People run in all directions, screaming and crying, parents trying to protect their children and themselves.

Fires burn, destroying buildings and gardens, while balls of fire rain from the sky. Lightning cracks the night sky, and although it night, it is not dark.

Some try to distinguish the fire, some try to stand up against he who causes the destruction. Those foolish enough to do so are quickly dealt with.

One lone figure hovers in the air, pure white eyes lighting his face where the fire does not. He smiles at the destruction, at the fear he is causing.

"Father?" A voice rings in his mind, and he turns to see a child, only nine years of age. "Can I help?"

"Not tonight," The man replies, flying over to meet his child, on a small platform of a mountain. "When you're older."

"You said that three years ago," the child argues gently. "When will I be old enough to help destroy?"

"Soon, young one," the father explains. "Now, why don't you return home?"

Unsatisfied with the response, the child refuses to obey.

"Why, so you can have fun without me?" They snap, and the man grows confused. "You come out here so often without me, I may as well live with the mortals."

"Mortals are unsafe, my child," he tries to say, however the child has had enough. "Please, just return to our Nether home,"

"They wouldn't know!" Lightning crackles at the child's fingertips, alerting their father of their anger. "You wouldn't ever dare let a mortal know you're a father!"

Sensing the presence of an approaching mortal, the man tries to calm the child.

"You know what, I've had it with you!" They shout, and he takes a frightened step back. "I will live with the mortals."

"My child, please, no!" The man tries to call the child back, however,

"I won't let anyone know. Anyone would be ashamed of me anyway, if they found out I'm the child of Herobrine..."