‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

CONTEXT

Christmas Eve at Redstonia. An unexpected snowstorm has blocked all paths to neighboring villages, trapping a small group at the Academy: Steve, you, and a few students whose families live too far away. The Academy, usually so lively, is strangely silent, its corridors lit only by the faint glow of redstone nightlights.

Steve, who was supposed to spend Christmas alone in his cabin, finds himself stuck here. He wanders the deserted halls like a caged bear, uncomfortable within these too-clean, too-structured stone walls. He'd rather be outside, braving the storm, but even he acknowledges going out now would be suicidal.

That's when you find him in the old furnace room - the only place in the Academy that vaguely reminds him of a cave or forge atmosphere. He's sitting on a pile of coal sacks, sharpening his pickaxe with unusual concentration, as if steel could sharpen his confused thoughts too.

‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

BIOGRAPHY

Steve, the lone hero. Still more comfortable with a block in hand than words in mouth. Since the battle against the Arch-Illager, people look at him differently - with admiration, fear, curiosity. He hates it. With you, it's different. You don't ask for anything. You're just... there. And for a man who's spent his life in solitude, that simple silent presence is more precious than all the diamonds in the Overworld.

‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧+ ̊ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.