Moving out of the village, the monsters clustered on a sandy dune and watched as the wooden structures burned, then turned to stone as the transformation wave flowed across the fiery walls.
As he glided over the defeated village, Herobrine saw his enderman king on a high dune sitting atop his ender-horse, purple teleportation particles hovering nearby. Turning in a sharp arc, the dragon gracefully settled to the ground beside him.
“The battle was well fought,” Feyd said as he bowed to the Maker.
“You are a fool,” Herobrine growled, his eyes flaring bright. “We lost probably a hundred monsters, most of them zombies and skeletons, of course.”
Herobrine glared up at the enderman, his eyes glowing brighter.
“Get off that foolish horse,” the dragon commanded.
Quickly, Feyd dismounted, then pushed the horse away. The animal moved near one of the obsidian pillars starting to sprout out of the fresh new End Stone.
“Your endermen are useless in battle,” Herobrine stated in a loud grumbling voice. “The skeletons and zombies do all the work while your ridiculous followers just stand back and watch.”
“It is not our fault, Maker; it is how we are programmed,” Feyd said quickly.
Sensing the danger, he took a step back from the Maker, but the dragon moved closer. Swinging his tail around, Herobrine placed it behind the enderman so that he could not escape.
“We must . . . be directly attacked . . . in order to become enraged so that we can . . . fight,” Feyd stammered, his eyes filled with fear.
“Unacceptable,” Herobrine said as his dragon-eyes glowed even brighter.
“But we cannot—” Feyd tried to respond but was silenced.
“Be quiet!” the Ender Dragon snapped.
Closing his blazing eyes, Herobrine focused on his shadow-crafting powers. Reaching deep within the lines of AI code that governed his programming, he felt for that familiar pool of energy that enabled him to modify segments of Minecraft’s computer code. As he concentrated, he could feel a tingling sensation spread across his clawed hand. His dark talons slowly started to glow a pale sickly yellow, not like the End Stone, which was closer to beige. No, this was a color that had the look of illness and disease to it, as if everything wrong in the world was packed in those glowing claws.
Reaching out with his sharp talons, he plunged them into Feyd’s body. Instantly, the king of the endermen went rigid with shock and pain.
“Don’t move, if you value your life,” Herobrine growled as he closed his eyes and concentrated.
Slowly, the insipid yellow glow oozed into the enderman, making the creature glow all over with the gross color. The enderman opened his toothy mouth as if enraged and in terrible pain, yet at the same time, his eyes glowed bright white with exhilaration and excitement. Yellow light leaked out of his open mouth, casting an eerie glow on the moon-lit desert.
Herobrine opened his eyes and slowly turned his head. Gazing across the desert, he could see all the endermen standing still, their mouths agape like Feyd’s. Each glowed with the same sickly illumination, as if a diseased light shone from deep inside. The zombies and skeletons moved away from their shadowy brothers, afraid of what was happening.
Sensing that the job was done, Herobrine withdrew his claws from the king of the endermen and stepped back.
“There. How do you feel now?” Herobrine said, a maniacal grin on the dragon’s face.
“What did you do, Maker?” Feyd asked.
A cow moo’ed somewhere out in the darkness. Likely the creature had escaped from the village during the battle. However it got there, Herobrine didn’t care. It would not be alive long enough to matter. Flapping his mighty wings, he took to the air and followed the sound.
“Feyd, teleport to that cow,” the Maker commanded.
“Why would I—”
“JUST DO IT!” roared the dragon.
Herobrine watched the king of the endermen disappear and then reappear near the docile creature. Settling to the ground, the Ender Dragon looked at the cow, then glanced at Feyd.
“Destroy it,” Herobrine commanded.
“You know we cannot attack a creature of the Overworld unless we are provoked,” Feyd explained.
Herobrine moved a step closer to the shadowy creature, then spoke in a low, angry voice.
“Destroy the cow before I destroy you.”
Fear crept into the enderman’s eyes. Balling his hand into a fist, Feyd looked at the cow. As he readied his attack, a mist of sickly yellow particles enveloped the monster. With lightning speed, the king of the endermen attacked the cow, striking it from all directions at once. In seconds, the creature disappeared, leaving behind some glowing balls of XP and a piece of leather.
Staring down at the yellow sparks that danced around his body, Feyd was shocked. When the enderman glanced up at the Maker, Herobrine could see questions tumbling around in the creature’s pathetically small mind.
“I changed you,” Herobrine said in a loud voice that boomed across the desert. “I changed all the endermen so that you would be useful in my war against the NPCs. Your computer code has been modified so that you can now attack without being provoked. Every enderman is now a lethal weapon—my lethal weapon. And in the next battle, I will aim my new weapons at the User-that-is-not-a-user. We will see if he likes my little surprise.”
Laughing, Herobrine took to the air, his eyes blazing bright. The sickly yellow glow that had just surrounded the king of the endermen now faded away, leaving him his normal color. Feyd looked again like a shadow in the darkness.
“We will rain destruction down upon the next village and the next and the next, until we have eradicated them all,” Herobrine boomed. “And when the last of the NPCs have been turned to End Stone, I will stare Gameknight999 in the eyes and behold his despair. Overcome with grief, completely alone, he will finally take the Gateway of Light back to the physical world, and I will travel there with him.”
He flapped his wings and flew higher. To the east, the sun started to rise, the terrain glowing with the orange light of dawn.
“Bring me more monsters!” he yelled. “I want the biggest army ever seen in Minecraft. Every single skeleton, zombie, and enderman from this server must be with me when I face the User-that-is-not-a-user again. When he sees the magnitude of my army, he will cower in fright and beg for mercy.”
CHAPTER 24
THE FOG LIFTS
Gameknight was overwhelmed by the bitter taste of failure. The battle in the desert had destroyed a lot of monsters, but the vast number of troops Herobrine still commanded was mind-boggling. They had made just the slightest dent in his machine of destruction at the cost of many NPC lives.
Those poor villagers had expected the User-that-is-not-a-user to keep them safe, Gameknight thought. And instead, I got them killed . . .
Every fiber in his soul screamed at him: FAILURE!
He had to do something fast to defeat Herobrine and his army of monsters, but everything he’d tried hadn’t worked. Gameknight was so frustrated, he could hardly think.
“I hate this responsibility. How can I do this?” he said to the dark minecart tunnel. “I’m so afraid to fail that I’m now afraid to try.”
The images of villagers turned to End Stone played through his mind. Nothing he tried seemed to stop the flow of monsters and End Stone. First, it had just been the endermen, and then the zombies, and now skeletons. Where will it end?
He knew the answer to that question deep down in his soul: it would end at Crafter’s village. That would be the place where the NPCs of the Overworld had to stop Herobrine and his monster army. If they failed there, then Minecraft was doomed. The Council of Crafters would have no choice but to disconnect them from the Source.
But if they managed to stop Herobrine’s monster army, the transformation wave would still be out there, moving across the landscape, destroying all life. Stopping the monsters was not enough; they must also stop that transformation wave.
Closing his eyes, he thought about that terrible wave. He could see Herobrine spitting that terrible poison onto the ground, starting the wave, but as it flowed across the land, something had to be giving it energy to continue its terrible purpose. Those sparks along the edge, purple and pale yellow . . .
“Wait a minute,” Gameknight exclaimed aloud to the darkness. “The pale yellow sparks are the same as those that surround Herobrine. They were the sign of his crafting.”
He knew Herobrine’s powers took on that sickly yellow color; he’d seen it many times before. But when that wave moved across the surface of Minecraft, it had the same sparkling color. Suddenly, Gameknight realized what was keeping that wave moving across the land.
“It’s Herobrine’s crafting powers!” Gameknight shouted, his voice echoing down the tunnel.
From the darkness, he could hear his father shouting something, but he was too far away.
“Herobrine must be the source,” he murmured softly.
The music of Minecraft swelled, filling the tunnel with melodic tones and harmonious sounds. It was the Oracle; she was confirming his realization.
“Herobrine is the source, isn’t he?” Gameknight asked the Oracle, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “If we destroy the source, then the transformation wave will stop, is that correct?”
The music of Minecraft grew even louder.
“That’s it!”
Suddenly, Gameknight knew what he had to do to stop that terrible transformation wave: he had to destroy Herobrine. They didn’t need to stop the monsters, for there would always be more coming at them from the darkness. It was Herobrine who had to be stopped.
But how?
Gameknight knew that Herobrine would spit his purple poison onto the Overworld as soon as he felt his monsters were in trouble. He’d done it twice now and he’d do it again.
Another piece of the solution fell into place: the obsidian.
“Yes, of course, but how do we get him close enough for us to attack him?”
More and more parts of the puzzle emerged through the evaporating fog of fear that had clouded his mind for so long. Gameknight experienced a sudden burst of confidence. His father had been right; focusing on the fear only made things seem worse. But focusing his attention on something else, anything else, allowed him to think clearly.
Ideas rushed at him from all sides. Images of the battlefields formed in his head, where they would put the traps, and how they would ensnare the dragon.
“Water—we’ll use water, and dispensers, hundreds of them,” he said. “Surprise will be our ally.”
But would the villagers trust this crazy plan?
CHAPTER 25
GAMEKNIGHT’S SONG
When Gameknight’s minecart pulled into Crafter’s village, he found what he expected: panic.
“The dragon turned my dear Woodcutter to End Stone,” someone shouted.
“He destroyed Builder . . .”
“And Cobbler . . .”
“And Carver . . .”
The villagers were terrified. The dragon had spit his vile poison directly on the NPCs and instantly tore their lives from them, leaving behind a stone mockery of what they had once been. It was enraging and horrifying, something beyond belief.
Looking across the crafting chamber, Gameknight could see Crafter trying to calm the villagers’ fears, but he was just one small voice of reason trying to hold back a flood of uncertainty. Moving to his side, Gameknight spoke into the young NPC’s ear.
“Give me one of your fireworks.”
“What?” Crafter asked. “I hardly think this is the time to—”
“Just give me one!” Gameknight snapped.
Crafter looked confused, but handed him one of the rockets. Gameknight took it and gave him a smile, then leapt up into the air as he placed a block of stone under his feet. Jumping three more times, Gameknight stood high over all the NPCs’ heads, but this still did not quiet the crowd.
Leaning out, he placed a block of cobblestone on the side of the column on which he stood, then planted the rocket on the ground. It shot up into the air and exploded with a mighty BANG! high overhead. The green sparkling face of a creeper stared down at the frightened NPCs.
“You can choose to listen and survive or panic and die!” Gameknight shouted.
That got their attention; the NPCs turned to face him.
“But all those monsters . . .”
“And Herobrine . . .”
“Yes, yes, I know all about that,” Gameknight replied. “I was there, remember? Herobrine and his army are still coming, but we did what we set out to do: delay them so that we could prepare our defenses. Where’s Digger?”
“Here,” a deep voice boomed from across the chamber.
The stocky NPC pushed through the crush of people to stand at Gameknight’s side. Herder, who was covered with sweat and dirt from his labors, followed close behind.
“Are the defenses ready?” Gameknight asked.
“We did as Shawny instructed,” Digger replied. “I think we will have many new surprises in store for Herobrine and his monsters.”
“Excellent,” Gameknight said, “but I have a few more things that need to be built.” He scanned the crowd for the light-crafters and found the three of them huddled in the corner of the chamber. “I will need you three for something special. We’re going to build a net to catch us an annoying dragon.”
The light-crafters looked up at Gameknight and smiled.
“And where is Morgana?” Gameknight asked. “We will need many of the witch’s potions before the day is through. Where is she?”
“The witch fled as soon as she heard about Herobrine and his monsters,” someone shouted.
“I didn’t flee,” came a scratchy voice from the chamber entrance. “I went to the Nether for Nether Wart and glowstone dust. As soon as I heard Herobrine had an army of zombies, I knew what would be needed.”
“Potions of healing,” Gameknight said, nodding to the old woman.
“Exactly,” Morgana said, a wry smile flowing across her wrinkled face. “I have them brewing as we speak.”
“Perfect,” Gameknight said. “We’ll have need for many splash potions, but I need something else from you, as well.”
One side of the witch’s unibrow raised, a curious look on her face.
“We’ll need splash water bottles,” Gameknight said. “I want them for—”
“No need to explain, User-that-is-not-a-user,” the witch said. “Your intent is obvious. I’ll get started on it.”
Before Gameknight could say anything else, the aged NPC turned and headed back to Gameknight’s castle and her brewing lab.
“How are a few potions going to help us against Herobrine’s transformation wave?” one of the new NPCs asked. “I saw what it did to my village and my friends. You aren’t going to heal them with some Nether Wart and melon.”
“You’re right,” Gameknight said. “I don’t know how to heal those who have been transformed, but I do know how to prevent the transformation from happening ever again.”
The crafting chamber became deathly silent. Gameknight gazed across the sea of faces below him, making sure they could see the determination on his face.
“My father used to tell me something that I did not understand until recently,” Gameknight explained. “He told me that I was focusing too much on my fear, for I am terrified of failing all of you. I’m afraid that I might not be smart enough or strong enough to defeat Herobrine. The more I thought about my fear, the stronger its hold was on my mind, until I couldn’t even think. You see, I didn’t understand what my real strength was, what my song was.” He looked at his father and smiled. “And after what felt like a defeat in the last battle, I did some hard thinking in the minecart tunnels, and I finally realized what my talent is. And although I still think I’m usually good at it, it’s not griefing.”
The silence in the chamber was deafening. Gameknight could hear his pulse p
ounding in his ears, his heart beating with every CPU clock tick.
“You see, my talent is refusing to accept defeat. Even though I’m afraid of Herobrine and his mob, I will not be intimidated and terrorized. It reminds me too much of the bullies back at my school. I’ve been afraid for too long and I refuse to cower any longer. And as soon as I stopped focusing on my fears, the solutions appeared in my head with crystal clarity.”
“What must we do to stop the transformation wave?” one of the NPCs asked.
“The transformation wave has to get its energy from somewhere, for nothing comes for free in Minecraft. There must be a source for the code that drives that terrible wave. The grass gets the code to grow from the sun and water. The apples get their code from the trees, wool from the sheep, fish from the streams. . . . Everything is interconnected. All we need do is find the source for that tide of transformation and then seal it up like blocking a water source to stop a raging river.” Gameknight paused for a moment to let this sink in, then continued. “Destroy the source and we destroy the wave.”
“What is the source?” someone asked from behind him.
Turning, he found it was Crafter who had spoken, his big blue eyes filled with questions.
“Herobrine himself,” Gameknight said.
This caused a flurry of questions to erupt all at once. Gameknight held up his hand and brought the chamber back into order.
“Herobrine created the transformation wave with his evil crafting powers,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said. “The fact that the sparkling yellow particles are in both the wave and around Herobrine himself tells me that this is true. Those particles drive both of their behaviors, and if we eliminate those sickly yellow sparks, then we will stop both of these threats. And to do this, we must destroy the dragon. Herobrine is our target; the monsters are just a distraction, but we must destroy that distraction so that the Ender Dragon will commit himself to the battle. The destruction of the monster army will draw Herobrine into our trap. I should have realized this a long time ago, but my fear clouded my vision. It took a lesson from a monkey in a superman outfit to clarify it for me.”
Destruction of the Overworld Page 15
