Stephan

Prologue - Quiet

He was running.

What was he running from? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was terrified beyond belief. Each breath was sharp in his lungs, misting in the pitch-blackness he barreled through in his blind rush for freedom. He hoped with all he had that on the other end would be safety, but the darkness never changed, only grew deeper and deeper.

Each footstep echoed as if in an endless tunnel, or... was that a matching set of footsteps, just behind him? He couldn't be sure until the teeth nipped at his heel, and he pitched forwards with a cry, chin slamming into the cold floor. He twisted, arms thrown out to defend himself, but it was pointless as black jaws closed around his wrists, and pain shot up through his arms.

He jerked awake.

Steve's eyes flew open, and he threw a hand behind him to brace himself, finding himself already sitting up. With a little huff, his eyes flickered to his left, searching for the pair of glowing, white eyes that should imply his housemate sleeping in the bed beside his. There were none.

Herobrine was gone, again, then.

Steve sighed, brushing a sweaty lock of hair out of his eyes before reaching down to fumble in a barrel beside his bed. His fingers met only empty bottles, and he glanced down, scowling at the sight of his empty stash. A glance at the other side of the room confirmed that yes, he would have to brew more potions if he wanted to sleep tonight. So, he dragged himself from bed, rubbing the frightening images from his eyes before crossing the room to the brewing stands. He was really not looking forward to getting up the next morning exhausted and with a headache, but with Herobrine gone and the farm needing care he didn't have much of a choice.

It had been almost four months, now, since he and Herobrine had been reinstated in their home, which he had initially assumed in his naivety would make life go back to normal. The knee-jerk reactions and nightmares from their time in what they had now dubbed as 'the lab' affected them on a daily basis, and the fact that their world had effectively lost several years was at the least, off-putting, and at worst quite inconvenient. It was worth it, of course, to have his home (and Joe) back, but...

Steve scooped three bottles full of water from a cauldron next to the furnaces, placing them into one of the brewing stands and sprinkling blaze powder over them. He found his gaze drifting to the windows as he fumbled a fermented spider eye into the funnel, as if searching for any sign of Herobrine's return. More out of guilt, though, than longing. He knew the elder did not approve of his habit.

It was unlikely that Herobrine would return until the next evening at least, though. He worked with Notch for most of his time, trying to track and take down the group that bought and experimented on them several months ago. While they were, as far as they knew, the only truly sentient AIs that existed, an organization that did not hesitate to harm them despite their obvious sentience would probably not see hurting other people as much worse. So, they worked.

Herobrine would tell him about their progress sometimes, but it didn't seem like they were making much. What he did say was vague enough that Steve didn't really understand it, so he would just nod and let him rant. He was glad it was a job that he didn't have to do, and of course he was glad Herobrine was, but it was lonely without him.

The sound of the brewing stand alerted him that the weakness potions were finished, and he methodically removed them from their perch, stopping up the bottles and placing them back in the barrel. He mixed half of one with a bottle of water, draining it, before he crawled back into bed. He was trying to stop, at least. It would be easier if Herobrine were there.

The miner buried his face in his pillow, squeezing it with both hands in an attempt to stave off further nightmares. He breathed in, then out, filling his head with thoughts of chores and other things that needed done around the farm. He had left a bowl of dough to rise overnight, that needed punched down as soon as he got up in the morning, and his wheat was nearly ready to harvest... he should bring a gift to Joe's family, it was their oldest's birthday soon, wasn't it? He had lived through this birthday already, though she had liked the present he brought last time. Maybe he could bring some trinkets for her brothers and sisters (brother and sister? How many children did they have at this point?) as well...

As the potion worked its magic, Steve drifted off to sleep again, only to be met with the same, awful dream.