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"The cities weep, yet I am the only one who walks in sorrow. The city rejoices, yet I am the only one to understand."

The Execution

The Palace of Notch was a great place to behold. Adorned with the diamond glow of a thousand beacons, a mighty wall of Martyrs covers the entire expanse. Lush fields of grass blowing gently in the soft wind, caressing the cattle that low in the farm. Yet deep underground the Under-city was terrible to behold, lit only by soft glow of torches, anchored across the roof and walls. This was a cavernous expanse of darkness and death, a place where uncountable prisoners had been brought and persecuted, and enslaved. Row upon row of stone cells were visible, and through the iron bars that hold its quarry in, thousands upon thousands of weeping souls sounded, the cacophony of despair the only sound in the dark expanse...

In cell 1308, in row 97, languished a person, that person's name was Herobrine. As he keened out his sorrow, for he had wrought no wrong, the sound of footsteps echoed across the streets of sorrow. They stopped suddenly, the Herobrine was thrown into the wall. He screamed, for his body protesting in a trillion places. It was the result of rough treatment from the guards that stalked around. His arms were locked, then he was hauled to his feet, and swung to face the guard. The guard swung a fist, hitting his head, causing a warm flow of blood on his already beaten face. As he struggled to blink out the stars in his eyes, the guard snarled one sentence. "Notch will see you now...". The he spat onto Herobrine's face, the phlegm reeking of bile and raw fish. As he was hauled away, Herobrine could could only think one thought. What had he done wrong?