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it’s… quiet. there’s no laughing, no screaming, no running. no plotting for revenge, or battles for land. there’s cracks in buildings, and the doorknobs are rusted. windows are shattered. everything has a thick layer of dust.
but the lights are still on. redstone contraptions and doors still work, torches are still lit. homes somehow don’t feel abandoned. it’s obvious that no human has occupied these spaces for years but something else has filled their absence; pet food bowls are clean and regularly filled, flowers are flourishing and animals are being fed. holes and gaps have been repaired. animals are still being brushed, exercised, and played with. crops are watered, farmland is being maintained.
somehow, in the absence of humans, beings reliant on them have not perished. the honey farm is still being taken care of, no overflowing honey or honeycomb is to be seen. the hound army are well fed and given proper attention, even mars is swimming happily. kinoko kingdom’s library is pristine, sturdy leather covers without a crack. even tina’s cats nap peacefully in the rays of the sun.
this land has seen everything. from new friendships, domestic mornings, and long lasting memories, to heartbreak, betrayal, and war. memories are buried deep within the soil, which no amount of digging can remove. the good and the bad live on in the branches on trees, blades of grass, the oxygen that you breathe. no matter where you go, you cannot escape the history that was forged so very long ago. many of the people who lived here wish to forget. some have been forgotten. but someone is fighting to keep it alive.
it’s no secret that important things have happened. so many life-changing events have altered the course of so many people’s lives. legacies have been created, reputations have been destroyed. so many projects which people have poured their blood, sweat, and tears into, destroyed with a few pieces of tnt. tears have been shed, blood has been spilled, yet every memory is so important to someone unknown, that they have stayed behind. even if that means they’ll be completely alone. but maybe that was their goal all along, to be left alone.
as valuable as friendship and companionship may be, everyone needs time to themselves. time to recharge and refresh, or to work on personal growth. whether that be by polishing weapons, tending to livestock, reading ancient texts, or practicing their aim; no one can be a social butterfly all hours of the day. another way some tend to spend their time alone is by building projects. building an island in the middle of the ocean by scratch, statues devoted to higher beings, or completely gutting and replacing a biome.
this land that used to be called home has grown so much. whether it be by human manipulation, or by natural adaptation. mountains have been leveled, rivers filled in, trees chopped down to build houses. so much has been taken, but so much has been given. beautiful cliffs to watch the sunset and listen to music, lakes to make fishing docks, tall trees to see the ocean for miles.
it’s odd you see, even though this land has been long abandoned, if you were to walk past a house you’d see a chimney smoking, or curtains moving if you’re lucky. no one has visited these
lands since t̴̟̬͉͕̀̌͌̀͑h̸̦̮̳̥̎͌̇̏̈́e̴͍͕̯̠̜͆ ̸̛̣͕̱͎̓͐̈́́f̴̛͈i̸̮̖̭͙͋̉̈́̔ͅn̴͔̲͈̎̅͐̆̕a̸͉̦̹̟̣͂̐l̸̡̗̫̅́ ̵̻͆b̴͈̖̣̩̳̓͛̊̀a̸̠̥̋̔t̷̨͍̗̀̊ţ̸̯͐͜l̵̼̹͉̮̙̈́̂̀̐e̷̳͌͊͘ , except one person. but calling them a person would be too generous.
an entity, an apparition, in search of a host. but they will never find one, as their corporeal form has served its duty. the bodies hands and weapons have left scars to last a millennia, their words carving themselves into craniums, but something even more impactful has been left. their memory, their legacy.
one could say they were a god, the best in their field. skill and dexterity to rival the greatest, and even then they manage to come out on top. some say they’re merciless or coldhearted, and that is the truth. to outsiders, they take no prisoners and let no one, not even god get in their way. once their mind is set, the only thing you can do is hope you aren’t caught in the crossfire.
this isn’t to say that they’re ruthless one hundred percent of their waking hours. incredible skill and wit aside, they too have hobbies like everyone else. messing with ethereal gods, managing a horde of blood-thirsty hounds, and planting potatoes. long voyages with neighbours to see if they truly are just a side character. never ending conversations with an internal entity, whose favourite letter seems to be ‘e’. no matter that they inhabit this land with no one else, they will always have someone (or something) to talk to.
there are many things tying this entity to this war-stricken land. it could be that they cannot leave, forever bound to roam empty pathways. some sick joke implemented by a less than pleased god. may it be nostalgia, craving the simplicity of easier times. times without constant second guessing, always keeping an eye in the back of their head in search of enemies. or could it be loyalty? this land has given this entity so much, whether that be by alliances or a feeling of belonging. but perhaps, this is home. a place that is welcoming and accepting.
if you were to stumble across this land, there are ways to figure out the identity of the entity that roams the beaten down pathways. they are, to say, one of the more well known inhabitants of the area. one that has faced tyranny, handled terrifying creatures, and even cheated death. but their name, one that turns heads, is something that everyone knows. their name bares resemblance to the crimson liquid they have spilled upon multiple occasions.
even after everyone has left, packed up their bags and moved on to the next adventure, they stayed. with his red cape, and golden crown, technoblade couldn’t bare to let this place rot.
“no matter how ridiculous the odds may seem, within us resides the power to overcome these challenges and achieve something beautiful. that one day, we'll look back at where we started and be amazed by how far we've come.”
-technoblade, 2019