#minecraft timeline

Of course, whatever they were originally called has been lost to time. It is safe to assume they went by many names. But they are the oldest known civilization in minecrafita.

The surface was not safe during this time, enderman roamed the surface killing most of the ancients, and so they were driven underground. Not forever- they thought- one day they would return and take back their world. It is said some didn't flee to the earth, but rather to other planes. How they did so and if the story is true, is unknown.

In the earth, they made sprawling mineshaft's and learned the secrets of making strong cities underneath the earth, and created the first Golems. Tall, powerful creatures able to blast intruders. It kept them safe from enderman who wandered down, and other creatures that haunted the tunnels.

What ended up sealing their fates in this place was their own deaths. Corpses turning blue, making spores. People buried them in the stone, wanting to give proper burials but wanting to ensure whatever was infesting these corpses would stay gone. But they only provided a breeding ground.

The sculk grew under their homes, their streets, under the mineshafts. People unknowingly treading on it for years. Until all at once, it began to rise. The more people fought- the more people bled and died, the more it grew. When enemies came and died near the sculk- they too, caused its spread. The people tried, but it wasn't until their golems were infested with spores and turned from metal golems to organic beasts that trapped them inside their own homes like a horrible Warden- that they realized this was futile.

In fleeing, two groups formed. Those who fled to the surface- a place many had not been to in generations- and those who created the portal. Every citizen who stayed underground helped build the structure, a portal that would take them somewhere. They had no idea where- anywhere safe was what they wanted. The portal could only work once, and so it did.

Those who went through the portal were never seen by those who left to the surface again.

The surfacers expected a fight- the enderman ruled world they had known. But there was none, they had vanished- atleast for now. A boone they would not fail to take advantage of. And soon, a new era began.

At the beginning of this era, when houses were still tents and homes were still just warm hugs, there was unity between all of the ancients who had found life on the surface. But, peace does not last forever.

The ancients had a wedge driven between them, some of them sought to prepare for the next wave of whatever may come for them. To prepare for war and battle. Others wished to live as they always have- peacefully.

The wedge settled in and created a divide, forming the two groups. The peaceful Ancients settled in villages across the biomes. The aggressive ancients wandered, creating towers for now as they learned new ways of combat. In their pursuits, many of them gained a grayer skin tone from times in the mines or spinding more time in the cover of night.

Eventually, what became known as Pillagers, began to raid. Setting up stronger towers to mount attacks from. They targetted larger villages, and any other structures they could find to loot from. When they had enough, they found a dark wooded biome that suitted them and created mansions. They avoided smaller places, and as such smaller villages became more common. But anyone who dared fight back and return home would have their village marked.

In the depths of ancient cities and mines, something remembered. Something found the carvings and pictures of long-gone families and remembered them. Something yearned for a sun they never knew. Something yearned for a life of their own.

And so evolution found its way, sculk formed itself in the way of the pictures. Made in the image of the ancients, but no longer having their true form to base off of.

The sculk formed hands to craft and pet, torso to be wrapped in and feel warmth. Legs to run and jump, eyes to see the sun it yearned for. But its kept the strength of its roots, able to gain strength from the death of other things. To absorb their essence, and use it for long-gone magics. To heal its wounds with tasty sustenance. The strong mind to do what the Ancients could not.

This beast of love, this creature made in the image of the Ancients, this thing of pictures and ideas, of infinity and the finite, started the new era.

<Source>

This creature, now known as Steve, awoke on the surface. Perhaps in a forest, perhaps on a mountain. But the massive impact they had on the world is well known.

They found many days living in the sun, making temporary shelters, and exploring. Finding joy in it all. Building homes, mining in the darkest depths, creating new things. Enjoying the world.

But in the shadows of the night, they saw the scars of the suffering. Zombified corpses of people they did not know, and other such horrible creatures that they-despite their best efforts- could not bring to peace.

The villagers were almost defenseless against this new thing, only having iron golems, which were only a shadow of the great golems they once created when they were still ancients. But they found no such need. Perhaps the new person could not understand boundaries, or their speech very well beyond trade, but they understood kindness.

They helped defend against pillagers, but in the fights throughout the nights, they saw a creature in much more need of help. A tall creature, whose speech was just as incohereable as their own to the villagers. Whose power was different, and not of this world. But Steve saw pain in the eyes of this monster.

Steve traveled to the nether first, constructing things that- if they thought too hard about it- they were unsure how they came up with the ideas to make such things. But it felt like they knew it, as if they had felt the recipe in what was the infancy of hands so long ago.

But soon, they chased the Enderman where no Ancient had ever willingly gone too before. The End.

There, Steve faced their greatest challenger. There, Steve saw the faces of a kind they resonated with. Those who could not understand, but longed for a sun they were denied. Who longed to run and play by their own volition. To live as they wished.

And so, in a battle that tore them apart, they slew the beast. And they freed the end. And they returned home.

And for a moment, as they fell through time and space, as they descended and ascended back to their own home, they came to hear voices of love.

Alex awoke on the surface, on a mountain. Or was it a forest?

Alex found they weren't alone, they found Steve. And soon Noor, Sunny, Zuri, and many others. Their world was filled with them now, wanting to live. Explore, fight, build, survive.

And so this era we live in, this era of exploration. Of finding new biomes to frolic and build in. This era of love. Of finding new animals to share with others. This era of kindness, of everything, of simplicity of...

> Well, I could go on forever now, couldn't I?

The only thing this cannot be is an era of peace. These creatures, now known as the 'players' still feel the beat of what they once were under the ground. The festering growth that refuses to know love. That does not yearn for a sun it does not know. That does not care for running and hugging. Only consuming and destroying.

But that fight is not an impossible one, not for them. They will find new ways to live, new ways to protect, and new ways to free their world.

And so the Era of love is written, and it is still being written. Written by hands that bathe in sunlight, that run and feel the grass. They show and are shown kindness. Perhaps you will write your own note in this era.