#minecraftvoid

I've been flying for a while.

Based off the bedrock, I think I'm pretty fast. My wings are strong, their large surface area definitely helps to pull me across the gravityless landscape. It doesn't help the fact that I don't feel any closer to my goal, though.

The void, it's deafening silence above me, created a mock sky for the worlds I've pretended to fly through. The bedrock is the canvas for my imagination, it's surface littered with things I've recalled from my limitless mind.

The Overworld's trees and grass, the greenery brushing against the wind, leaves rustling and grass whistling. Expansive plains and mountainous mountains. Natural stone skyscrapers that carve the clouds with snow tipped brushes. Colorful plant life, vibrant enough to create dyes from, dot the bright green of plains and flower forests, creating art in the most unlikely places. A gorgeous blue sea of aqua, a place for many a creature to play. And the structures of old times and new, ones untouched by players for years. Temples filled with relics of lost peoples, and quaint villages thriving through sure will, their townsfolk happy to live a life without much adventure.

The Nether's lakes of liquid fire, a deadly yet beautiful glow emanating up from the floor. Red wastelands and valleys of soul and bone, a hard obstacle for anyone to conquer. Forests of red and blue mushrooms, inhabited by beasts likely related to pigs, whose homes are that of black stone and whose greed is insatiable. Fortresses of brick which hold the undead and their firery golems.

Even the End, with it's black dragon that protects the only escape from the pale landscape. Populated only by tall dark figures and their gravity defying homes, where one can earn wings.

But the silence is creeping up on me. It's suffocating, like the dust that surrounds it, but worse. There's no air to rush past my ears here, not a sound made from the beat of my wings. Only silence.

I want it gone. It my distress, I barely registered that I had reached my end point, and simply crashed atop the bedrock where I began clawing at the gray stone. For the first time in what felt like forever, because it probably was, I heard something. The scratch of claw against stone filled the void. The noise, although not pleasant, was better than the Void's suffering nothingness.

But every good thing must come to an end. The scrape of dragon claw against bedrock became less satisfying with each pass. The sound dulled down to background noise, but I didn't dare stop because the silence was worse.

I let my thoughts wander, and me reaching my end goal finally set in. I was at the center of the world. 0,0.

I was slightly saddened by this, it only felt like just a few minutes ago that I set the goal in the first place.

Wait.

My ear flicked in alarm as I heard muffled footsteps.

I stopped my scratching to place my ear against the wall. The footsteps paused, and were replaced by a soft yet bewildered voice.

"..... ......?!"

As hard as I might, I couldn't figure out what they were saying. The voice was cut off by a clang, and the footsteps returned at a quicker pace. But they soon faded to silence.

It's odd. Being alone, I mean. You have so much time. And so little thoughts. But those thoughts become big thoughts, and eventually ideas.

I have no idea where I am.

It's dark. Very dark. And there's a heavy smell of dust. Like an old book.

I looked down. Or is that up? I can't really tell, but it's at my feet. I didn't have feet before though, I'm sure of that. Actually, I'm sure I didn't have thoughts before, either. I don't think I existed a few moments ago.

But back to my feet. Which is a weird thing to say.

They're claws. Like dragonish claws. And they're a dusty gray. Like the dust around me. Was that always there?

The dusty gray scales eventually fade to pale skin on my legs. Which then fades back to scales on my thighs. That seems to be a theme across my body. Scales to skin to scales. My arms are like that. My torso is covered in the textured scales, my belly and small of my back being the only things exposed.

I reached a clawed hand to my face. Although I couldn't see it, I knew it was dusted with scales as well. A few along my cheeks, that probably looked like freckles, and more that creeped along my ears. They were long and elf like, which fit the otherworldly aura I have going. My hair was light and fluffy, and dragging a lock in front of my face revealed that it was a dark gray, similar, yet darker, than my scales. It wasn't long, per say, but it definitely wasn't a buzz cut, thankfully. Small horns the same color of my scales, more dusty gray, poked out of my hair. I wondered briefly what my eyes looked like before moving on. Probably gray.

I turned behind me. Although I previously felt my back for scales, I wasn't quite sure what to expect back there. It definitely wasn't large bat like wings and a reptilian tail. But I'm not complaining. I tested the unfamiliar limbs like I tested the first four.

There was another odd sight behind me, though.

A wall, maybe a ceiling, or perhaps a floor, I still can't tell, spread out indefinitely. It was another shade of gray, matching closely to the shade of my scales. Bedrock.

Bedrock?

What is bedrock? My mind had supplied the word out of nowhere, and yet it was unfamiliar. A wave of new info hit me as I inquired.

Bedrock, a block that cannot be broken by most mortal means, and blocks the player from accessing the void.

I was startled, to say the least. I hadn't known my mind could do that. It doesn't seem normal to just know info at the press of a theoretical button. But, I mean, it doesn't seem normal to have scales litter your body, or to just appear out of thin air, so I really shouldn't judge.

There were more unfamiliar words too. Player and void. Curiosity got the better of me.

Void is just the stuff I'm floating in. It suffocates players if they fall deep enough in it. Which is odd, because I'm not falling. It's also under the Overworld and End, and surrounds the Nether. I'll look at those words later.

Player, on the other hand, came back with two separate answers. The first one was people who inhabit the world of Minecraft and can manipulate it using various means. They live indefinitely through respawn, which recreates them at their set spawn whenever they're killed.

The other answer was me.

So, I'm a player?

That seems strange. I don't think players are created in the "void" with dragonesq features and dusty scales. It just, doesn't seem correct.

I fluttered my wings to get closer to the bedrock wall. It felt rough like sandpaper, yet again similar to my scales, leading me to believe that they may be made of this "bedrock" stuff. Which I suppose makes sense for a being made from the void.

I briefly considered going further into the void, as this bedrock stuff doesn't seem all that interesting, but something caught my attention.

A small, nearly unnoticed tug.

The tug wasn't physical, It just felt like I should go in a seemingly random direction parallel to the bedrock. Like the universe was trying to push me in the direction of adventure. Like this bedrock stuff was an important obstacle and this was the way past it. The way out of the void.

I smiled. This void place was starting to get boring after all, so might as well take a chance.