It happened every few months, and this was one of those moments.
Sitting at my desk, staring at the laptop screen. I found myself online, chatting up a few friends. After marathons of Tiktoks and reels showcasing substantial storylines and epic builds, the urge to play the game again happened, and it spiraled from there. Who knew we all shared a collective brain cell—and feed. It was another plan we had mustered up in our heads; a brand new season of our Minecraft server. The discussion ran deep, figuring out the themes, overall architecture. Starting tomorrow, we'll play again. Mining and crafting new memories for the books.
Because after two weeks, the server will once again collect dust.
The game you haven’t played in a bunch of years suddenly feels interesting again? Maybe you’re going through this; The 'two week game phase' is an observed happening that is experienced in games like Minecraft, and multiple others. Minecraft is an open world action-adventure game, meaning the game is yours to explore. There is no fixed storyline in the game, and The End is not necessarily the end either. Thus, no two Minecraft worlds are the same. The game is consistently popular around the world, with more than 200 million monthly active players, according to DemandSage.
Loading into the first day of the new spawn, the in-game chat filled up chaotically. Trekking multiple blocks to find our first village, and setting up camp with houses we claimed. It was like any other start of the world, punching down trees and hunting for food—except for the horrendous dirt hut in the middle of the village, a ‘Trading Hub,’ someone said. Tunneling a hole into the stone hill walls to create another base. And there, it always happened; No matter how unconventional your base would be, your crafting table and furnace somehow end up next to each other.
The world built up quickly, and by around three real-life days later, we got the Nether portal ready. I accustomed myself to husbandry, while building up my new base. Everyone else was either mining for diamonds, or battling their demons out in the Nether. The trees around our land cleared up, elaborate houses replacing them. My base looked pretty bad compared to theirs, but it was mine, and it was honest work.
Entering the first day of our second week playing the game. Everyone had started to deck themselves out in Netherite Armor. The End Fight (where we go to the End) was coming along, as they call it. Fighting the Ender Dragon was a major milestone for the server, but all I knew is the true end is soon to come.
Time is ticking down with every hit taken by the dragon. A man fell, or two, quickly respawned to get back on scene. I held my breath as the final blows were dealt, experience points falling to the ground. It was only a game, plastered on the screen on my laptop, but there we were. Friends who lived minutes away, hours even. Joined together in a virtual world, skipping through the cutscene as we re-entered the main world again. The Dragon Egg was placed on a pedestal in the center of our established town, a trophy to our achievements.
I've done this multiple times, but it felt different this time. It always did.
A little over halfway through the second week, the server had started to die down. Building projects are left unfinished, its virtual realm left coated in dust. Only a few continued to play the game. Raid farms, wither fights. Multiple times, but after the End Dragon, the world seemed finished. Everyone had the maximum enchantments for their tools and armor, and their bases were already sufficient. It seemed complete, even if there were missing blocks and messy chests.
Fortnight had hit, and the server hasn't been started up since the thirteenth day. Everyone had stopped playing, calibrating their focus back onto their duties in life. School was coming back after the break, starting a new world outside of Minecraft. The server will remain somewhere down the depths of the internet, but the memories we made will be kept intact.
My friends and I still talk, and perhaps in a few months time, another season will start. The next summer, or the next Christmas. Another two weeks. Until then, I’ll be waiting again.
Written by Joni Lopez, Insight PH
Joni Lopez, Insight PH is a dedicated campus journalist and contributor. Their insightful writing sparks meaningful conversations and keeps the community informed.
