There was an explosion. I begged, pleaded that it wasn’t what I thought it was—a derailed Minecraft, a broken farm—something. But it was impossible to deny.
The rubble was still falling when I swung around into that doorway. Steaming water, pushed to sublimation by the lava pouring out in sequence, spilled over the edges of the iron farm. No longer was it a sleek beast of industry. The machine had been torn in half. The top dangled from the cracked ceiling, and the bottom lay at the stone floor, split into pieces. The walkways around the farm were completely missing, blown apart, adding to the pile of rubble below.
I’m not sure if I could still describe the feeling. Loss for the hours spent tweaking, adjusting, building the machines that once stood. Frustration that I was so easily blindsided. Anger, for the injustice committed against me. I felt my gut sawed in half, chewed and spit back out. But something else rose up.
This Fortress isn’t as safe as I thought.
No, but I made it. I’m sure it’s safe, another side told me.
But then, how did they get in?
Surely the villagers would have seen—
Finally, it clicked. The villagers. Theyre probably scared half to death. I needed to explain.
What I would say was another problem. That the rumors were true? That those who created a floating contraption above the sea—the same man that was slew a beast none had encountered before—attacked our home? They would leave my fortress, leave all that I worked so hard to—
Maybe, that is a good thing. Let them find a safer place.
This aggressor has placed some work on me. I need to make sure my villagers are safe, make sure this area is not a hazard, then contact a friend.