship in the end has a dragon’s head. There are so many ships.
Those who came before you did everything you can do, and more. It did not save them. Yet here you are. You are not special in any singular ability, and yet, for some reason, you have made it here. You have survived. You are here, you are alive, and you are still creating. You are building, changing the world once more, taking apart the old and ushering in something new. Forming bonds in ways no other creatures can.
Those that came before you killed the Ender Dragon countless times. They brought the dragon back countless times.
And yet.
When you kill the Ender Dragon for the very first time, she gives you a gift. She has died countless times before, to countless hands. You aren’t any different, and yet you are. Because you are the first one to receive her egg. It is entrusted to you. There is only one egg. You cannot get it in creative, you can only get it from her. She has chosen you, out of so, so many. She will not tell you why. You are left to find your own answers. To create your own answers. That’s what the game’s all about.
