How To Craft a Diamond Sword

Gathering Materials

The darkness was briefly cut with a jolt of sharp green light and an extremely delicate vapor wave that followed.
When his breathing became heavy and jerky, young vape/flask god Coey Jorban raised his hands in an attempt to protect his squinted and bloodshot eyes. The mesmerizing smell of cool cucumber menthol grew stronger and lingered within his nostrils.
The light did not lost long enough to scan the room in its entirety, but it was just enough to notice that there was a large door on the north side and a long table along the south side. A confident, glinting chandelier claimed the ceiling like the eyes of a greater power above keeping watch of what lies below. The walls seemed to have been a solid, chiseled granite and the floor was a beautiful pattern of glossy black and white marble tiles.
Blanketed in darkness again, he frantically reached for his pocket and discovered his Juul pod is not to be found.
"Those bastards..." he muttered to himself.
A groggy and slightly stupid looking overweight douchebag awoke next to Coey Jorban.
"Hey 🅱️ro, got that mf flask still 😤👌🏽?" Kate Norte hoarsely asked his fellow flask brethren.
"No," Coey replied to the dark. "It's gone. Along with my Juul."
"Dude, those are like, $15. Too bad we are too dumb and unmotivated to do anything productive besides party and be stuck in high school our entire lives," laughed Kate Norte.
The two of them chuckled in delight as they pondered on their pretty sad lifestyles.
"I'll just have my parents buy me another one." Coey said to his friend.
A second surge of blinding light struck the room. This time, it was a chalky pink, and followed once again by a thin fog.
"Dude, now they're wasting my strawberry kiwi pod. This is outrageous. Maybe we should post something about football or slutty girls that we will date for a couple of weeks." Coey raged.
He got no answer. Terrified of still being stuck in the dark, Coey received a delayed wave of average intelligence to use the flashlight on his phone to look around.
The phone was withdrawn from his pocket, and turned on. In front of him was the heavy wooden door that the light had earlier hinted at. It was cracked open a considerable amount revealing a flicker of warm orange dancing light in the distance that trickled into the darkness of the hallway past the door.
"Damn it, it's locked..." Coey Jorban said in frustration.
He turned the other direction and saw a long, rich mahogany table sitting on elegant looking ornate legs that was decorated with 16 untidy lines of partially snorted cocaine strewn and flawed with castoff 100 dollar bills thrown about in reckless abandon. Congealed patches of aged crimson that lied upon the cold marble tiles indicated that there was an outbreak of bursted blood vessels within the septums of the seduced.
Inserted in the tall granite walls at symmetrical points were panes of darkened glass that featured slim "X" patterned metal running up them.
The classical architecture and dated items left behind sent a crisp shiver of hopelessness up Coey Jorban's spine as he felt he had been left back as time continued on without him.