The End: An Official Minecraft Novel

by Catherynne M. Valente

  Mo gasped. That was blasphemy. Real, serious blasphemy. If a grown-up heard them thinking like that…

  I do not want to be an enderman at all if all it means is hunting humans and fighting battles and breaking things. I just want to play my music. I like this familial group! Kan and Fin and Mo and Grumpo and the ship! That is my End. They do not understand me. They will NEVER understand me.

  We like this End, too, thought Fin.

  They were all quiet for a while.

  How long before they come to get you? Mo thought delicately. Kan wouldn’t want to talk about it, but whenever his hubunits came to pick him up, they tended to do quite a bit of damage to the ship.

  I do not know. Kan’s thoughts were so quiet they were like whispers. I wish I did not have hubunits.

  Don’t say that, Fin thought fiercely.

  No, you don’t, thought Mo at the same time.

  Now Kan’s thoughts were so quiet they could barely see them. They flickered in the twins’ heads like candles about to go out. Then I only wish I had not been born different. I wish I liked to fight and break things like everyone else. I wish I had never heard music in the first place. I just want to be normal. Why did the Great Chaos make me this way?

  I think you’re wonderful this way, Mo thought.

  Grumpo’s box clapped open suddenly. Then shut again. Then open. Then shut and open and shut and open and shut again, but faster and louder. SOMEONE IS APPROACHING THE SHIP, the shulker screeched into their skulls. SOMEONE IS APPROACHING THE SHIP. SOMEONE BIG. HATE. HATE. HATE. HATE. I WILL BITE THEM. I WILL. LET ME BITE THEM. YOU WILL NOT BE SORRY. EVERYTHING WILL BE BETTER IF I BITE THEM. TRUST GRUMPO. GOOD BOY GRUMPO.

  Fin and Mo turned toward the door into the hold. The terrible thoughts of Kan’s secondary hubunit, Karshen, appeared in their minds like flashing lights and sirens.

  KAN! WHERE ARE YOU LOCATED IN THE VOID?!

  Full of rage. Full of pride. Full of that strange way of talking grown-ups liked so much. There were enough of them here that Karshen could summon the intelligence to speak as he pleased.

  KAN! I WILL DISCOVER YOU!

  I will go, Kan thought glumly. He tucked his note block under his skinny, dark arm. I do not want any of your treasure to get ruined like last time. The behavior of my hubunits humiliates me. I am sorry.

  KAN! YOU ARE MORE FOOLISH THAN YOU APPEAR! UNCOVER YOURSELF TO YOUR HUBUNIT! WE DO NOT POSSESS AN EXCESS OF TIME IN WHICH TO PLAY YOUR FRIVOLOUS GAMES. UNCOVER YOURSELF. EVENTS COMMENCE. TERRIBLE EVENTS.

  One enderman alone may not be as clever or as strong as many endermen together. But one enderman alone is still plenty strong. They could hear him thrashing around on the upper deck. They heard the slats of the ladder on one side of the mast crack under his fist.

  I will go, Kan said again. But he didn’t get up.

  What’s he talking about? Mo thought swiftly. What terrible events?

  I do not know, nothing was afoot when I left. All was silence. Except for the usual yelling session concerning how much all sensible people hate music.

  KAN!

  It is the day of my fragmentation, Kan thought glumly. They do not even remember.

  Endermen were not born the way humans were. The little enderfrags just replicated off the primary hubunit. A tiny black sprite blinking away from a big black block. They looked almost like small black eggs. No pain or drama or cuddles in its mother’s arms. A newborn enderman was just part of the primary hubunit one moment, and off on its own the next. But they did celebrate their day of fragmentation, all the same. Usually.

  Now they could hear the thoughts of Kan’s primary hubunit, Teg. Even louder than Karshen’s. Her heavy feet crunched onto the ship.

  They’re going to wreck the place, Fin worried.

  KAN YOU MUST REVEAL YOURSELF TO YOUR CREATORS!

  Farewell my friends, waved Kan as he trudged up the steps toward his family. I will see you again. Someday. I hope.

  It’ll be okay, Mo thought after him.

  Will it, though?

  Ender swear, Fin assured him.

  Ender swear, Mo agreed.

  Kan nodded. His face looked so pretty in the soft light of the End. Okay. I believe you.

  KAN, YOU HAVE APPEARED AS IF BY MAGIC. The huge endermen outside blared their thoughts everywhere with very little care for who heard them. They must really have been worried. Usually, endermen were much more careful to keep their thoughts tight and directed, like a flashlight’s beam that landed only where you wanted it to.

  How did you find me so swiftly? Kan thought dryly.

  You always come here, Kan’s primary hubunit thought, returning to a normal volume. Why would we look in an alternative location?

  But his secondary hubunit was still screaming at the top of his mind.

  YOU MUST RETURN TO THE HOME NODE IMMEDIATELY, FRAGMENT. THERE IS NO TIME TO EXPEND IN DISCUSSING YOUR FAILURES.

  Why? What is at home? More yelling? Kan’s thoughts were white-hot with resentment.

  The primary hubunit crouched on her black knees. The lights of Telos beyond her enormous head gave her a strange yellowish halo. She looked deep into her fragment’s strange, terrible green eyes. She even touched his head. Just a little. Almost as if she cared. And now, even though Fin and Mo and even Grumpo could still hear her thoughts, she sent her words quietly.

  Kan, fragment of mine, you must come home and prepare. It is imperative. We must defend ourselves. The humans are coming.

  Humans.

  Even the word made Mo shudder.

  Humans.

  Fin had never seen one, and he didn’t want to.

  Oh, they came to the End. Every once in a while. Like pests. Like Creepers sneaking up behind you on a sunny day. Silverfish leaping out at you from a path you thought was safe. Spiders turning on you just as the sun sets. Or worse, endermites chewing at the foundation of the world until it cracked.

  But to Mo and Fin, all that was just stories. Rumors. Memories. Other people’s memories. Just as they had been told by the elders what their hubunits were like, they had been told what humans were like. Just in case. In case they needed to know, someday. To protect themselves.

  Humans were strange. They were alien. They were hideous. Instead of beautiful, sleek black bodies as tall as trees, they were short and thick and a hundred different colors all mushed together into fat eyes, wet stomachs, horrible reeking feet, and something particularly nasty called “hair.” They were violent and angry even when they had everything they could want. If you put a human in a nice patch of swamp or forest or meadow, they’d carve out everything valuable for themselves in half a day, if that. They just sucked it up like squishy flesh tornadoes. And all to build a stupid house or castle or statue, instead of leaving it as it was, unspoiled, which had been far more beautiful than their weird ugly buildings in the first place. Sometimes, they just hit sheep and pigs and even rocks with swords for fun. Just to see what would happen. As if they didn’t know. And if they saw you, if they so much as saw you, they’d get you. You had to get them first. That was all there was to it. Survival of the quickest. Once you’ve seen one human, it’s too late. They’ll be everywhere before you can blink.

  You could get them easier at night. They had to sleep on beds, in houses. Endermen catnapped with their eyes slitted, just slightly open, ready and wary of predators. Obviously, the sensible way to get your rest! One of the elders, a lanky, gruff old one named Sama, had had to explain to the twins that for humans, “sleep” meant lying in one place for hours and hours, totally unable to hear or see anything. This seemed idiotically dangerous, and they told Sama so. The elder had agreed, and they’d gone their separate ways, satisfied to be right all around. That was why humans needed beds and houses, to keep them safe while they did their idiot thing at night. So the best bet was to catch them before th
ey could get into their little fortresses.

  And of course, as Fin and Mo knew very well, humans’ favorite thing to eat was hubunits.

  Not that they’d ever asked anyone what humans’ favorite food was. They didn’t need to. It was quite literally the story of their lives.

  Humans were monsters. Storybook horrors.

  And they were coming.

  * * *

  —

  An Endmoot had been called.

  Because endermen were most intelligent and careful in their family groups, the wisest an enderman could possibly be was at an Endmoot. From all over the End, endermen came in their family groups to the ender dragon’s island to commune and plan. Whenever a decision that affected all of them had to be made, they came to stand in the long shadows of the obsidian pillars and become wise together. It was not every enderman who existed. That was impossible. Endermen ranged far and wide, in every part of the world. It wasn’t even every enderman in the End. The End was so vast, each section of it could go eons without communication with another section. But it was enough. Enough to choose the right path.

  As long as Fin and Mo had been alive, there had been only one Endmoot: when their hubunits died and no one knew what was to be done with the orphans. There’d never been a need for another. The End had stayed peaceful all that time. A raid here or there from overworlders, sure. But nothing that required a plan of action to handle.

  Until now.

  They came drifting in like black birds, in groups of four and five, six and eight, sometimes even twelve and fifteen or more. Their lovely broad heads tipped up toward the crystal light falling from the towers, toward the shadows of the eternally circling dragon, who played no part in these affairs and offered no advice. Sparkling violet dust glittered all around the endermen as they gathered. There was Sama, the elder who had explained sleep to them once upon a time. There was Lopp, whose enderfrags had still not returned. There was Paa, who had long ago brought them the news that they could not train at the Enderdome now that there were only two of them. There was Eresha, the Mouth of the Great Chaos, with her many clerics gathered around her. There was Kraj and Karshen and Teg and Wakas and the beautiful nubunit Tapi. Fin even saw Koneka hiding behind her hubunits, awed by so many people in one place. Kan was there too, sulking on a low dune with his note block beside him. His strange green eyes stared off into the distance. Kan kicked at the sand and grass with his feet. The twins saw everyone they knew. Many, many more they did not.

  ALL HAIL THE GREAT CHAOS! Eresha thought over the crowd, the power of her mind as commanding as a trumpet.

  MAY THE GREAT CHAOS SMILE UPON YOU, answered the masses of endermen.

  How do we know humans are coming? Mo thought to her twin. A quick, direct thought between the two of them, not to be shared with anyone else. Are there…I don’t know, alarms? Human alarms?

  Can you not feel it? The thoughts of an elder came slicing into their conversation. Rude. But all rules and niceties were off now. The danger was too great for manners. Owari, the Taskmaster of the Enderdome, towered above them. The twelve seals are nearly in place. And upon those seals the humans will place twelve eyes of ender. When it is done, the great portal shall be complete, and they will swarm into our world. It is the End Times.

  Twelve eyes? Fin recoiled in horror. EYES? What is wrong with them? Whose eyes did they steal? For what? Party decorations?

  Humans do worse than that, juvenile male, thought Karshen, Kan’s secondary hubunit. He was calm and thoughtful now, stacked with so many endermen. Not a trace of his rage left. They steal our pearls.

  Mo felt sick. Ender pearls were to an enderman as a heart and a soul were to a human. Why? By the Great Chaos, why?

  Karshen answered: With it, they can teleport as we do.

  They can’t walk? Mo thought in horror. Run?

  They walk very well indeed, and run better than most. But with an ender pearl, they arrive at their destination somewhat faster.

  And that, to a human, was apparently worth ripping the soul from an enderman. They wouldn’t even know who it had belonged to. An enderman’s entire heart was nothing more than a minecart ride.

  It only works once for them, Kan thought from his sullen perch on the edge of the island. Distance mattered little when it came to telepathy. If you wanted to be heard, you could be. His purple spores sparkled brightly. The pearl burns out into an ember of coal after they use it.

  Oh, that’s fine then! Fin cried. Very efficient! We’re just like torches to them! Burn us and throw us away.

  I hate them, Mo thought. I hate humans so much.

  A howl of rage went up from the minds of hundreds of endermen. White-hot, black-cold, insatiable fury.

  The moment I see one I cannot stop myself, hissed Nubunit Tapi, shaking with anger. I cannot rest until I kill it. My soul burns until it is dead.

  Good, my friend! Thought an extremely tall enderman standing nearby. That is right and proper! Let your lust for battle guide you! Strike them all down in the name of the Great Chaos! Break their castles! Take their treasure! Feel no guilt. They would do the same to you.

  It is true that humans are the greatest scourge the world has ever known, as disgusting as endermites, as greedy and ugly as death itself. That thought belonged to the elder Ipari. It floated in the minds of all the gathered endermen, cool and firm. But we have little time for this. Each and every enderman must feel the portal nearing completion, like locks sliding into place within us.

  The smallest enderfrags looked around themselves suddenly, terrified, expecting a human to appear at any moment.

  Ah, the little ones do not understand as their hubunits do, the elder Ipari thought soothingly. Time in the Overworld does not flow in precisely the same way as it does here. In the time it takes for whatever humans are building their portal to slide another stone, another eye into place, hours or days may pass in the End. We cannot know for certain. Time is the servant of Order. We are not friendly with it.

  I don’t feel anything, Fin thought quietly. Do you?

  No, answered Mo. Maybe we’re getting sick. Grumpo had that cold, remember? He told us to snuggle up close so we would get it, too.

  But we do know the time is short, another enderman, Beigas, picked up Ipari’s thought where it left off. His violet eyes flashed. The portal will open beneath the very earth on which we now stand. And they will pour out like lava. We must fight them. That much is certain. Perhaps we can trust in our dragon to protect us?

  The endernation looked to the skies.

  No answer came but a long, low reptilian laugh.

  A single word echoed in all their minds: Fools.

  The End belongs to us, thought Wakas, one of the endermen shepherds. She had a flock of shulkers she tended on the slopes of one of the smaller inner islands. It is the land of our people. We have lived here since the beginning. They have no right to take our country from us and pillage it.

  Not exactly since the beginning, Vegg interrupted her. Vegg was a strategy master in Telos. She taught the class Fin had watched yesterday from his dunes. Fin watched her now, longingly. She was giving a lecture, a real lecture. And he was here to listen. Finally.

  You speak nonsense, Vegg. Be silent, snapped Wakas.

  Nonsense? Did we build these cities? Did we raise these towers, block by block? Did we plant the chorus trees? Did we light the crystal torches atop those pillars? No. We did not. Our ancestors found them as they are. Someone was here before us, and we took their land just as the humans wish to take ours. We took it so thoroughly that now we do not even remember their names or what they looked like. And besides, ownership is Order.

  I would not go that far, began Eresha, the Mouth of the Great Chaos. The human invaders believe everything is theirs for the taking. That is the Order of the universe in their twisted minds. They see a thing they desire; the
y smash it. They take it. They devour it. They destroy it. They use it in their vile constructions. We must stand against that. We must keep the End safe and whole, and though there is some Orderliness to our possession of this place, it is outweighed by our needs. Endermen must rule the End. The Great Chaos wills it so.

  There is another dilemma, an enderman named Kraj piped up. A great silence fell in all their minds. Kraj was the oldest enderman any of them had ever heard of. He was a cruxunit. One of the thick, powerful stems from which all other endermen sprang. The violet of his eyes was faded, his spores almost silver. I am more ancient than many of you. I have seen more things. Suffered more. Experienced more. I have escaped the rain all the days of my life.

  Get on with it, Kraj, Paa complained. You impress no one.

  Fin and Mo were stunned. They had always been told to respect the cruxunits. But Kraj really didn’t impress any of the other elders. As soon as his thoughts fired up, the other endermen started looking bored and restless. They picked at their spores, wandered around, examined the wall of a nearby pillar with sudden intense interest. No one listened to Kraj, and most seemed to intensely wish he’d stop talking at once. The twins took the opportunity to jog over to Kan and settle down on the dry grass with him. The night sky loomed over the edge of the island. It was so beautiful. They’d always thought so.

  Kraj kept talking, pointedly ignoring the endermen pointedly ignoring him. The ways of adults were very strange. I have journeyed to the Overworld many, many times. I have always returned. I have been attacked by humans, cut and beaten. I have barely avoided being caught in the rain. I have served the Great Chaos in the Overworld and the End. And I must warn you that humans have discovered a terrible secret to use against us. For centuries, they could not hide from the ender gaze. Once we saw them, they were ours. But in the Overworld there grows a certain squash, a certain gourd, a pumpkin round and thick. If you had not journeyed as far and as long as I, perhaps you might not have noticed it. Bushes here and there, vines that looked black and welcoming, like endermen, somehow. Friendly. Kind. The humans discovered this. They hollow out these pumpkins and wear them like helmets. When they hoist the gourd-helm over their cursed skulls, we cannot tell the difference between them and an enderman. They can walk among us, spies, secret operatives, double agents! Even now, the humans could already be among us, and we would suspect nothing!