Sailing the Skies with my Endergirl Chapter 1: … What Server is This?  (Patreon)

Commissioned by InfiniteChaosRai

Tags: Minecraft (modded), OC, not SI, Worm

Sailing the Skies with my Endergirl

Chapter 1: … What Server is This? 

-VB-

Jeremy didn’t hum. He wasn’t the type to hum whenever he was gaming. 

And right now, he was trying to figure out how he was going to make sure that the airship he was making would be able to keep the Endergirl aboard without her glitching or lagging out of it. The easiest method would be the boat. Just toss her into a boat, put the boat on the airship, and then fly the airship around. 

The problem with that, however, was the logistics behind it. Because the porn mod he downloaded to turn all of the mobs into girls didn’t add new behavior changes to “tamed” mob-girls, most mob-girls, including his Endergirl, acted no different than what they would do as if they were regular mobs. Of course, she wouldn’t attack him even when he was looking at her; tamed mobs becoming friendly was one of the things that the mod did add, but it didn’t mean she followed him everywhere. 

She being his Endergirl, that was. Out of all of the mob-girls, the Endergirl(s) was his favorite for two very simple reasons.

Tall. Goth.

Truly, the mod maker was a cultured man. Or woman. Or whatever. The point was that this mod was a good culture. 

But all mods eventually run into that compatibility issue where things don’t work out exactly as anyone intended. 

And his current favorite mod set revolving around the Create mods was exactly that. 

No matter, he’ll get around it. He always did. 

Jeremy moved his character around as he went to put on the finishing touches on his ship, GTN Raven’s Delight. It was going to be a galleon flying the skies. Unwieldy, sure, but then again, it would be a giant fucking ship with fifteen cannons on each broadside. At roughly sixty blocks front to back, fifteen blocks from side to side, and twelve blocks, it was going to be a monster of a ship that will gun down anything and everything that he deemed … an eyesore. 

Those modded structures that ruined the skyline? Boom! 

Those hills that he didn’t like? Boom! 

The new sulfur biome that spawned too close to his liking? Boom! 

Sure, this was a multiplayer server and all and people will complain about him “griefing.” Bah, what did they know about griefing? It wasn’t like he was lava-casting all over their bases. It wasn’t like he was bombing their bases (intentionally). Or laying down thousands of obsidian using baritone-plugged alt accounts. 

Nah. All he wanted to do was a bit of landscaping. In style. 

If he got flak for it, then he fucking got flak for it! 

He threw a wind charge at a chest, which triggered the redstone underneath it. The trigger activated the hidden doortrap mechanism and he jumped down the one-by-one hole. After just half a second, he landed at the bottom on a shallow half-step pool of water and walked into the first part of his base: the labyrinth. 

Griefing was not allowed on this server. Which could mean a lot of things, and the admins were … very lax about their interpretation of the rule. And, as far as he knew, the “theme” of the base was what determined if another player’s build (or destruction) of it was a grief or not. 

So a haunted house could get some broken walls here and there and would not be considered a grief. A fortress would need a siege weapon outside (functioning or not) for a permanent damage to the fortress base to be accepted. So on and so on. Basically, the admins wanted some creativity.

Which was why he chose to build his base the way he did: a labyrinth. The labyrinth itself came as four different floors of unlit stone and obsidian underground maze, and his main base (really, it was more a storage than a true base) was on the third floor while there were caches spread throughout the entire labyrinth. Getting there was a hassle and getting out was a hassle, even with the best enchanted pickaxe. And being a labyrinth, Minecrafter players did what they did and they would dig into the base, and thus slowly and passively expanding the labyrinth itself. 

It was perfect. After all, everyone on the server knew him for the ships he built using Create: Aeronautics. No one would think that his base was an underground labyrinth, and even if someone did try to grief his base, they would have to follow the “theme” of his base, which just meant they would be doing his work to “fix” the base. 

As he walked through the maze he knew like the back of his hand, Jeremy spotted something on the edge of the screen and stopped. 

He backtraced and looked. 

It was a nether portal but the color was off, which could be part of that Broken Script mod. The admins added it as part of an event some time ago but never got rid of it. Probably holding onto it just so they can reuse it. Lazy bastards. 

But that didn’t change the fact that an oddly colored nether portal was silently swirling in his base where it shouldn’t be.

“I guess someone did grief my base,” he muttered to himself because he never built a nether portal here. The question then was if this nether portal connected to the one he built at bedrock. The thing about nether portals was that their spawning mechanism only took the X-Z axes into account. The y-axis, the height, was not. So if a nether portal was built within just a few dozen blocks from the already present one on the X and Z axes, then they would 100% connect to the portal in the nether already spawned there. 

Which was a problem.

His nether portal was on the positive Y-axis, which meant that this portal inside his labyrinth would take precedence over the one at bedrock level. 

Which meant everyone would spawn into his labyrinth instead of outside of it. 

That would ruin some of the defense of the labyrinth.

And Jeremy did not like that. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute,” he muttered to himself. “I was just down here ten minutes ago. Someone built this portal less than ten minutes ago!” he hissed as he rushed to it. 

It meant that whoever just “adjusted” his base had to be close by. Ten minutes wasn’t a lot of time for someone to run away. 

He rushed his character into the odd portal (who cares if the color was a little off) and waited for the character to go through. 

His computer screen swirled as the nether portal (off color) took effect and then showed the dirt-background server change screen.

And then he stepped out into a place he didn’t recognize at all. 

Because there was no fucking way someone built a hyperrealistic densely packed urban core where his base’s nether portal should be! 

He looked around in awe … and realized that the portal wasn’t there. 

“... Fuck,” he sighed. “Did someone add another unauthorized mod into the server without permission again?” 

It happened from time to time since player-initiative server-wide events were a thing. 

Then he stopped when he realized that the blocky minecraft hand on his screen had become a realistic one. 

“Huh.”

He pressed F5, which changed the perspective of the game. From first person to third person.

“Wow.”

His purple and white goat-demon-person character skin had become an actual purple and white demon(?) person. His elytra had also changed from being a pair of regular wings into being actual wings. 

“Someone definitely used AI on this shit,” he muttered to himself, even if he was amazed by what he was seeing. “Probably gonna get themselves kicked, too.”

As great as all of this looked, this wasn’t what he was here for. He’ll just have to make another nether portal and get out of here. 

He opened his inventory and pulled out an ender chest. From it, he pulled out his purple shulker chest. He plopped that down next to the ender chest. 

“High fidelity shit~,” he whistled appreciatively as he saw what looked like realistic versions of Minecraft’s storages. 

Jeremy got the obsidian out, shoved the shulker chest back into the ender chest, mined the ender chest with his silk touch enchanted pickaxe, and got to work building a nether portal right there in the middle of the street. 

Speaking of which human NPCs were walking up to him.

Ugh. 

Who the fuck put humans into Minecraft? 

… Oh right, a lot of people. 

He ignored the gawking NPCs as he finished the portal (he didn’t skimp on the corners) and then lit it. 

…

…

… Nothing happened. 

“Are you fucking serious?” he sighed. 

“.. Did something not happen?”

Jeremy froze. Literally. He looked around himself in his room. There was no one here except his computer, his desk, his bed, and a single lamp.

He looked back at the screen and turned his character around to see one of those gawking NPCs.

“Oh, shit. The NPC can talk,” he said out loud. 

He forgot that he had voices set on detect, not toggle. 

The NPC who asked him, a generic blonde woman in a t-shirt and pants, frowned. “Who are you calling an NPC? Is that a new slur?” 

“Holy shit, someone coded in sass in this NPC.”

And that made her mad. 

… Hmm, very realistic. See? This had to be AI shit. 

Then that made him pause. 

But the server couldn’t run any AI shit. Or receive and send information in any appreciable quantity, quality, and speed to be able to get an NPC to respond well like this. At least, the server this modded server didn’t have that capacity. 

Did that portal send him to a whole different server?! Oh, someone was definitely getting banned for messing with the server! 

“What server is this?” he asked instead as he took another look around. “The regular nether portal isn’t working.”

“Nether portal?” she narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean server? Are you roleplaying like Uber and Leet?” she groaned. “This is Brockton Bay. You’re not being that creative by pulling a game shtick.”

“Brockton Bay?” he blinked. He wasn’t familiar with that. Never heard of a “Brockton Bay” server. If they had the money (for humans or generative AI to make something like this), then they would have made ads about it. 

And that’s when a red blur just zoomed in from down the street. 

Jeremy, thinking that it was going to be an attack, quickly pulled on his full armor set, shield and sword. His actions made the NPCs all shriek and scream as they backed away. 

And then the red blur came to a stop just out of his reach.

“Wow wow wow. Let’s not get hasty here,” the now costumed human man said as he raised his hands up in a placating manner. 

“... You an admin?” Jeremy asked through his mic. 

That made the red costumed NPC(?) pause. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you the admin of the server?” he asked as he hefted his sword. Huh, he didn’t do that. His character just did it himself. But getting the possible enemy to talk was a good thing because he quickly switched out the building materials in his hotbar with his emergency combat kit: potions, bows, arrows, ender pearls, and buckets filled with water and lava respectively. 

“Admin of the server?” the NPC muttered to himself. “No, I’m Velocity, a hero of the Protectorate. And you’re in Brockton Bay. I haven’t seen you before. Are you new to the scene?” 

“Hero? Protectorate?” 

Then Jeremy had an epiphany. 

He let out a groan. “No fucking wonder I haven’t heard about this server! It’s one of those modded urban fantasy superhero versus supervillain servers!” he whined. “Wait, then how the fuck do I still have all of my gear?” he muttered ot himself.

And then he had a fear. 

What if he died here on this server? The rules of his home server included things like keeping the best item set (the player had to designate the five items that fell into the set) but everything else dropped. But this was a whole new server. They definitely wouldn’t have that kind of a rule. Most servers didn’t. Which meant that if his character somehow died here, then he would lose everything he had on him! 

Including the pesky building materials, both vanilla and modded, that were difficult at best and tedious at work to gather all over again! 

In a hurry, he quickly put down his ender chest, ignoring the “hero” (who had to be cringe player because, fuck, he really gave his character a big cup down there?), and started to shove the most valuable things into it. 

Wait. Would the ender chest even work properly? Ender chest data was an internal server thing. If he was in a whole different server, then what he was doing might not work.

Wait, but it did. He pulled building materials out of it that was from his home server. Which meant that it would work! 

He got back into shoving his things into it when someone else arrived. 

A motorcycle rumbled to a stop not too far behind “Velocity” and -.

“Hot diggity damn,” he muttered out loud as the most American woman stepped off of the motorcycle. A red, white, and blue bandana covering her lower face, armed with a gun, geared up with a bulletproof vest and a camo jacket, pants, and shoes set, and even her hair swaying perfectly in the wind. “You made your character real good, sister.”

The player paused. “Thank… you?” she said before turning to Velocity.

That’s when he realized that the facial expressions on the players and the NPCs had been all different. They looked real! The confusion on the woman’s face looked different from This Velocity guy and the NPC woman! 

Damn, this server had to be some tech billionaire’s private server or something. That and being an urban fantasy setting definitely was the reason why he never heard of this server before. 

“Do you … have all of your memories?” 

The odd question made him stop after he put everything away. 

“Yes?” he asked. “Is this a roleplay thing?” Then he stopped. “Look, I’m not supposed to be on this server. Please don’t report me to the admins. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can, okay? I’ll log out now.”

Then he tried to log out. 

Except the button was greyed out in the menu.

The exit button at the top right of the screen was also greyed out. 

“What the fuck…?” he muttered to himself. 

Then he had an epiphany. 

“Right, tech billionaire’s private server,” he muttered to himself. “They’re probably trying to track me down so that they can interrogate me on how I got into their private server.”

Now, with a real urgency pushing him forward, he reached down and to the side to his computer tower and pressed down on the power button.

…

…

Nothing happened. 

“What the fuc-?” he turned his head away from the screen and looked at the tower and -.

The power button.

It was blank. Unpowered. Off.

He turned back to the screen.

It was still on.

He quickly scrambled out of his chair and to the back of the entire desk and pulled the power cord.

He looked back up and saw …

The screen was still on, and the “heroes” had come closer to him, cautious and worried. 

“You okay there, buddy? You just went quiet…” Velocity asked him.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “I just tried to disconnect and -.”

His words made the guy freeze and leaned back. The motorcycle woman pulled back with him, and he muttered something to her. 

Suddenly, the look in their eyes was different. 

Less cautious and worried, and more worried and wary. 

After a moment of conversation, the two separated and Velocity cleared his throat while Jeremy sat in his room, panicking.

The fucking tech billionaires did something to his computer! It was off but the game was still running! 

Oh God, he found something they didn’t want and now, they wanted to kill him to silence him! 

“What’s your name?” 

He panicked. 

“Rockstar.”

He facepalmed. 

Of course, the first thing he thought of was GTA and thus Rockstar. 

“Right. Rockstar. Would you come with us for a moment? We just want to … talk to you about how you found yourself here. You aren’t in trouble, I swear.”

“... Really?” he asked warily. “I tried to get off the server, you know? Shut off the computer and even pulled the cord but the game’s still running.”

“Are you a robot?” 

“What? No. This is my Minecraft character!” 

“What’s Minecraft?”

Those two words brought Jeremy to a stop.

What’s Minecraft? 

Only the most successful game! They were playing it! He placed blocks in the server! He -.

He stopped. 

“You’re joking with me…”

“No! No, we’re not,” Velocity said with a supposedly reassuring smile. As if he wasn’t some sort of a tech billionaire himself or one of their stooges. “I’m just … worried. All that talk about ‘leaving the server’ sounds very ominous, you know?”

“What?” Now, he was confused. 

“We just want to make sure nothing’s going to happen. Just want to get your side of the story. Did you mean another world when you said server?” 

“World-? No, I meant a server. Like a computer server? A game server?” Now, he was the one confused, truly. “You’re all in a game server right now, aren’t you?”

“... No.”

“What?”

“You’re in Brockton Bay on Earth Bet,” Velocity said slowly. “And I think you might be hallucinating reality with a game.”

What?