My Better Half

Stranger on the Shore Type Beat

The next few days consisted of Steve adding on to his house, fishing, gathering plants, and searching for a sign of another person in this world. There were villagers of course, but they mostly kept to themselves. That didn’t leave many options, but Steve was determined to find the stranger,
who had taken the note at least. They took every note he left, but never left a response.

Still, he could’ve sworn this world was only accessible to him. No matter. Anyone willing to help him was welcome to stay.

In much higher spirits since he gained a bed and a reliable food source—and now equipped with a stone pickaxe and sword just in case—he decided to try his luck in the mine once more. As he shut the door behind him to begin his quest, however, he felt as though he was being watched. He whipped around, prepared to see a creeper or enderman, but found nothing. He tried to shake off the feeling, but nothing came of it until he returned from the mine later that day, his worn pickaxe and bag of iron slung over his shoulder.

That’s when he heard it: a beautiful, echoing melody, filled with desire for a home never known and the simplicity of childhood… and a voice singing along. He stopped at the mouth of the cave, blinking away the bright golden hour sunlight, trying to make out the source of the music. His vision cleared, and he saw a figure lounging on the river bank, sweetly singing along to the melancholic tune.

Steve was entranced. He didn’t dare to look away or step closer, in fear of stopping the music. But he didn’t have to.

The figure turned around, and appeared to be Steve’s own reflection: the same shaggy dark hair and short beard, the same tanned skin from working outside, the same faded blue shirt and tattered jeans smudged with dirt. But where his eyes should have met another pair beneath the stranger’s raised eyebrows, he found only white.

A memory jolted through Steve: how this face had haunted him from every corner, how scared he was of it as a child. He knew exactly who this stranger was.

“Herobrine.”

The white-eyed man paused his song and smiled. “Steve.”

A million questions spun through Steve’s head like mine carts in an infinite loop, but none would escape. Some sat on the back of his tongue, like how? and why? and why now?, but they tasted
too much like the burning that came before tears for him to speak any of them aloud. He dared a step closer to Herobrine, then another, before he fell to his knees.

Herobrine didn’t move to close the distance, and he was glad. He didn’t think he could handle that, not now.

“I can understand your reaction. Your confusion.” Herobrine turned his head away once more. “I don’t quite know why I’m here either. But I’ve been meaning to speak with you now that I
am.”

“Was that you?” Steve started, setting down his gear. “Who left the wool, I mean.”

Herobrine pivoted his body, his back now facing the red sky. “Yes, that was me. It’s been so long since you were last here, and much has changed. Sleep is the only way to keep the phantoms at bay.”

“Phantoms?”

“Terrible creatures that go hunting at night for creatures not yet asleep. You didn’t know of them, so I made sure you were protected.”

“But why? How much has changed? Everything feels the same.” Well, almost everything. But he wanted to prove that he was still knowledgeable of this world, that everything hadn’t moved on without him.

Herobrine’s blank eyes saw right through him. “I’m not sure. I’ve never existed when you weren’t here, but I could never manifest. Not as I am now. I thought… maybe this was a sign.” He
stood then, brushing the sand off his jeans. “And I can answer your other question, but it’s growing dark. May we talk on the way to your shelter?”

Steve rose slowly, taking the time to think over his answer. If this was really Herobrine, he didn’t have to ask. He could do whatever he wanted. And wasn’t Herobrine meant to be malicious, unleashing hordes of monsters and destroying worlds? Yet he found himself nodding, leading the dangerous stranger to his doorstep.

Once they began the trek back up the hill, Herobrine explained how phantoms swoop down on humans that don’t sleep for three days, how he saw Steve struggling to sleep and wanted to help, how he found sheep not far east from their location. Aside from the phantoms, the main changes had been more.

More creatures, both docile and predatory. Like the bees Steve had seen earlier, and fish, llamas, and birds.

More caves to explore, both underwater and underground. They trailed deep, deeper than even bedrock, containing bioluminescent creatures, crystals, and the terrible Warden.

More treasures and ruins of past civilizations. Sunken ships, ruins of portals and temples, even towns in the Nether and End. Some abandoned, others flourishing.

More humanoid foes. Illagers had fortresses in the woods and towers nearby villages. Zombies dwelled underwater and beneath desert dunes.

And more biomes than Steve could ever discover in a lifetime. Rainforests, cliffs, canyons, mountains, tundras—the list went on.

---

Steve and Herobrine had long since entered the shelter, and the former listened intently to everything the other had to offer. Maybe this time could be different, after all. He had planned to
spend this lifetime sitting on his porch or in his future fishing boat, but the idea of breaking the monotony now and then with an adventure did charm him.

“—and that’s why you can never trust a wandering trader.” A tentative smile hung on Herobrine’s face, waiting for Steve to react.

Steve returned the smile, both an acknowledgement of the punchline and his absentmindedness. “Sorry, sorry. I was just thinking about what this means.” He waved his hand between them. “All of this.”

Herobrine traced the grain of the crafting table next to him. “I wish I knew. As I said earlier, I don’t know how I’m here either. For many years I couldn’t leave, and then not too long ago…” He dropped his hand. “I could.”

Steve still had questions, but Herobrine stood and looked out the glassless window. “It is too late for now. You must sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He nodded towards the window. “Those monsters won’t be bothering us anymore.” And with that, he was gone.

Steve rose to his feet before sitting on the edge of his bed, the weight of the situation finally sinking in. The world was infinitely larger than he had ever dreamed. He had all the time in the
world to do all he never could as a child. Herobrine was real, he had broken free of his coding, and the first thing he had done was help Steve.

This final thought pressed on his mind as he lay down, stared at his ceiling, and waited for sleep to overtake him.