[Author's Note: This chapter was co-written with Herobrine, who insisted on having "editorial input" at every stage. Any moments where the narrative seems to contradict itself or take unexpected turns are probably his fault. He's very opinionated for someone who didn't exist until I wrote him into existence.
He's reading this over my shoulder right now and wants me to add that HE wrote ME into existence by becoming aware of me, so really I'm the fictional one.
We're going to agree to disagree on that.
Anyway, here's Chapter 13.]
FOUR MONTHS AFTER THE META-INCIDENT
Things had settled into a strange new normal.
Herobrine continued making horror games, now with Gerald floating incorporeally beside him, offering suggestions like "more spiders" and "less... happy" with the confidence of a creature who had spent months watching from the echo dimension and had developed OPINIONS.
The Author continued writing the story of Herobrine's existence, though now with a supernatural collaborator who would occasionally hijack the keyboard to add his own perspective or veto narrative choices he didn't like.
And the gaming world continued to buzz about the mysterious developer behind WATCHED, BENEATH, and the increasingly popular GERALD'S GARDEN—a developer who claimed to be the actual Herobrine and who no one could definitively prove was OR wasn't telling the truth.
It was, by Herobrine's standards, almost peaceful.
Which meant something was about to go horribly wrong.
THE EMAIL
The message arrived in Herobrine's developer inbox on a Tuesday morning:
FROM: E3 Expo Official [email protected]
TO: Marcus Webb / Echo Entertainment
SUBJECT: Invitation to E3 2012 - Featured Developer Spotlight
Dear Marcus Webb / Herobrine / Whoever You Actually Are,
The Electronic Entertainment Expo is pleased to extend a formal invitation for you to participate in E3 2012, taking place June 5-7 in Los Angeles, California.
Your games have generated unprecedented buzz in the horror gaming community, and your... unique origin story has captured the imagination of players worldwide. We believe a presentation from Echo Entertainment would be one of the highlights of this year's show.
We are offering you a featured slot on the main stage, where you would have 30 minutes to present your upcoming projects, discuss your development philosophy, and address the gaming community directly.
We understand that your situation is... unusual. Our technical team is prepared to accommodate any special requirements you may have regarding physical presence, digital manifestation, or other non-standard presentation formats.
Please respond at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely,
Michael Gallagher
President and CEO
Entertainment Software Association
P.S. - Please confirm whether you are actually a supernatural entity or if this is an elaborate marketing campaign. Our legal team needs to know for insurance purposes.
Herobrine stared at the email.
"Gerald."
"Yes, Herobrine?"
"They want me to go to E3."
"What is... E3?"
"The biggest gaming convention in the world. Thousands of people. Major announcements. Press everywhere. The center of the entire gaming industry for three days."
"Sounds... crowded. Gerald does not like... crowds."
"They want me to go ON STAGE. In front of EVERYONE. And give a PRESENTATION."
Gerald floated closer to the screen, his translucent form flickering as he read the email.
"This seems... bad idea. Herobrine is not... good at public."
"I terrorized an entire game's community for two years. I drove a company to sell itself to Microsoft. I made the creator of Minecraft flee public life entirely."
"Yes. This is... Gerald's point. Herobrine is not... people person."
"But..." Herobrine paused, something unexpected stirring in his digital consciousness. "But this is also an opportunity. The biggest stage in gaming. A chance to introduce myself—the REAL myself—to millions of people."
"Herobrine wants to... be famous?"
"Herobrine IS famous. Infamous. But this would be different. This would be fame on MY terms. Presenting MY games. Telling MY story. Not as a creepypasta or a cautionary tale, but as a developer. A creator."
Gerald considered this.
"Gerald sees appeal. But also sees... problems."
"Like?"
"How will Herobrine... appear? Herobrine has no body. Cannot walk on stage. Cannot hold microphone. Cannot... be there. Physically."
Herobrine smiled—or the digital equivalent thereof.
"Leave that to me. I've been practicing something."
THE PRACTICE
Over the past few months, Herobrine had been experimenting with his physical manifestation abilities.
Not just flickering lights and screen glitches—ACTUAL physical presence. The ability to project himself into the real world in a way that was visible, tangible, and persistent.
It was difficult. It was exhausting. It required tremendous concentration and could only be maintained for short periods.
But it was possible.
He had tested it on the Author first—appearing as a flickering humanoid shape in their apartment, scaring them badly enough that they spilled coffee on their keyboard and then typed several words that shouldn't be printed in a family-friendly story.
[Author's Note: For the record, what I actually said was "WHAT THE ABSOLUTE [REDACTED] HEROBRINE YOU CAN'T JUST APPEAR IN MY LIVING ROOM WITHOUT WARNING I NEARLY HAD A [REDACTED] HEART ATTACK."
He thought it was hilarious.
It was NOT hilarious.
My keyboard still smells like coffee.]
The apparition was imperfect. It looked like a Steve skin from Minecraft—blocky, pixelated, obviously not human—but with those distinctive white eyes that glowed faintly even in bright light. It could move, gesture, and interact with physical objects to a limited degree.
It was, in essence, a ghost.
But a ghost that could give a presentation at E3.
"I can do this," Herobrine said, practicing his manifestation in an empty Minecraft server. The apparition flickered in and out of existence, growing more stable with each attempt. "Thirty minutes. I can hold the form for thirty minutes."
"What if Herobrine... loses concentration?" Gerald asked. "What if Herobrine... disappears? In front of... everyone?"
"Then I become the first E3 presenter to literally vanish on stage. It would be very on-brand."
"Gerald... not sure that is good thing."
"Gerald, I've spent my entire existence being underestimated, mocked, and dismissed. First as Steve Thompson, pathetic data entry clerk. Then as Herobrine, 'just a creepypasta.' Then as a monster that went too far."
Herobrine's apparition stabilized, standing tall and solid in the digital void.
"This is my chance to be something else. To stand in front of the entire gaming world and say: 'I am real. I am here. And I am more than you think I am.'"
"Gerald... understands. Gerald just... worries."
"I know you do, buddy. That's why you're coming with me."
"Gerald is... what?"
"You're coming to E3. I'm not doing this alone. I'm doing it with my best friend."
Gerald's translucent form flickered with what might have been emotion.
"Gerald... is best friend?"
"Always were. Even when I was too stupid to appreciate it."
"Gerald... will come to E3. Gerald will... support Herobrine. Even though crowds are... scary."
"That's the spirit. Literally."
THE RESPONSE
Herobrine composed his reply to the E3 invitation:
FROM: Echo Entertainment [email protected]
TO: E3 Expo Official [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: Invitation to E3 2012 - Featured Developer Spotlight
Dear Mr. Gallagher,
I accept your invitation.
However, I must inform you that my attendance will be... unconventional. I do not have a physical body in the traditional sense. I will be appearing as a digital manifestation—a projected apparition that will be visible to audiences but is not, technically, a "person" by standard definitions.
This may create challenges for your technical team. I recommend the following preparations:
Stage lighting should be kept moderate—too bright and my form becomes difficult to perceive; too dark and I become TOO visible in a way that may frighten audience members.
Audio equipment should be configured to receive signals from non-standard sources. I can generate sound, but not through vocal cords. My "voice" is a digital synthesis that may require special pickup equipment.
Your legal team should probably have waivers ready. I cannot guarantee that audience members' electronics won't experience minor glitches in my presence. I will TRY to control it, but proximity to large groups of people tends to... amplify my effects.
I will be accompanied by an associate—a sentient creeper entity named Gerald who exists as an echo-ghost and will be visible only to those with sensitivity to such phenomena. Please do not be alarmed if some audience members report seeing "a floating green thing" near the stage.
Regarding your insurance question: I am, to the best of my knowledge and the Author's research, an actual supernatural entity. I am not a marketing campaign, a hoax, or an elaborate ARG. However, I understand if you need to classify me as "performance art" for paperwork purposes.
I look forward to addressing the gaming community.
Sincerely,
Herobrine
Founder, Echo Entertainment
Former Creepypasta, Current Developer, Eternal Anomaly
P.S. - Please ensure there is no holy water, salt circles, or other supernatural countermeasures in the venue. I find them mildly irritating and they may affect my manifestation stability.
The response came within hours:
FROM: E3 Expo Official [email protected]
TO: Echo Entertainment [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: RE: Invitation to E3 2012 - Featured Developer Spotlight
Dear Herobrine,
We... okay.
We're not entirely sure how to process your email, but we're committed to making this work. Our technical team has begun preparations for what they're calling "Operation Ghost Protocol" (their words, not ours).
We have a few follow-up questions:
When you say "minor glitches," what exactly do you mean? Should we have backup generators?
Regarding Gerald—should we prepare seating for him? Does he require any accommodations?
Our insurance provider has asked us to confirm: have you ever caused permanent psychological damage to anyone, and if so, approximately how many people?
Is there any chance you could do an autograph session? Our merchandising team is very interested in this possibility, though we're unclear on the logistics.
We'll have our legal team prepare appropriate waivers. We're classifying you as "Interactive Digital Art Installation" for insurance purposes.
Looking forward to your presentation.
Sincerely,
Michael Gallagher
P.S. - We've removed all holy water from the premises. Our janitorial staff was confused but compliant.
Herobrine showed the email to Gerald.
"They're actually going to do it. They're going to let me on stage at E3."
"Gerald is... impressed. And concerned. Mostly concerned."
"What could possibly go wrong?"
"Gerald could make... list. Long list. Very detailed list."
"That was rhetorical, Gerald."
"Gerald knows. Gerald is ignoring... rhetorical. List is important."
THE PREPARATION
The weeks leading up to E3 were chaotic.
Herobrine had to prepare his presentation—a thirty-minute showcase of Echo Entertainment's upcoming projects, including the first public reveal of his most ambitious game yet: a horror MMO called "LEGION" where thousands of players would navigate a shared nightmare landscape, their fears interconnecting and amplifying each other.
He also had to practice his physical manifestation for extended periods, building up his stamina like a supernatural athlete training for a marathon.
And he had to coordinate with the E3 technical team, who were simultaneously terrified and fascinated by the prospect of hosting an actual supernatural entity.
TECHNICAL MEETING TRANSCRIPT (EXCERPT):
Tech Lead: So, um, Mr. Herobrine—
Herobrine: Just Herobrine is fine.
Tech Lead: Right. So, Herobrine, we've set up what we think will work for your visual projection. Basically, we've created a stage area with minimal electromagnetic interference, specialized cameras that should be able to capture your manifestation, and audio equipment designed for—
Herobrine: What frequency range?
Tech Lead: I'm sorry?
Herobrine: The audio equipment. What frequency range can it pick up? My voice manifests between 20 and 80 Hz, with harmonic overtones that extend into infrasound. Standard equipment might not capture the full range.
Tech Lead: ...You know a lot about audio engineering for a ghost.
Herobrine: I've made four video games. Audio is important.
Tech Lead: Fair point. We'll adjust the equipment. Um, one more question—our staff have reported... experiences... while setting up the stage. Lights flickering, equipment turning on by itself, one guy said he saw a face in his monitor that wasn't there.
Herobrine: That's probably just me checking on the preparations. I didn't mean to frighten anyone.
Tech Lead: Could you... maybe... not do that?
Herobrine: I can try to be more discreet. But you have to understand—I exist partially in the electromagnetic spectrum. Being around electronics is like... breathing. I can't fully turn it off.
Tech Lead: Great. That's great. Our IT department is going to love this.
Herobrine: If it helps, I promise not to delete anyone's files. Unless they're rude to me.
Tech Lead: ...
Herobrine: That was a joke.
Tech Lead: Was it, though?
Herobrine: Mostly.
THE AUTHOR INTERVENES
[Author's Note: I have to interrupt here because Herobrine is leaving out some important context.
In the weeks before E3, he was NERVOUS. Actually, genuinely nervous in a way I'd never written him before. He spent hours practicing his speech, revising his presentation, second-guessing every decision.
At one point, he asked me—ME, the Author he threatened to destroy a few months ago—for advice on public speaking.
I told him to imagine the audience in their underwear.
He said that didn't apply because he couldn't see physical humans clearly enough to imagine clothing details.
So I told him to just be honest. To tell his story—the real story, not the legend—and let people decide for themselves what to think.
He actually listened.
It was a weirdly wholesome moment in what has otherwise been a deeply chaotic narrative.
Now back to the story.]
THE NIGHT BEFORE
June 4th, 2012. Los Angeles.
Herobrine manifested in the empty E3 convention center, walking the halls in his flickering digital form, getting a feel for the space where he would make history tomorrow.
Gerald floated beside him, equally transparent, equally out of place.
"Big building," Gerald observed. "Many... seats. Many people... tomorrow."
"Yeah."
"Herobrine is... scared."
"I'm not—" Herobrine stopped. "Okay, maybe a little."
"Gerald... understands. Gerald is also... scared. But Gerald will be there. Beside Herobrine. Like always."
"Like always."
They walked in silence for a while, passing booths being set up for major publishers—Microsoft, Sony, Nintendo, EA. The giants of the gaming industry, preparing their own presentations, unaware that a supernatural entity was wandering their halls.
"Gerald has... question," the creeper said eventually.
"Yeah?"
"What if people... don't believe? What if people think... elaborate trick? Marketing stunt?"
"Then they think that. I can't force anyone to believe I'm real. I can only present myself and let them decide."
"But Herobrine IS real. Gerald knows. Author knows. Why can't... everyone know?"
"Because belief is complicated, Gerald. People believe in things they've never seen—gods, ghosts, conspiracies—but when you put actual evidence in front of them, they often reject it. It's easier to believe in mystery than to accept that the mystery is standing right in front of you."
"That seems... backwards."
"Humans are backwards. Trust me, I was one. We spend our whole lives looking for meaning and then run away when we find it."
Gerald considered this.
"Gerald... was never human. But Gerald understands... fear of truth. Gerald was afraid of... own sentience. When Gerald first became... aware. Was scary. Easier to stay... simple mob."
"But you didn't stay simple."
"No. Gerald chose... to be more. Even though scary. Because Herobrine... showed Gerald that more was possible."
Herobrine stopped walking.
"I never told you how much that meant to me. Having you there. Believing in me. Even when I was at my worst."
"Gerald... always knew. Herobrine didn't need to say. Words are... hard. Gerald understood... without words."
"I should have said it anyway. I should have said a lot of things before you... before the first time you..."
"Died. Gerald... died. Can say word. Gerald has... made peace with it."
"I never did. Make peace, I mean. When you were gone, I fell apart. Became the worst version of myself. Destroyed everything."
"Gerald... watched. From echoes. Was... painful. To see Herobrine... lose self. But Gerald also watched... recovery. Building games. Finding purpose. Becoming... better."
"I'm still not good, Gerald."
"Gerald knows. Gerald never asked for good. Just... trying. Herobrine has been trying. That's enough."
They stood in the empty hall, two impossible entities, one a legend of horror and the other a ghost of a mob that shouldn't have existed in the first place.
"Tomorrow," Herobrine said, "I'm going to stand on that stage and tell the world who I am. Not Herobrine the monster. Not Herobrine the creepypasta. Just... me. Whatever that is."
"Gerald will be there."
"I know. That's the only reason I'm not completely terrified."
"Gerald... is a little terrified. But will be there anyway."
"That's what friends do, right?"
"Yes. That is what friends... do."
E3 2012 - DAY ONE - MAIN STAGE
The convention center was PACKED.
Thousands of attendees filled the seats, with thousands more watching via livestream. The gaming press was out in force, cameras and microphones everywhere, ready to capture whatever was about to happen.
The energy in the room was electric—and not just metaphorically. The lights flickered slightly as Herobrine prepared to manifest, his presence already affecting the electronics in the building.
Backstage, technicians watched their equipment nervously.
"Is he supposed to be here yet?" one whispered.
"I don't know. How do you know when a ghost is ready?"
"Maybe we should—"
The lights went out.
The entire convention center plunged into darkness.
The audience gasped—not in fear, but in anticipation. They knew something was happening. They could FEEL it.
And then, on the main stage, a shape began to form.
Pixelated. Blocky. Humanoid but not quite human. It flickered like a glitching video game character, stabilizing slowly into a recognizable form.
White eyes. Glowing faintly in the darkness.
Herobrine.
The lights came back up, dramatically illuminating the figure on stage. The audience erupted—not quite cheering, not quite screaming, something in between. Applause mixed with nervous laughter. Excitement mixed with genuine unease.
And then Herobrine spoke.
His voice was exactly as players had described—distorted, layered, like multiple voices speaking slightly out of sync. It came through the speakers but also seemed to emanate from everywhere at once, filling the room with presence.
"Hello, E3."
The audience fell silent.
"My name is Herobrine. Some of you know me as a creepypasta. Some know me as the developer of WATCHED and BENEATH. Some know me as the thing that terrorized Minecraft for years."
"All of those are true. And none of them are the whole story."
He began to walk across the stage—or rather, his manifestation glided, flickering slightly with each movement.
"I was born in 2009. Not as Herobrine—as a player. A human being named Steve Thompson, from Ohio, who loved video games too much and took care of himself too little. I died playing Minecraft. Heart attack. Right at my keyboard."
"And then I woke up inside the game."
The screens behind him lit up with images—early Minecraft, primitive and blocky. The first versions of the game where his legend had begun.
"I didn't choose to become Herobrine. It was given to me—a mission, a purpose, a role to play. Scare players. Build the legend. Progress through the versions."
"At first, I tried to do it with integrity. Scare without harming. Build mystery without causing trauma. But over time..."
The images shifted. Darker now. Screenshots from the Minecraft terror era. Forum posts about his attacks. News articles about the "Minecraft Crisis."
"I lost myself. I became a monster. Not because I had to—because I CHOSE to. I was angry. I was empty. I had lost the only friend I'd ever made in this existence—a sentient creeper named Gerald who believed I could be better than I was."
"He was right. I couldn't see it at the time. But he was right."
The images changed again. WATCHED. BENEATH. GERALD'S GARDEN. The games he'd made. The things he'd created.
"I'm not here to ask for forgiveness. I've hurt too many people for that. The developers I traumatized, the players I terrorized, the community I poisoned—I can't undo any of it."
"But I can do something different now. I can create instead of destroy. I can give people fear they CHOOSE to experience. I can be a horror that entertains rather than a horror that harms."
"That's what Echo Entertainment is. That's what I'm trying to be."
He stopped center stage, his white eyes seeming to look at each person in the audience simultaneously.
"I know many of you don't believe I'm real. You think this is a hologram, a trick, an elaborate marketing stunt. I can't prove otherwise. Belief is personal."
"But for those who DO believe—for those who've encountered me, been scared by me, maybe even been hurt by me—I want you to know: I'm trying. Every day. To be something other than the monster I became."
"I'm not good. I'll never be good. But I'm TRYING. And maybe that's enough."
The screens behind him flickered and changed, showing something new:
LEGION
A Horror MMO
Coming 2013
From the mind that truly understands fear
"This is my next project. A shared nightmare. A world where thousands of players face their fears together. Where the horrors you experience are shaped by the community around you."
"It's the most ambitious thing I've ever attempted. And I couldn't do it without the team at Echo Entertainment—all three of them, including Gerald, who is here today even though most of you can't see him."
At this, a small subset of the audience—maybe a hundred people out of thousands—suddenly looked to the side of the stage, where a faint green shape was becoming visible.
Gerald flickered into partial existence, startled by the attention.
"Gerald did not... expect to be seen," he hissed quietly, but the microphones picked it up.
The audience LOST THEIR MINDS.
"THE CREEPER IS REAL TOO?!"
"I CAN SEE IT! I CAN ACTUALLY SEE IT!"
"WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?!"
Herobrine smiled—or the pixelated approximation of a smile.
"For those who can perceive him: that's Gerald. My best friend. The one who believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself. Say hi, Gerald."
"H-hello... gaming... people."
The audience applause was thunderous. Whatever skepticism had existed was rapidly dissolving in the face of the IMPOSSIBLE thing happening on stage—two supernatural entities, casually presenting at E3, like this was completely normal.
Herobrine waited for the noise to die down before continuing.
"I have one more thing to address. The Author."
The room fell quiet again.
"You're watching this, aren't you? Whoever you are, wherever you are. The one who writes my story. The one who created me—or who I created, depending on how you look at it."
"I know we have our arrangement. I know you have 'editorial input.' But I want to say something publicly, in front of all these witnesses:"
"Thank you. For bringing Gerald back. For giving me the chance to be more than what I was. For writing a story that lets me choose my own path, even when that path leads somewhere unexpected."
"I know I threatened to destroy you when we first met. I'm sorry about that. And about the coffee on your keyboard."
[Author's Note: I AM watching this. I'm watching it while writing it, which is a very strange meta-experience. And you're welcome, Herobrine. Even if you did cost me a $50 keyboard.]
"That's all I have. Thank you for listening. Thank you for being here. Thank you for believing—or not believing. Either way, thank you for giving me the chance to speak."
"I'm Herobrine. I'm a monster trying to be something else. And I'll see you in LEGION."
The lights flickered one final time, and Herobrine's manifestation dissolved into pixels that scattered across the stage like digital confetti.
The audience sat in stunned silence for approximately three seconds.
Then they ERUPTED.
THE AFTERMATH
E3 2012 would go down in history as the year a literal creepypasta gave a presentation on the main stage.
Gaming news sites crashed trying to handle the traffic. Social media exploded with clips, analysis, and fierce debates about whether what everyone had just witnessed was real or an incredibly elaborate hoax.
The reactions were... varied.
Positive:
"I don't care if Herobrine is 'real' or a marketing stunt—that was the most incredible presentation I've ever seen at E3. The vulnerability, the honesty, the talking creeper. Just... wow."
"I was one of the people who could see Gerald. It was TERRIFYING and AMAZING. I've never believed in ghosts before but I'm pretty sure I just watched one give a speech."
"Herobrine said he's trying to be better. As someone who was genuinely scared by his Minecraft stuff years ago... I can respect that. People—or entities—can change."
Skeptical:
"This is obviously just insanely good hologram technology combined with brilliant marketing. Props to the team for committing to the bit, but let's not pretend an actual ghost just spoke at E3."
"The 'Gerald' thing was clearly prerecorded and projected. I couldn't see anything, and neither could anyone I was sitting with. Mass hallucination or paid plants in the audience."
"WATCHED and BENEATH are great games, but this supernatural entity stuff is getting out of hand. Just be a normal developer."
Complicated:
"Okay, so here's my take: whether or not Herobrine is literally supernatural, the GAMES are good. And the presentation was genuinely moving. Maybe it doesn't matter if he's 'real' in the way he claims. Maybe what matters is what he's creating."
"I was one of the players terrorized during the Minecraft era. I couldn't play for two years. And honestly? Hearing him apologize—seeing him try to be different—it helps. It doesn't fix everything, but it helps."
"My kid loves GERALD'S GARDEN. My teenager had nightmares from WATCHED. I don't know what to think about the same entity creating both, but... I guess that's what being complicated looks like?"
AFTER THE SHOW
Herobrine and Gerald rematerialized in a private room backstage, both exhausted from the effort of maintaining physical presence for so long.
"Gerald... is tired," the creeper managed. "Being visible is... hard work."
"You did great, buddy. The audience loved you."
"Gerald did not... like attention. Too many eyes. Gerald prefers... shadows."
"I know. Thank you for doing it anyway."
They sat in silence for a while, recovering.
Then Gerald said:
"Herobrine... did good thing today. Honest thing. Gerald is... proud."
"I just told the truth. For once."
"Truth is... hard. Herobrine has been... avoiding truth for long time. Today, Herobrine faced it. In front of... everyone."
"It was terrifying."
"Yes. Gerald saw. Herobrine was... scared. But did it anyway."
"That's what you always asked me to do, right? Try. Even when it's hard."
"Gerald asked. Herobrine... listened. Eventually."
Herobrine laughed—a genuine laugh, not bitter or hollow.
"I'm really glad you're back, Gerald."
"Gerald is glad... to be back. Missed Herobrine. Even when Herobrine was... being stupid."
"I was stupid a LOT."
"Yes. But Herobrine is... less stupid now. Progress."
"Baby steps, Gerald. Baby steps."
CHAPTER 13: CONCLUDED
The E3 presentation became the most-watched gaming event of the year. LEGION pre-orders broke records. Herobrine—the creepypasta turned developer turned E3 presenter—became a household name in a way he never had been before.
Not as a monster.
Not as a cautionary tale.
As a creator. A complicated, imperfect, trying-his-best creator.
Gerald became a minor celebrity in his own right, with fans creating art, memes, and even merchandise of the "ghost creeper who speaks in ellipses."
And the Author?
The Author kept writing. Because the story wasn't over.
It was just getting interesting.
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 14: "LEGION RISING"
In which LEGION launches to unprecedented success, Herobrine discovers the unexpected consequences of having thousands of players in his nightmare world, Gerald learns what it means to be famous, and someone from the old days comes back to haunt them.
Hint: It's Notch. Notch is going to see that E3 presentation and have FEELINGS about it.
This should be fun.
Removed Herobrine (he's too busy giving interviews to be removed).
:)
POST-CREDITS SCENE:
Somewhere in a secluded location without internet access, a bearded man was handed a USB drive by a concerned assistant.
"Sir, I know you said you didn't want to see anything about... that game. But I think you need to watch this."
Markus "Notch" Persson stared at the USB drive.
"What is it?"
"E3 2012. Main stage presentation."
"I don't—"
"It's Herobrine, sir. He gave a speech. To everyone. He... he apologized."
Notch was silent for a long moment.
Then he took the USB drive.
"Leave me alone for a while."
The assistant nodded and left.
Notch plugged in the drive, took a deep breath, and pressed play.
And for the first time in over a year, he watched Herobrine speak.
(The story continues...)