The control the ender dragon has over the hostile mobs has gone out of control. When a group of warriors fight to regain peace, all their lives depend on one who is hated throughout the world. Both minecraft and real life.

"I've... Died?" The Snow Girl choked. She clutched her heart, and fell to her knees, looking at the ground. "Ah, nay child. I am the one who determines this. You see, in your reality, one can be judged by their death to determine if they may be granted second life." The Snow Girl looked up at her. "What?" She whispered. "Yes. Most often, one is not granted this. If it is an old man who died in his rocking chair, he's had a long lived life, and now deserves to rest. If it is a child in their first day of spawning, they now are able to run, play, and live eternally, never knowing the unforgiving pain one suffers throughout life. You players don't realize that dying, is not death. Living is not life, either. Once you have died, you never again have to fear of dying again." The Snow Girl stood up, forgetting her numbness she was in from her shock. "What about the evil people in the world? They forever live eternal happiness?" "Child, I never said that you forever live in happiness. I said that you live eternally in your soul. If you were a kind, and good person, you forever live in the goodness of your soul. If you were an evil, wicked person, you forever dwell in the wickedness of your soul, feeling ever so much more pain and suffering than you ever could when you were alive. You are more alive in death than in life." The Snow Girl looked around her, at the cold beautify and tranquility of her own soul. "And I will live eternality here?" "Yes, you shall. But not yet, child. In your case of death, you still have far to much to do in your life before you leave it forever. You will not die yet." "What do I have that must be done? Many children spawn in Minecraftia everyday. One in particular on goes a transformation that will last forever.

A small baby girl cried out into the night, her voice filled with sorrow and terror. The scenes being played out around her crib scared her and the searing pain on her shoulder and forehead burned. It felt like her arm was being ripped apart and her head burned with a hot iron poker. As a one year old she didn't understand the battle for life happening before her but she did understand that her family was in danger and hurt. The noises were loud but the crying wasn't only coming from her, but also from her brother lying beside her. This is Lexie's journey, a tale of self discovery, a tale of learning about who she really is. Join her on her path of saving the people she loves, while falling in love.