Destruction of the Overworld

by Mark Cheverton

  Xa-Tul smiled up at the enderman king, his sharp pointed zombie-teeth shining in the green light of the HP fountains.

  “Xa-Tul doesn’t like the king of the endermen and does not trust him,” the zombie king growled. “The zombies will not listen to these childish stories and be made to look like fools. Be gone from zombie-town and never return. Feyd is no longer welcome here.” Xa-Tul then raised his voice so that all could hear, the tone changing from an explanation to that of a command. “If Feyd ever returns to our home, the zombies will protect themselves and fall on the king of the endermen as though he were an invader. Leave, now, while you still can!”

  “So you refuse?” Feyd asked, a wry smile showing on his face. “Good. I will enjoy watching when the Maker comes here himself. He will not be happy.”

  “Be gone, enderman, and take your pathetic stories with you,” Xa-Tul moaned.

  Glaring at the zombies nearest the obsidian platform, he motioned them to advance. With a growl, the zombies climbed up onto the dais and approached the enderman, arms extended and claws glistening.

  Glancing about him, Feyd saw the monsters closing in. With eyes flaring bright white, he disappeared and teleported to the cavern entrance before any of them could get close. He glared down on the collection of fools, his eyes blazing with anger.

  “You have made your choice, Xa-Tul, and have chosen your fate,” Feyd screeched. “Now it is up to the Maker to choose your punishment. Enjoy the consequences of your decision!”

  The king of the endermen let out a wicked cackle, then disappeared in a cloud of purple mist.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE COUNCIL OF CRAFTERS

  Gameknight emerged from the tunnel and sighed. They were finally home, back in Crafter’s village. Familiar people greeted him as he stepped out of the minecart and lifted the metallic vehicle off the tracks. After placing it in a nearby chest, Gameknight scanned the sea of faces for Crafter. He found him inspecting a pile of swords built by some of the workers in the crafting chamber. Carefully testing the edge of the blades with his blocky thumb, the young NPC nodded as he placed the iron sword back in the pile, the NPCs nearby beaming with pride. Weaving his way around crafting benches and minecart rails, Gameknight moved to his friend’s side.

  “Everyone looks busy,” he said.

  “They’ve been working hard while we were gone,” Crafter said. “They all heard the strained music and know something is going on; they just don’t know what it is . . . yet.”

  “Perhaps we should keep the details of . . . you know who . . . and his dark friends to ourselves until after we talk to the other crafters,” Gameknight suggested in a low voice.

  Crafter nodded, his blond hair falling into his face and covering one of his bright blue eyes.

  Off to the side of the chamber, Gameknight could see his father talking to some of the workers. With his sword, the monkey sketched something on the ground and the NPC workers nodded their understanding. Curious, Gameknight crossed the chamber and tapped his father on the arm. As he turned to face his son, the workers moved off, heading up the steps and to the village.

  “What are you doing?” the User-that-is-not-a-user asked.

  “Just giving the workers something to do,” Monkeypants replied, a guilty look on his face.

  What are you up to, Dad? he thought.

  “Gameknight, Monkeypants—this way,” Crafter said over the din of the crafting chamber.

  Gameknight saw Crafter standing against a blank wall of stone, his pickaxe in his hand. Gameknight motioned for his father to follow and then moved through the busy cavern. Stepping over minecart tracks and curving around workers, the father and son snaked their way through the busy room until they stood next to the young NPC leader.

  “I thought we needed to talk to the Council of Crafters?” Gameknight said.

  “We do,” Crafter replied.

  Gameknight looked around the busy chamber. There was only one way in and one way out: the tall flight of steps that led to the tunnels and the surface. The User-that-is-not-a-user gave his friend a confused look.

  “We have to go down near the bedrock level,” Crafter replied, answering the unasked question.

  “Bedrock level?” Monkeypants asked.

  “When you dig down to the lowest levels of Minecraft, you find bedrock,” Gameknight explained. “It’s not possible to break through bedrock when you’re in survival mode, so that’s as far as you can go.”

  “What’s on the other side of the bedrock?” his father asked.

  “The void,” Gameknight answered.

  “Exactly,” Crafter replied. “And it is through the void that we are able to communicate with the other crafters.”

  “What?” Gameknight asked.

  Crafter ignored the question and swung his pickaxe. The sharp iron tip dug into the wall, sending sharp gray shards of stone flying in all directions. After three quick hits, the block disappeared, revealing a dark passageway. Crafter smashed a second box and created a small opening. Looking over the young NPC’s shoulder, Gameknight could see a long stairway that plunged down into the flesh of Minecraft. Torches were placed economically along the sidewall, creating small circles of light amidst the darkness.

  “The council chamber is down here,” Crafter said, running down the steps without hesitation. Gameknight gave his father a questioning glance, then followed his friend, Monkeypants just a step behind. As they descended, he tried to count the number of stairs, but quickly lost track. He knew the crafting chamber was maybe twenty blocks below the surface of the village, so the bedrock would likely be another hundred blocks beneath that.

  Descending from one circle of torchlight to the next, Gameknight thought about all those NPCs that had perished at the hand, or claw, of Herobrine and his army of endermen. How was he going to battle Herobrine, now that the terrible virus was in dragon form? It was hard enough just battling Herobrine, or the dragon, but combined? It was impossible.

  I just want to run away and hide, Gameknight thought. I know I can’t do that to my friends, though—they need me. But what if I fail and get some of them hurt, or worse?

  Waves of uncertainty and fear flooded through his mind as he followed the distant form of Crafter. He was tempted many times to stop and retreat, but Gameknight could hear his father’s steps right behind him. Surprisingly, the thought of his dad being right there pushed back a little on the shadowy specters of fear that prowled his mind. His dad’s confidence and positive outlook was shockingly comforting.

  Maybe with his father’s help, he could . . .

  Suddenly, they were there. Before him sat a chamber lit with a single torch. It was only three blocks high, but stretched out in all directions beyond the circle of illumination cast by the flickering light. The ground was covered with cold, striped blocks of black and gray, their appearance almost dizzying as they stretched out into the darkness.

  Near the staircase, Gameknight could see a 3-by-3 grid of diamond blocks. Sitting atop the center block was a beacon, but it was dark and silent. No light streamed from the glassy block. Its interior was a cool glacial blue.

  “What is that?” Monkeypants asked.

  “It’s a beacon,” Gameknight replied. “It can send a beam of light high into the air and give you special capabilities when you are near. But right now it’s not active.”

  “It doesn’t look like it is doing anything,” his father commented.

  “That’s right, it’s not,” Crafter replied. “It needs clear air directly above it, and there is a block up there covering it up.”

  “Do we need to go up and break it away?” Gameknight asked.

  Crafter shook his head. Reaching to the ground behind the diamond blocks, Gameknight could see the young NPC flip a lever. Instantly a line of redstone powder lit up and turned bright red. The trail of red dust led across the bedrock until it ended at a stack of cobblestone. But instead of it being a continuous stack of stone, a redstone torch sat between each pair of bloc
ks: a redstone ladder. As soon as the signal reached the first block, the redstone torches activated. Every other one lit up and glowed red, while the others stayed dark. This allowed the signal to traverse vertically up to some kind of mechanism. Gameknight heard a piston move somewhere far away, the sound barely audible through the redstone ladder.

  Suddenly, the beacon came to life and a shaft of brilliant white light shot up into the air. The glow from the beam lit the bedrock chamber, pushing back the shadows in all directions. Looking about him, Gameknight could now see that the cavern extended out as far as the render distance would allow.

  Gameknight noticed the beam was actually a square shaft of light that appeared to be slowly rotating about its center. The middle of the beam looked almost solid, but when Gameknight moved his hand through the intense light, he felt it tingle.

  The beacon was humming and crackling as though it were alived. It reminded Gameknight of an angry hive of bees or an old static-filled radio. It almost reminded him of the digitizer that first time he’d been accidently transported into Minecraft.

  “That’s a beacon?” Monkeypants asked, his eyes wide with excitement. He was transfixed, his face filled with wonder at the beautiful display of light.

  “Yep, that’s a beacon,” Gameknight said, nodding his head.

  “Down here, near the void, it lets us communicate with the other server planes,” Crafter added. “The other beacons will start to hum, telling their crafters to activate their own beacons. In no time, we will be able to talk with them. But remember—”

  Suddenly, a crackling sound erupted from the shaft of light as another humming sound could be heard. But the new humming was a different note than their beacon. The two sounds harmonizing together.

  “Ahh, someone has already joined,” Crafter said with a smile, then leaned toward Gameknight999. “Please be quiet and listen. The Council of Crafters can only be attended by full crafters, so you must remain silent.”

  Gameknight and Monkeypants both nodded their heads.

  Moving up next to the beacon, the young NPC placed three blocks of wool on the ground, then sat on one. He pointed at Gameknight and Monkeypants and gestured to the soft cubes. The father and son sat down and stared at the beautiful shaft of light. In minutes, they could hear multiple tones humming from the beacon, the entire ensemble sounding like an orchestra of bees, each buzzing their own instrument in a fantastic, harmonious symphony.

  “Are we all here?” Crafter asked.

  Buzzing voices floated from the shaft of light, each one affirming their presence.

  “We are all here, Crafter,” one of the voices said. “Why have you called this unexpected meeting of the council?”

  “Our ancient foe still lives and threatens Minecraft,” Crafter said as he leaned forward and spoke into the beacon like it was a microphone.

  “How can this be?” one of the voices hummed. “You cast him into the void. The evil lights in his eyes extinguished—you saw this yourself. Now you say he is back . . . inconceivable.”

  “There is much we do not understand about the void,” Crafter said. “Perhaps it is only deadly to creatures of the Overworld and not—”

  “We know it is deadly to all creatures,” snapped a lower tone from the shaft of light. “If you threw him in, then he is gone and you must be mistaken.”

  “He cannot have survived,” another voice said, “unless you were mistaken about Herobrine falling into the emptiness.”

  “No, I am not mistaken!” Crafter snapped. “It must have happened because—”

  “It doesn’t matter how it happened!” Gameknight shouted. Getting up from the wool, he stood right in front of the shaft of light. He could feel his heart pump faster, as though he were sprinting. He felt his legs strengthen, as if they could propel him much higher up into the air. “Listen to me, Herobrine is back in the Overworld, but in the form of the Ender Dragon. He is leading an army of endermen and—”

  Like the buzzing of an angry hive, the voices of the other crafters all came across the beacon at the same time. They argued and shouted, some believing this was the end of Minecraft, while others claimed that it was a lie.

  “Wait a minute, everyone be quiet,” one voice said, the sound of command filling their voice. The other crafters became silent. “Who is this talking?”

  “This is Gameknight999, the User-that-is-not-a-user,” he shouted with pride, “and I have seen the Herobrine-dragon with my own eyes.”

  “A user?!” the crafters exclaimed. “The beacons are only for crafters. Crafter, what have you done? You have transgressed the law.”

  “No, I haven’t,” Crafter replied. “The law states that the beacons are for crafters and not for NPCs. Gameknight999 and his father are not NPCs.”

  “His father is there, too?!” someone else yelled.

  “You crafters need to focus on what is important,” Gameknight said, his voice stern, as if he were lecturing a small child. “Herobrine is wiping out village after village as he moves across Minecraft. I don’t think he will stop until he destroys everything. Since he obviously still has his teleportation powers, when he finishes with this server, he will go to the next one and the next one until all of the server planes are wiped clean.”

  “He must be stopped!” shouted one crafter.

  “It cannot be allowed!” said another.

  “No, we can’t let him . . .”

  “It isn’t right, we will . . .”

  “Stand and fight with . . .”

  All of the crafters spoke at once until the leader finally quelled the confusion.

  “Brothers,” the leader said. “This is dire news. Herobrine must be stopped. The User-that-is-not-a-user is correct: if Herobrine isn’t stopped on that server, then he will eventually destroy everything. At that point, the pyramid of server plains will destabilize and all of it will come crashing down, giving him access to the Source. He must be stopped.”

  Crafter sighed. Gameknight could see a look of resignation on his friend’s face. Gameknight knew his friend had an idea, and was dreading voicing it. Crafter sighed again.

  “I know what must be done,” Crafter said.

  The voices on the other side of the beacons became silent.

  “Herobrine cannot be allowed to leave this server plane,” Crafter explained. “We will try to stop him, but if we cannot, then this plane must be disconnected from the Source.”

  A gasp came from the beam, the buzzing voices clearly in shock at what was just said.

  “Crafter is right,” the commanding voice said. “If they cannot stop the enemy, and he tries to teleport from that server, then it must be severed from the pyramid of servers and from the Source. Is it agreed?”

  Murmurs of affirmation buzzed from the shaft of light, but with each confirmation, Crafter’s face became more determined . . . and scared.

  “The vote is complete. We will do as Crafter suggests,” the leader explained. “Crafter, do what you must. User-that-is-not-a-user, we need you now more than ever. Please help us, for the lives of everyone on all the server planes rests in your hands.”

  The voices then silenced as the harmonious buzzing from the beacon slowly disappeared, leaving just its shaft of light. Reaching to the lever, Crafter turned off the redstone circuit, causing the piston high overhead to move back into place, blocking the beam and extinguishing the beacon.

  Bathed in just the torchlight of the bedrock chamber, Gameknight could see the look of worry on his friend’s face.

  “Crafter, what did they mean, ‘Sever it from the pyramid’?” Gameknight asked.

  Crafter stood and turned to look at the father and son. Eerie shadows stretched across his stern face as he picked up the block of cotton and put it back into his inventory.

  “Crafter . . . what is it?” Gameknight asked again.

  His friend took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, fear and uncertainty filling his bright blue eyes.

  “We cannot allow Herobrine to take h
is campaign of destruction across the server planes,” the young NPC explained. “If that happens, he could destabilize everything. He has to be stopped on this server, at any cost.”

  “Of course. We’re going to do everything we can to stop him,” Gameknight affirmed. “We aren’t going to stop trying until we are successful.”

  “Yes, I know,” Crafter answered. “But if we cannot stop him, and it looks as if he is going to teleport to a new server plane, then the other crafters will have no choice but to disconnect us from the Source.”

  “How do they do that?” Monkeypants asked.

  “You weren’t at the Source,” Crafter said. “But Gameknight was there. He knows what it looks like.”

  Gameknight nodded his head.

  “Each world is connected to the Source through a beacon that looks like this one before you,” Crafter continued. “The other crafters will watch our progress, and if it looks like we cannot stop Herobrine, then they will shatter the beacon that leads to our server, disconnecting us from the pyramid of server planes, and the Source.”

  “So what?” Gameknight asked. “That will give us more time to defeat Herobrine. He won’t be able to escape.”

  Crafter turned and faced his friend, a look of grim resolution on his square face.

  “You don’t get it. If the crafters disconnect our server from the Source, then our server will crash and all computer code will be stopped.” Crafter reached out and placed a hand on Gameknight’s shoulder. “It will be the end of everything here.”

  “You mean you will . . .”

  Crafter nodded his head. “All life on the server will cease. We will all die, including Herobrine. That is the weapon of last resort, but with Herobrine in the Ender Dragon’s body, we can’t take any chances. Better to sacrifice one world than lose them all.”

  Gameknight was stunned; he didn’t know how to respond. This wasn’t a solution. It was extermination!

  This is too much, Gameknight thought. If I can’t stop Herobrine, then everyone on this server will die. How can I handle all that responsibility?