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Once upon a time, in an unknown dimension, there were three friends exploring in the wilderness, mining for resources.
Two of the friends owned a house on the edge of a beach, inviting the third friend over to stay with them. The third friend was new to this strange land, and happily accepted the offer because he knew nothing else. All his safety lied at the three story stone fortress that loomed above the mysterious waters a short distance away.
As the hours grew old and the sun started to slink into the horizon infinite coordinates away, the three friends decided their mining was best to be continued in the morning. The two friends who owned the stone fortress, experienced survivalists, told the third friend of the horrors that lay after dark. Creatures of all shapes and forms crept along the grounds all hours of the day, but the very worst came out at night.
As the three friends made their way back to the fortress, there was a very peculiar sound coming from somewhere in the dark. Not wanting to risk losing all their resources they had just gathered that day, the friends hurried towards the fortress as fast as their blocky feet could carry them, hearts beating like war drums.
The fortress was in sight...they were almost there...all they had to do was reach that torchlit porch and hurry through that double door... They could not stop running. More and more hostile creatures could be heard around them, alerted to their presence. Why hadn't they brought weapons?
But just when hope seemed to have died, the friends somehow made it to the fortress and shut themselves in immediately, celebrating their successful escape from the hostile wilderness in the inky blackness. Oh they celebrated...the two of them.
It wasn't long before they realized the third, inexperienced friend was nowhere to be found. The third friend had been attacked somewhere in that adrenaline filled journey, and suffered a grim defeat. Sure, he would respawn again momentarily, but where? The two friends mourned shortly in the loss of their friend, and were eager for his quick return.
- - -
The third friend woke up, still hearing his screams echo through his mind. He found himself at the top of an icy mountain, nowhere even remotely close to the other two friends. He had no map. His resources were gone. Everything he had worked for the previous day was completely non-existent.
The night was still at its prime on that snowy peak, the moon still high overhead. He had to do something, and it wasn't trying to locate his long lost buddies.
Down the mountain he traveled, hearing those familiar hostile voices call to him over and over again. Soon the foliage turned to water, which was covered in ice. Without thinking, the friend stepped on the ice and ran across it, never stopping or looking back. Fortunately, ice held his weight perfectly.
For many hours in the night, the man ran across the ice, simply hoping to escape the horrors of that forsaken land. Eventually, he came across another island with a neat water filled cave on the snow packed beach. The whole island was covered in snow, completely treeless but crawling with resources.
But resources weren't the only thing the island was crawling with. New sounds and glowing red eyes were staring him down in the distance, steadily making their way towards him. There had to be at least four different types of monsters this time, because they were all moving in different patterns. All around the friend, the creatures were closing in upon him. He had to choice--he had to flee to the water filled cave.
At lightning speed, the horrified friend fled to the cave. He could hear the ringing of laughter in his ears by his friends, who were safe and content in their torchlit mansion. As the third friend dug away, hastily covering every inch of the cave with sand to block out the monsters, he fully realized how alone he really was.
One of the creatures, a huge hairy spider, managed to climb in before the friend could successfully cover the whole perimeter in sand. Barely alive, the friend defeated the giant beast with his bare hands. Without hesitation, he put in the last blocks of sand so he was completely walled off by the horrible monsters. He could hear the frustration of the monsters all along the outside of the cave, not knowing where their vulnerable prey had just escaped to.
As the third friend stood there, motionless and silent, he knew a monstrous task was going to come upon him at the dawn of the next day. He was alone...out here in a frozen wasteland, with nothing but the clothes on his back. His friends were far, far away, busy with their own lives, feebly thinking the third friend was somehow going to miraculously visit them soon.
But he wasn't...he couldn't. Not yet at least.
Suddenly, a fresh feeling of hope struck his heart, like he had just been pierced with a angelic arrow.
He was going to build the greatest fortress this dimension ever knew. He would mine for weeks and weeks for any materials he could find. He was going to craft until he put his friends' creations to shame.
As the sun finally emerged in the east, declaring a new day, the third friend felt the first smile spread across his face. Because he knew, no matter what, he was going to survive.
Among all the monsters.
With his own two hands.
On Death Island.
That's great.
