The sphere flew downwards rapidly, with a comet like tail trailing behind it, a ridiculously beautiful last sight for those who were about to die from it.
The burning white sphere connected with the ground, and the pure white flames spread, burning at a temperature of a million degrees Celsius. The fire spread, lighting up everything it touched, and dear Notch, did it reach the TNT cannons?
The TNT cannons promptly exploded, causing more damage to the once glorious city.
The soldiers and cavalry toppled like bowling pins, their armour and horses instantly charred at an unrecognizable rate, those to took the worst of it were even vaporized entirely, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and molten iron.
His pickaxe appeared in his hand, as he flew down and scythed down everything and everyone that came near, laughing once again with insanity as his pickaxe sunk into his victims with satisfying thunks. And the cries of the wounded was the best thing he had ever heard.
Blood and guts flew everywhere before him as he flashed his pickaxe, a whirlwind of destruction, and a mere blur of glacial blue. He took out several opponents in less than a second, but he was confused. Where was the rest of the people? There were supposed to be more, in such a big city. In fact, the number of guards, sentries, soldiers and even calvary were less than usual.
He grabbed a soldier," Where are the rest of the people?"
The soldier only sneered at him.
Herobrine shook him harder like a rag doll," Where are they?" He demanded, his eyes flashed a brighter white for a second, and for some reason his anger seemed to scare the soldier. His hard expression gave way to uneasiness, and that gave away to panic.
"I am going to ask one more time," Herobrine hissed, holding him up in a chokhold," Where. Are. They?"
The soldier only gurgled a few words, and Herobrine released him. He collapsed in a heap on the ground, and as he tried to crawl away, Herobrine kicked him hard in the ribs, earning a loud crack and a loud yell of pain from the soldier.
"Steve's castle," he spluttered, as blood spurted out of his mouth.
"Thanks," Herobrine sliced his head off without even looking back. The severed head of the soldier rolled down the gravel path, an expression of extreme fear and surprise clearly written on it. Herobrine kept walking.
He went on picking on people for who knows how long, before he once again fired bolts of fire, burning the once vibrant and ever buzzing city to the ground.
"Master Israphel, I have completed my task," Herobrine thought to his master.
"Good," he replied immediately, "now bring your mobs and meet me at the gates of the Aether."
"Yes Master," he said, and the connection was severed. He then teleported to the Aether, and stood before the enormous gates made of quartz, where the other two were waiting.
"Where is Inksack?" Herobrine asked Entity, who shrugged.
"Null is at the End," Israphel said," in case someone, ah, wanted to take over it. He is there to make sure it is safe."
"I see," Herobrine said.
" Where are your mobs?" Israphel questioned, his deep crimson eyes eerily unnerving to Herobrine, naturally sending shivers down his spine. The Devil did exist to inspire fear, after all.
Herobrine spread his arms, and his Nether army was ready, with Zombie Pigmen, Magma Cubes, Ghasts, Blazes, and Wither Skeletons. Israphel nodded, and the three, along with the Nether mob army, marched up to the closed gates of the Aether, and even the heavenly realm seemed to tremble at the trio's presense.
YOU ARE READING
The Legend of Herobrine
FanfictionPREQUEL TO THE HYBRIDS OF TEAM CRAFTED SERIES After the creation of Minecraftia, Brine was created. Notch called him his brother, and made him immortal. Brine strived to be as good as Notch, to protect the blocky realm from threats that threaten to...
