Create a new version of paste:

The prophecy told us about the end times. When civilization was at the annex of its sustainability and industrialization, the system would come crashing down on our heads. We would suffer invasion, death, and total extinction in a matter of weeks. 
They were called the "end times" and they would be brought by the "endermen". Now to most, the Notch creation stories and the end times and the existence of the nether were all myths, fallacies played up my extremists and misguided religionists.
We reached that annex. Our lives were happy, industrialist, we used up the planets resources faster than we could find them. Massive mining operations went into play. Massive military operations for land control, war, chaos. It had begun already, and it was initiated by our own greed and growth.
Now you may know the creeper as a natural creature of nature but it wasn't always that way. They were explosive mindless suicide bombers built and engineered for the land wars. They were a failure. They busted out themselves and disappeared into the wilderness. Reproduced like crazy, all over the world, they became a statistic, a population. Dangerous creatures.
Mining operations continued, massive branch mines spanned from pole to pole, iron needed for buildings, for war. With all this uncovering, it was bound to be found. The stronghold.
An ancient civilization existed on the planet way before we got there. They were there at the beginning, and they would be there at the end.
So we burst into the stronghold on accident. We unleashed the endermen ourselves in our own vague efforts to continue our expansion. The miners never made it back.
The first enderman is spotted, but the witnesses became casualties soon after. You look at them, you're marked. They surveyed the planet for a decade, picking off whatever witnesses came into play. They decided it was terrible, the state of the planet, our presence, would not be tolerated. They could not let this planet be torn to chaos and destruction.
They waged war on us. Interrupted both wars, ending them effectively. Massive forces, teleporting and disappearing, they slammed the armies down and down. Our only option was to strike at the source.
Entire nations marched down that mine to fight the stronghold. We barely made it out, we made it to the portal, and we destroyed it, effectively ending the onslaught, stranding any endermen on our planet.
But we were too late. In a last act of desperation, the Anilianth, the ender dragon, released a spore through the portal that we could not detect. It spread and it spread, it's effects irreversible. Humans were turned into zombies, brainless, their skin rotting, and others, into mindless slaves of the endermen, serving until all their flesh fell from their very bones. Insects grew enormously, ravaging citizens of the planets while they slept, ripping them apart during the day.
Panic grew. Riots. Disease. It effectively destroyed more than three quarters of the population, and still going. I fear I am next. This is the last bastion of human hope, and we suffer from endless invasion. We cannot hold out any longer. Humanity is finished. This is the end.
Unless,
The legacy told us of a man who would be immune to the spore, a man who would float the seas after his ship was attacked and he was cast off, left to eventually beach on the shores.
He would build his civilization, fight off the creatures of the night, and he would build his statue and his bastion.  He would descend into the depths of hell and back, and he would march back into that stronghold once more, and we would defeat the Anilianth himself, humanity would be restored and saved from the ender.
Wishful thinking. We can only hope.
They are here now, I can hear the walls of the city giving way. My end is here, but the end of humanity remains questionable.
Notch, have mercy on us.