The Player amongst Ponies

GaryGibbon here. I must say, I'm very, very happy about the support I've got for this story. Certainly better than the Arkhoof story, for sure. This was a bitch to write. Anyway, onwards!

Edit: Added more background.

BTW, as is best sentence starter.

Contrary to popular belief, there are more than 4 dimensions. Every action you make, every path you walk down, spawns another dimension in which something else happens, something different. In this way, one individual can spawn at least 5,00 new dimensions every day. Times that one individual by seven billion, and on average per day, 35 billion (or trillion if you use the short scale) new universes are spawned PER DAY.

That is quite a terrifying thought. And this isn't counting the actions of creatures in other dimensions.

Point is, there exists an infinite number of universes. And the multiverse cannot take the strain. So,if you know where to look and what to do, it is possible to cross the borders between the dimensions, or realms. Portals can be created anywhere in a dimension to access certain locations. However, others must be found, natural cracks in the dimensional continuum. Regardless, they act as bridges between dimensions. The dimensions are as diverse as they are infinite..Lands of pure metal, inhabited by silicon-based lifeforms with electric blood and artificial organs. Lands of vast desert, where the gravity reverses each season. Lands where oil has been replaced with steam. Truly, the dimensions are beautiful as they are deadly.

But, there are realms that are deemed so dangerous that all access is barred to them by the governing bodies of other dimensions. And one such realm is Enderrealm, known as The End.

It was once beautiful. The peaceful Endermen had strived to preserve the beauty of their fantastical domain. And succeeded they had. Vast cities of obsidian dotted the landscape, each building a breathtaking display of architecture. The night-time sky of dark ochre reduced many an extra-dimensional visitor to tears. Schools of magic sprung up, where the scholars of the Endermen picked apart the fabric of reality. And ruling it all with a benevolent yet tight claw, the Council of End. Under their rule, the Endermen prospered, an life was good.

But all good things must come to an end. The scientists and mages plucked too far, and too deep. They awoke It. From below the islands, The Great Enderdragon, The Almighty Arrar burst forth, and laid waste to the Endermen, plunging the realm into eternal darkness and slavery under his greedy realm. The cities were reduced to nothing but ruined pillars, cursed by Arrar to destroy all that touched it. The Endermen were forced to act as his warriors and slaves, attending to his borders. For as long as they can remember, they have been oppressed by this malignant entity, this blight upon Enderrealm.

And yet, the prophecies of the Scryers spoke of one, one who would cast Arrar down and free the Endermen. A greedy, self-centered capricious individual not of Enderrealm, the blood of a thousand Endermen on his hands, one that could shape the landscape but on a mere whim.

The Player would come to Enderrealm. And there would be a reckoning.

The Eye of Ender swirled.

The football-sized orb was agitated. The Powdered Blaze Rod inside shimmered and danced, throwing multicoloured patterns of light and fire around the inside of the Ender Pearl, causing heat to be made. The Player (for that was what they called him) held the orb uneasily, struggling to keep it from flying in the air. Just a few more miles, he thought wearily, one foot rising and falling in front of the other like a clockwork machine. How long had he been walking for? Days? Weeks? The nights and days blurred into each other like oils with water. He was slowly losing strength, and he knew it. But he had to keep pressing on.

Suddenly, the Eye started to physically vibrate with power, Blaze Rod clouds swirling like dust in the wind. The Player knew he couldn't hold on anymore. His fingers relaxed, and The Eye shot straight up into the sky like a thunderbolt, without moving. It stayed there, suspended by arcane magicks, and then as suddenly as it had started to vibrate, it stopped, falling to hit the loamy soil with a rich thunk noise. The Player's eyes widened. Every time he had released an Eye, it had gone in a direction, indicating which way to turn. But this. This was new. Perhaps he had done it? Found a way to the End? He brought out a shovel, wrought with pure diamonds, and slammed it against the soil. As expected, the dirt dissipated instantly, flowing away before reforming into a pile of mud on the side. Below this was yet more dirt. He hit the earth again, and again, and again. Then, he hit something else.

Moss covered stone bricks, neatly organized into distinct rows,supported his feet. The Player said nothing, but inside his mind, he was dancing. After these weeks of travel, he had finally done it! He had found a way to The End! And as a pickaxe penetrated the layers of stone and biomass, he smiled.

The bricks suddenly gave way to  a chamber, which he bodily fell into. As he picked himself up, he realised where he was.

The room was made from the same covered mossy bricks, with a steel chain-link fence providing a break every now and then. In the middle of the room, a stone staircase led up to a ring made of cream-coloured stone and an aqueous see-through material, not too dissimilar to the Ender Pearls. In equal intervals in the ring, holes obviously designed to hold something had been drilled out of the materials making the ring. Below the ring, a pool of magma bubbled and spat, reminding The player just how dangerous this venture was. Well, he hadn't come unprepared. He took out another Eye that he had created and inserted it into the nearest hole he could reach. it fitted perfectly, it sliding in like lubricated butter. The Pearl material locked in place, and the Eye began to glow. As The Player filled the holes in the ring, a high pitched whining noise started to echo through the chamber, ringing in his eardrums, and when the last Eye clicked into place, the earth shook, knocking him off his feet-and into a black pool of pure nothingness. He couldn't even yell, the portal simply swallowed him up. It suddenly switched off, leaving nothing except the bubbling spit of molten rocks. The Player was nowhere to be found. The Enderman turned to his brother, eyes fraught with worry.

++It Is Done. He Has Activated The RealmLink.++

++Indeed.++ His brother pulsed back.

++The Prophecy Has Come True. The Player Has Come To Enderrealm. We Must Warn Them.++

++We Must Not Warn Them, Brother. The Prophecy Must Come True. Arrar Must Fall. Our People Must be Freed.++

++Of Course. I Only Worry Of What He Will Do To Our Kind.++

The effects of reopening the Overrealm Portal to Enderrealm were felt throughout the continuum. Many chose to ignore it. Others started panicking, and sealed their borders. Others began preparing diplomats and soldiers.

In Aetherrealm, The Valkyrie Empress prepared to travel to Enderrealm, with her trusted bodyguards, The Furies.

In Netherrealm, The Most Magnanimous Monarch of the Blaze also prepared his soldiers for a diplomatic envoy to Enderrealm as well.

And deep, deep in Enderrealm, in The Cavernous Splendour of Arrar, a truly gargantuan and ancient being stirred. Huge eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the unlight of the cave he slept in. He could hear the fearful trilling of his slaves' mind-speak, as they scurried away to hidey-holes. He did not care. He gazed over his realm, and spat out a single, malice-filled sentence.

"The prophecies spoke true!"