The hum of his computer filled the dimly lit room like white noise, steady and familiar. Logan's fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard, the faint clack-clack sound keeping rhythm with the on-screen chaos. His character in Minecraft darted between pixelated trees, narrowly dodging an arrow from a hidden skeleton.
"Almost got me, huh?" he muttered, adjusting his headphones.
Outside, thunder rumbled. A summer storm rolled over the city, raindrops tapping insistently against his window. He glanced at the time: 2:43 AM.
"Okay, one more hour," he told himself. "Then I'll sleep."
The irony didn't escape him—he had said the same thing an hour ago. And the hour before that.
The modded survival server was the newest trend in his school's Discord group: full of experimental structures, AI-controlled mobs, and lore fragments scattered across custom-built dimensions. It was supposedly based on some obscure collection of creepypasta stories from early Minecraft mythos. Herobrine. Null. Entity 303. Stuff people used to whisper about on forums but never took seriously.
Logan didn't care about the horror side of it. He just loved the grind. Crafting. Fighting. Building. It was peaceful in its own chaotic way.
He spotted a nearby village, partially loaded in, with crooked rooftops and flickering torches. The lighting was off—some parts looked frozen, while others pulsed faintly like dying embers. Curious, Logan walked his character closer. The game stuttered.
Chunk error? he thought, tilting his head.
Then everything stopped.
The game froze. His cursor refused to move. His character stood still, staring into the void at the village's edge.
A message blinked onto the screen.
[WARNING: Unauthorized Player Detected][System Overlap: Initiating Transfer Protocol...]
"What the hell?" Logan leaned forward.
[Player: LOGAN_ entered a restricted zone.][Preparing World Integration.]
The screen burst into static.
His speakers screeched.
The monitor flared white.
And the room vanished.
—
The sensation wasn't like falling. It wasn't like flying either. It was... reassembling.
Logan's body tingled, dissolved, and reformed. Light flooded every direction, but not a warm light. It was clinical, artificial—like fluorescent bulbs in an endless void. He tried to scream, but his voice didn't work. He didn't even feel his mouth.
Then, darkness.
A breeze.
And grass.
Real grass.
Logan gasped and sat up with a sudden jolt. He stared at his hands—blocky. Smooth. Familiar. Minecraft hands.
"What the...?"
He looked around.
Everything was... pixelated.
Trees with perfect square leaves. A dirt path leading into a clearing. A chicken bobbing its head, walking in perfect ninety-degree turns.
"No way," Logan whispered. "No freaking way."
He stood slowly. His legs moved stiffly, like moving through molasses. He could feel his body, but not like in the real world—it was as if his muscles followed code instead of nerves. He raised his hand and saw a standard starting item appear: a wooden pickaxe.
"Inventory," he muttered on instinct.
A translucent screen popped open in front of him. His starting gear was basic: a wooden sword, a few cooked porkchops, some torches, and an odd-looking compass labeled:
[Objective Tracker v0.0.1]
And then, a familiar tone—like the sound when you complete an achievement.
[System Detected: World-Class Survival Mode Initialized][Daily Log-In Bonus Granted][Quest Received: Establish First Shelter]
The message faded.
"What is this? A game? No… I was just at my desk—this is way too real." Logan's voice echoed strangely.
A part of him wanted to believe this was a dream. Or maybe a new VR tech prank. But the wind was cold. The smell of grass was sharp. The hunger meter in the corner of his vision dipped slightly. It was all too consistent to be fake.
And he remembered the message: World Integration. This wasn't a glitch. Something pulled him here.
He opened the compass. It buzzed faintly and projected a faint light toward the northwest. A marker appeared in his vision: "Nearest Shelter Site: 237m"
With no better plan, Logan started walking.
—
The forest was hauntingly quiet. Not in a peaceful way, but in a something-is-watching-me way. He could hear the occasional spider clicking from above. Distant zombie groans. Every sound felt magnified.
He found a partially collapsed hut near a riverbank, made of stone and mossy logs. It looked abandoned for years.
[You have discovered: Forgotten Shelter][Tutorial Mode Complete. Full Integration Unlocked.]
Suddenly, the world shook.
The trees rippled. A digital pulse moved across the sky like a scan beam.
[New System Directive Unlocked.][Main Quest: Locate and Defeat All Bosses][Note: Bosses are scattered across dimensions and hidden deep within the System's corrupted structure.]
Another message followed.
[Optional: Aid Local Villagers to strengthen settlements. Their survival strengthens yours.]
Logan stared, heart pounding.
Dimensions? Bosses? Corruption?
This wasn't just Minecraft anymore.
It was something else.
And he was stuck inside it.
He turned around and noticed something burning faintly in the trees. Red eyes.
A mob? No—it wasn't moving.
A figure.
Still. Watching.
White eyes glowing.
Logan took a step back.
And just like that, it was gone.
No footsteps. No sounds. Just vanished.
He swallowed hard.
"Okay," he muttered. "Herobrine? Entity 303? Null? Is that what this is?"
His inventory pinged again.
[Hint Unlocked: Mini-Bosses drop Clues to Major Boss Locations][Survive. Upgrade. Fight. Save the World.]
He looked at the hut.
And he looked at his hands.
"No more logging out. No more checkpoints," he said quietly. "If this is the world now… then I'll play to win."
He set down his first torch.
And the firelight pushed back the darkness.
Just a little.