To hate and attack

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The glass of wine shattered the very second in his now clenched hand, dripping to the carpet. White eyes were wide, staring at the screen with complete shock before it turns to complete anger, and Herobrine growled lowly at his brother, looking very, very angry.

'Brother, please,' Notch quickly continued. 'I'm really busy lately; that's why I called around half a year once... I thought you'd be lonely, so I made an unplayable Steve to be your friend. He never heard your false stories, so you guys can befriend each other. Besides, you'll learn to be less violent this way.'

Herobrine hissed loudly at the remark. Friends? Bah! He does not need one, nor do they need him anyway. Balling his bleeding fist, he clicked his tongue, showing his complete distaste of this horrible idea.

'Brother, what else must I do?' Notch sighed, a hand ran across his head. 'I can't come down there. I'll just be an avatar. I can't also spend my time 24/7 with you. You need a companion. Perhaps you can learn a lot from him.'

Seeing his brother's unchanged face, Notch exhaled deeply, his expression serious but still soft. 'Brother, I know your appearance and your liabilities make you hated. This 'Steve' I created will be your friend. He'll try to accept you whoever you are, since I bet there won't be others in that particular server, and it's limited so nobody else can enter.

'This is the only thing I can do to you as a brother. Soon, I will be going for a very long time, brother. I don't want you to be alone. Sides', you could use some fun and a friend, right? Try to bond with him, and don't scare him as well.'

Herobrine clicked his tongue again, looking away. How he hated his brother must be someone who 'absolutely ruled' over him.

'I have to go now. I shall send the IP to the server in some minutes. By then, I will not be at Sweden, so I really cannot contact you.' He smiled. 'Try to not make a bad impression of yourself, alright? And get that wound healed.'

The screen faded.

Herobrine looked at his hand, dripping with wine and blood. He shook his hand and it started to heal slowly, glass shards pushed out and dropping to the floor. Some zombies quickly enter to sweep it away, and left as fast as they enter. Herobrine sat on his throne again, a hand clasped over his forehead. The ticked-off face is still there. He contemplated about what Notch said, and he sighed.

Notch doesn't understand the problem here. Not like he hated him for creating Steve, but he just despises that look-alike miner a lot. By a lot, he meant he wish he could capture him, torture him endlessly just to see the human flailing and screaming and crying for mercy. Notch doesn't get it.

He was jealous of the 'new Steve'.

"Our plane leaves in five hours, just so you remember,"

"Okay..."

"Notch, are you sure this is a good idea?" Jeb raised an eyebrow, placing a mug of coffee on Notch's work desk. Notch sighed and rested his forehead on the palm of his hand, before massaging his nose bridge.

"I have no idea, Jeb," the Minecraft creator said. "This is a gamble."

Jeb sighed and patted Notch's shoulder.

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