What had he said? Erebus thought, and then the scratchy words floated through his memory. ‘One side’s hero is the other side’s villain.’
“What do you craft?” Erebus said in a low voice to no one as he eyed the suspicious creature.
I have to keep my eye on that one, and the other shadow-crafters, he thought. I don’t trust any of them.
But first, it was time to destroy Minecraft and that annoying User-that-is-not-a-user.
“Monsters . . . to the Source,” Erebus screeched as he walked toward the bedrock portal, where Gameknight and the warriors of Minecraft had just disappeared. “I’m finally coming for you, User-that-is-not-a-user,” the King of the Endermen shrieked. “And you don’t have those annoying users to help you this time.”
And Erebus cackled another of his spine-tingling laughs that echoed across the very fabric of Minecraft.
CHAPTER 33
THE SOURCE
Gameknight999 materialized in another strange land. The sky had the same look to it as in The End, a hazy, dark covering that blotted out the stars and left him feeling as if he were stuck in some kind of void. But instead of finding the pale yellow end stone that made up The End, here everything was bedrock. There were no obsidian towers, no ender crystals, no dragon . . . just a featureless sea of bedrock. The dark blocks stretched out in all directions and disappeared in the distance where they met the starless dark sky. The darkness of this land was oppressive, and felt as if it sucked away all his courage.
Turning to survey the landscape, Gameknight saw a thin shaft of light stretching up into the sky; the Source. And in this sea of dark stone and black sky, the Source felt like a beacon of hope. He could see it stretching up into the sky from the top of a huge mountain, the detail of the mighty peak hidden by distance.
“This way . . . and hurry,” Gameknight shouted as he headed toward the beacon.
Sprinting forward, he headed straight for the shining beacon, moving across the featureless landscape as fast as he could. This was the thing they’d come to protect and they had to get to it and prepare before Malacoda and his monsters arrived.
It was hard to judge the size of the mountain due to the lack of trees or structures with which to compare it, but as he closed the distance, Gameknight was amazed at the size of the thing. It must have been at least three hundred blocks across at the base, and maybe two hundred to the top. The size of the mountainous structure would have easily dwarfed Malacoda’s Nether fortress. This was the biggest thing Gameknight had ever seen in Minecraft.
Stopping for a moment to catch his breath, he surveyed the bedrock mount, looking for a way up. The sides were nearly vertical. Many places were a two or three-block jump. And with it being made from bedrock, there was no way to carve steps.
Then, off to the left, he noticed a shape near the foot of the mountain. It looked like a giant triangle had been built out of bedrock, the top of the triangle disappearing into the side of the mountain. Running toward it, he realized that it was a set of steps that climbed upward to the summit.
“OVER HERE!” he shouted to the footsteps he heard behind him.
Turning, he sprinted toward the gigantic stairway. As he ran, Gameknight glanced over his shoulder. He could see the entire army spread out into a long line of men, women, and kids, all heading straight for him. They had looks of wonder and grim determination on the faces, as if this were the most amazing place in the world . . . and the most terrible.
Every one of them knew what was going to happen here, and that thought filled all with dread.
When he finally reached the foot of the stairs, Gameknight paused. The steps climbed upward, forming a massive incline that halfway up started to cut into the mountain. As it carved the straight path into the body of the mountain, it left sheer walls on either side, vertical sides that none could climb except maybe the giant spiders. Gameknight could see that the stairway must have been at least thirty blocks across; too wide to defend. They needed a place where they could make their stand and he knew that the NPCs were completely outnumbered.
“We have to find a place where we can defend the Source,” Gameknight yelled to his friends. “Hurry, to the top of the hill.” Gameknight sprinted forward trying to reach the brilliant shaft of light that was lancing upward from the mountaintop. As he climbed higher and higher, the massive beacon started to become more visible. He could see that it was not just one shaft of light stretching up into the sky but many, all forming what looked from far away to be a single, brilliant column of light that extended up into the featureless sky.
“We’re almost to the top,” he yelled as he ran even harder.
When he finally reached the summit, Gameknight gaped in wonder at what he saw. Not a single massive beacon; in fact, it was nine beacons all right next to each other, their diamond centers all aglow. The cluster was mounted on top of a pyramid of diamond blocks three layers high.
Herder would have liked to see this, he thought, then sighed.
The light from the beacons was nearly impossible to look at. Gameknight had to shade his eyes, and when he blocked out the blazing light, he was surprised to notice a field of beacons behind the Source that seemed to stretch out forever. Moving carefully around the massive diamond pyramid, he looked across the mountaintop. It wasn’t really a mountain at all, but a gigantic plateau that was completely flat and covered with individual beacons, each spaced four blocks apart. But the strange thing was, all of the individual beacons were dark save one. The darkness of the beacons looked sad, like an entire world of lives had been lost for each.
He looked back at the army that was now reaching the top of the mountain, but the size of the plateau made him realize how few there were. When he’d started this journey, it seemed that there had been so many NPCs willing to fight against the shadow of evil that was spreading across Minecraft, but now, looking at those that remained, it seemed so few.
They’d lost so many.
And then he thought back to all the battles they’d faced: Crafter’s village against Erebus’s monsters of the Overworld, the users in the chamber of lava, the failed battle in the Nether where Crafter had been saved and Hunter captured, the battle for the Iron Rose, and finally the battle for the Ender Dragon’s Egg.
All of these battles had led them here, to the Last Battle for Minecraft, the battle for the Source. All of those previous battles had destroyed lives and taken loved ones from families. They had chipped away at their army until only a hundred or so defenders remained. How many monsters would they have to face? Could they even do this?
Hearing sounds behind him, he spun around quickly. Crafter was standing in front of the tall pyramid of diamond blocks, his mouth agape, a look of shock and awe on his face.
“It’s beautiful,” he said as his blue eyes grew wider.
And then Hunter was at his side. She too was overwhelmed by what she saw. They could all feel the power in that burning shaft of light and knew that this was the Source, the heart of Minecraft. If the monsters made it up here and destroyed this, then all of Minecraft would cease to exist. Moving up close to the Source, Gameknight stepped up one level, standing on one of the diamond blocks. Holding his hand in front of his eyes to shield them from the unbelievable glare, he tried to look into the shaft of light. He could see something flowing in the beam, moving in long strings. And then he realized what it was: 1’s and 0’s moving through the Source; the computer code spreading out to all the other servers.
“Be careful,” Woodbrin said. “That is the pure data stream. No one in Minecraft can touch the data stream and survive. It will disassemble you and send you out as individual bits to all the servers it’s connected to.” He stepped up next to User-that-is-not-a-user and pulled out a block of wood. Flashing him a wry smile, Woodbrin tossed the block of wood into the shaft of light. Instantly, the block vaporized into 1’s and 0’s that streaked away. “Nothing survives the data stream. To touch the beam is to commit suicide.”
“Wha
t of the other beacons?” Gameknight asked.
“Extinguished by the monsters of Minecraft,” answered Woodbrin in his staccato voice.
Looking across the field of beacons, he could see one still lit.
“And that one?”
“That is the server that you saved,” Woodbrin answered.
Crafter’s server!
Gameknight nodded and stepped back from the Source only to bump into Hunter. Turning, he was shocked at how bright and vibrant her red hair was in the white light. It was beautiful, and for a moment, all of the worries that nagged his soul, the fears that were ready to devour him, the responsibility for all of these lives both within Minecraft and in the physical world . . . all of these concerns seemed to momentarily evaporate when he looked into Hunter’s eyes. And then Mason shoved his way through the collection of soldiers that now stood on the hill top, his booming voice echoing across the plateau.
“User-that-is-not-a-user, what are your commands?” Mason boomed.
Gameknight looked at the plateau that would soon become a battlefield and looked for a solution. He could feel the puzzle pieces tumbling around in his head, but he couldn’t see them. And then one clicked into place, one of the pieces of the solution that would allow them to survive this battle and save Minecraft, but Gameknight couldn’t quite understand it. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on that piece, but all he saw was a small shaft of light. And then an ethereal voice echoed through the darkest recesses of his mind. It was a familiar voice, a comforting voice, a confident voice.
G . . . A . . . M . . . E . . . K . . .
He couldn’t quite figure out what it was saying. Concentrating harder, he focused his attention on the voice.
G . . . A . . . M . . . E . . . K . . . N . . . I . . . G . . .
Suddenly, one of the NPCs screamed. Snapping his eyes open, Gameknight moved to the sound. One of the warriors was pointing out across the bedrock plain toward the portal. Turning in that direction, Gameknight could see the obsidian platform on which they had materialized glowing a bright purple as monsters flowed onto the bedrock landscape. A grumbling sound came from his left. Turning, he found Mason standing at his side, sword drawn, an angry sort of growling sound coming from the big NPC.
Monsters streamed out of the portal and headed straight for the mountaintop, toward the Source. It was like watching an endless flood of blazes, zombies, spiders, ghasts, magma-cubes, slimes . . . every kind of monster in Minecraft was moving onto this island. The flow of monsters seemed endless.
“They’re coming,” Mason said with a grim voice. “There must be five hundred monsters, maybe even a thousand, right behind Erebus.” He reached up with a blocky hand and stroked his neatly trimmed beard, his eyes scanning the faces of his warriors. “I fear there is no way for us to stop that horde.” His voice then turned sad, as if he were talking about the death of a dear friend. “Minecraft is doomed.”
Gameknight sighed.
“Do not despair, User-that-is-not-a-user,” Crafter said, his aged voice resonating across the mountaintop. “You did all that could be done. There is no shame in failing after doing your best.”
“What are you talking about?” Hunter snapped, her voice filled with anger. “If we lose, then we lose. There is nothing to be proud about. If we lose this battle, then everything is lost . . . all the lives across the multitude of server planes, everything! I will not accept that we are defeated, not until we are all dead.”
She fitted an arrow to her bow and moved to stand at the top of the sloping hill, putting herself between the field of beacons and the approaching horde. Mason moved to stand at her side, his diamond sword shining bright. The surviving soldiers on the plateau then moved behind their commander, each drawing sword or bow, ready for their own personal Last Battle.
Gameknight turned and looked at Crafter. The young boy with the old eyes looked up at him, a look of sadness across his face.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more,” Crafter said in a low voice, his words meant only for Gameknight. “You’ve seen the horde below. You know we cannot defeat Erebus and the monsters of the night this time. We have barely a hundred soldiers left. They cannot stop the approaching tide of destruction.”
Crafter turned to look up at the massive beacon, the Source, and sighed.
“I guess there is nothing left to do other than fight and die,” Crafter said as he drew his own blade.
Gameknight looked at the scene with an overwhelming sadness. Had he led them to this point, to failure? Was there really nothing left to do? He couldn’t bear to witness the destruction of his friends . . . of Minecraft.
This all seemed like déjà vu, like he’d seen this before. And then suddenly remembered, he’d had this dream those many weeks ago. He’d seen this event through the Land of Dreams, and he’d seen the outcome . . . his cowardice . . . his failure.
He could now hear the moaning of the monsters as they approached, the clicking of spiders, wheezing of blazes, and wailing cries of the ghasts.
NO, he would not let it end this way. He was the User-that-is-not-a-user and he didn’t come here to be defeated!
Closing his eyes, he focused on the pieces of the puzzle again. And the distant, ethereal voice was there again, but it was clearer, he could almost recognize it.
GAMEKNIGHT999 ARE YOU THERE?
Suddenly he recognized the voice; Shawny. And then the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.
Moving quickly to the lone beacon that still stretched up into the sky, Gameknight stood next to Crafter’s server.
“There is still one thing to do,” Gameknight said to all the NPCs.
Putting away his sword, the Use-that-is-not-a-user stepped up right up next to the beacon, the shaft of blazing light just inches from his face. He could feel the unbelievable blast of energy from the beam, like all the heat from the Nether all compressed into this glowing ray. Small square beads of sweat instantly formed on his face.
He was afraid. The terrible energy in this beam of light made his entire being shake as the serpent of fear that lay within his soul slowly awakened.
“Gameknight, what are you doing?” Crafter screamed.
“That’s suicide . . . the coward’s way,” Hunter yelled. “Don’t give up, fight with us . . . with me.” There was a peculiar sadness now to her voice, her eyes pleading for him to abandon this path.
“This is still something I must do,” Gameknight999 said in a loud voice.
Looking at his friends, he saw disbelief on all their faces. They had all heard what Woodbrin had said about touching the searing pillar of light, that nothing could survive that encounter, but Gameknight knew, despite the overwhelming sense of fear and panic that was filling his mind, that he had to follow this through. As he moved closer to the brilliant shaft of blazing death, Mason stepped away from the other NPCs and stood next to Gameknight, a curious knowing smile on his face.
“No, not you too,” Hunter cried, disbelief in her voice.
“You will come to understand in time,” Mason replied with a sad voice.
Moving to the other side of the beacon, Mason grasped his sword with both hands, tip pointing down, and plunged it into the ground. It sounded like a crack of thunder when it pierced the bedrock and sank deep into the dark block, causing the whole landscape to shake. Holding onto the hilt with one blocky hand, he then extended his other to the User-that-is-not-a-user, his green eyes locked onto Gameknight’s.
“You have to believe in yourself with all your strength in order to do something truly amazing,” Mason said in a low voice, almost a whisper. “To create something from nothing, from just an idea in your imagination, takes strength and courage, but more importantly, it takes an unwavering belief that you can accomplish anything no matter how difficult.” He paused to look back at the warriors, the look of disbelief still painted on their faces. Turning back to Gameknight, he leaned down and spoke in an even lower voice. “And when you find yourself at your limits, and you feel l
ike you can’t take anymore, you need to just hold on to your courage and squeeze it tight. You need to wrap your arms around the very fabric of your being and REFUSE to let go, because only in giving up is there failure.” The big NPC patted Gameknight999 on the shoulder. “Now, let’s make a bridge.”
Mason stood up straight and gripped the hilt of his sword firmly, then spoke in a surprisingly soft and reassuring voice.
“For Minecraft.”
“For Minecraft,” the User-that-is-not-a-user answered as he grasped Mason’s hand, then stepped into the blazing hot shaft of light.
All at once, everything went intensely bright as pain erupted throughout his entire body. It felt like every nerve was aflame and his body was being consumed by pure energy. He could see 1’s and 0’s zooming past him in the blaze of the beacon as his own body started to dissolve, but something that Mason had said still echoed in his mind.
Believe . . . I have to believe that I can do this!
Gathering his courage, he pushed aside the serpent of fear that circled his soul and stood up straight, refusing the yield. Feeling the grip of Mason’s hand in his buoyed his strength; for some reason, he felt that link was critical and he could not let go or all would be lost. Gripping his hand firmly, Gameknight999 wrapped his arm around his chest and held onto his body . . . his courage . . . his soul, and he refused to let go. Part of him tried to dissolve into individual bits, tiny 1’s and 0’s, but the force of his will was too great. He had to refuse to fail. And then an image of his sister popped into his mind. She was sitting on her bed playing with her stuffed animals, defenseless, and he refused to let her go. He thought about his friends on the mountaintop, about Crafter, about Hunter and Stitcher, and refused to let them go. He thought about all the lives throughout Minecraft, about the new crafter, Digger, about Fisher, and refused to let them go. He thought about all the people in both worlds that were relying on him at this very moment, and refused to let any of them go. Pulling himself together with all his strength he grasped the shaft of light using every bit of his courage and anger and rage and hope . . . and squeezed.
Confronting the Dragon Page 24
