The world stretched wide and vibrant, bathed in soft sunlight, where rolling windswept hills blanketed in lush, green grass unfolded toward the horizon. In the distance, jagged mountains pierced the sky, their snow-capped peaks glinting beneath the sun, standing tall and watchful over the world below. The base of the cliffs was cloaked in dense spruce forests, their dark green needles whispering in the breeze, where small white wolves occasionally lingered along the underbrush. A flower forest bloomed with breathtaking colour; Peonies, alliums, tulips, roses... Bees buzzed lazily through the air, weaving between blooms and drifting in slow circles above the swaying petals and flowers alike. Meanwhile, the gentle babble of a nearby stream added a soft melody to the scene, trickling along its cobbled bed with a rhythm both soothing and persistent. Along the streams bank, rows of sugarcane grew tall and proud beside carefully tilled farmland where wheat seeds had been freshly planted, the soil dark and damp.

A hand-built birch bridge arched gracefully over the stream, its planks slightly uneven and well-worn from frequent use. Across it sat a small, cozy hut nestled between oak and birch trees, their leaves as vibrant as the flowers around. The huts walls were constructed from stripped oak logs, and panes of tall glass welcomed the sunlight inside. Above the arched stone roof, a chimney puffed a lazy coil of smoke into the sky, signaling warmth and life within.

A wooden sign planted by the door read "Steve’s House!" in bright, blocky letters, slightly crooked from bad handwriting. Whoever wrote it probably doesn't write often, perhaps more comfortable dueling crafted tools as opposed to any inky pen. Items rested against the outer wall; A gleaming diamond pickaxe, chipped from use, and an iron axe with its edge dulled from countless trees chopped. Some torches lit the area, keeping it well lit at night — And the monsters at bay.

It was not grand, but it was his home — Simple, rugged, and alive with life.