System Overload

by Mark Cheverton

  “Everyone seems scared,” Crafter said.

  “It’s the uncertainty,” Gameknight said. “An enemy you can’t see is much scarier than the one standing right in front of you.”

  “Maybe the User-that-is-not-a-user should say something,” Crafter suggested. “You know, calm their fears.”

  “That’s fine for them, but what about my fears?” Gameknight replied with a smile.

  He pushed through the crowd, then pulled a block of dirt out of his inventory. Jumping into the air, he placed the block under his feet so that he then stood above everyone in the cavern. Drawing his diamond sword from his inventory, Gameknight banged it against his chest plate. The diamond armor rang like a gong, filling the crafting chamber with sound. This brought all eyes up to Gameknight. But just as he was about to speak, a minecart shot into the room.

  “Someone help!” a voice shouted.

  The User-that-is-not-a-user turned and saw an old man struggling to step out of the cart and stand. Two NPCs moved to his side and helped him, each holding an arm as they guided him away from the rails and toward the center of the chamber. Gameknight jumped down and made room for the old man to sit.

  “What’s wrong?” the User-that-is-not-a-user asked. “Are you OK?”

  “I don’t know … they’re gone, they’re all gone,” the old NPC said.

  Gameknight flashed a look of concern toward Crafter.

  “First, tell us your name,” Crafter said.

  “My name is Tanner,” the ancient villager said, “and I fear something terrible has happened to my village.”

  “Let me guess: they’re all missing?” Gameknight999 asked.

  Tanner’s square eyes grew wide with shock.

  “How did you know?” the old NPC asked.

  “Just a lucky guess,” the User-that-is-not-a-user replied as feelings of dread filled his soul.

  Tanner stared at him, then noticed the letters glowing over his head. Instantly, he tucked his arms into his sleeves, hiding his hands. But as his eyes slowly drifted upward, the ancient villager saw the lack of a server thread.

  “It’s you,” he said, his voice but a whisper.

  Gameknight nodded his square head.

  Tanner reached out and took one of Gameknight’s hands in his own.

  “I came here searching for you,” Tanner said. “I didn’t know where else to go.” He began to sob. “My wife, Milker, and my kids and grandkids … all gone,” the old NPC moaned. “How can this be?”

  “It will be OK, Tanner,” Stitcher reassured. “The User-that-is-not-a-user will figure this out. He’ll find them, I promise.”

  Gameknight winced as he felt the sharp needle of responsibility stabbing at him from within.

  The old man glanced at the young girl with tears in his eyes and tried to give her a smile, but all he did was cry a little harder. Stitcher looked up at Gameknight, tiny cubes of moisture forming in her eyes.

  “We have to do something,” she said.

  You don’t think I know that? Gameknight thought. But what?

  He nodded his head, then turned away and searched for Crafter. He found the NPC talking with Hunter and Digger. When he saw Gameknight looking in his direction, Crafter joined him.

  “Two villages now?” Gameknight said, more of a statement than a question.

  “An unlikely coincidence,” Crafter added.

  By now, the other members of their village had gathered and were all listening to the discussion. Gameknight could feel anger growing amongst the NPCs. With all the conflicts that had blanketed the Minecraft servers over time, the villagers had learned to watch out for each other; any NPC was now welcome in any village. They saw themselves as one giant family, and anything that hurt one village hurt them all.

  “We have to go there and see what happened,” Digger said. “There must be some clues.”

  “Digger’s right,” Hunter added. “We need to investigate.”

  “Very well,” Gameknight said. “Let’s gather some supplies and meet in the crafting chamber. Where’s Herder?”

  “Here!” shouted the lanky boy from the back of the crowd.

  “Good,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said. “I want you and your wolves with us on this. Maybe they can smell something that we cannot see.”

  He turned from Herder and scanned the crowd of villagers.

  “I’m requesting the help of twenty warriors, just in case we run into trouble. We’ll need volunteers. Those who are willing to go, meet us in the crafting chamber after you gather your weapons and armor. Let’s do it.”

  Turning, he glanced at Crafter and gave the young NPC a smile, but there was worry in those ancient blue eyes…. Gameknight999 felt the same.

  CHAPTER 6

  THE PRISONER

  Gameknight helped Tanner up the steps and through the tunnels. Slowly, they climbed the ladder to the surface of the village. They paused in the watchtower for just a moment, giving the NPC elder a chance to catch his breath. When he was ready, Gameknight led him to the village’s well, where he gave the old man some water and food.

  As he ate, Tanner glanced about the village, admiring their defenses. “Maybe if we had walls and gates like your village has, then my friends and family would still be safe,” he said.

  “Maybe,” Gameknight replied. “But I’ve learned that walls are never a guarantee. It’s people who keep people safe.”

  When the old NPC had finished eating, Gameknight took him to the village armory. Iron armor being too heavy for his aged frame, they fitted the old man with a set of leather armor, the tunic and pants colored red.

  “Nice dye job,” Tanner said to the village’s armorer, “but next time you should try this.”

  He pulled out an ink sack from his inventory and carefully used it to decorate the edges and seams. When Tanner was finished, the plain red tunic now had black piping along the sleeves and sides. It was like something a hero would wear … it looked fantastic.

  “Never underestimate the value of fancy armor, young man,” Tanner said to Gameknight999. “Your opponent might take you for some kind of elite warrior because of it. It might just give you the smallest advantage.”

  “That’s a good point,” Gameknight replied. “I think we should get back to the crafting chamber. The volunteers will just about be ready by now.”

  Tanner nodded as he stood and adjusted the leather armor on his frail body. They headed slowly for the watchtower.

  Gameknight went down the ladder first, in case Tanner fell. They slid down the rungs quickly; going down was much easier on the ancient villager than going up. Moving as quickly as possible, Gameknight guided Tanner through the tunnels and to the doors that led to the crafting chamber. He was surprised by the lack of noise they encountered. He had expected to find more villagers heading to the crafting chamber, but the passages seemed empty … it was strange.

  He stood in the round chamber, waiting for more villagers to arrive, but it remained empty, save for Gameknight999 and Tanner. Now he was getting worried.

  With a sigh, the User-that-is-not-a-user moved to the dual iron doors. He banged on the metal with the hilt of his sword, causing a loud Gong! to resonate like a church bell as the sound echoed off the polished stone walls.

  Slowly, the iron doors creaked open. Crafter stood in front of them, a smile on his face.

  “Where is everyone?” Gameknight asked. “We can’t go to this village alone.”

  “Just come in,” Crafter said.

  “But there might be monsters still at this village. We need to have—”

  “Just come in!” Crafter snapped.

  Gameknight stepped through the door and was surprised at what he saw. Everyone from the village was assembled in the crafting chamber, all of them in full armor and heavily armed. He was stunned. Every person in the village was willing to go with him to find out what had happened to the missing villagers. He was overwhelmed.

  “I don’t think you will be alone on this little adventu
re!” Hunter shouted from the floor of the chamber, a mischievous smile on her face.

  Gameknight turned and stared at Tanner. For the first time, an expression of hope twinkled in the ancient villager’s eyes.

  “Let’s do this!” the User-that-is-not-a-user said.

  They ran down the stairs, each grabbing a minecart. Tanner led the way, placing his cart on the tracks and disappearing into the darkness, Gameknight999 right on his heels.

  As they rolled down the tracks, the User-that-is-not-a-user could hear all the countless wheels clattering on the rails behind him. It was reassuring, knowing that everyone was willing to take this risk with him, but was he putting them in danger by taking them with him?

  Why is it that violence seems to follow me everywhere in Minecraft? Gameknight thought. I must keep them safe, but what if I can’t? What if there are too many monsters? What if …

  Every terrible thing that could happen appeared in his head, chipping away at his courage. He knew he shouldn’t focus on the what-ifs, and should focus on the now instead. But Gameknight was so worried some of his friends might get hurt that he gave in to his imagination, and the thought of all the negative things that could happen made him afraid.

  After traversing five different crafting chambers, they finally came to Tanner’s village. As with Cobbler’s, the crafting chamber was completely empty. There wasn’t any sign that anyone had ever been here in the past. It was completely deserted.

  “To the surface,” Digger said as he ran up the stairs.

  The army followed the big NPC like a shining metal snake. They moved, single file, through the tunnels and up the secret ladder until they filled the watchtower.

  “Ready?” Digger said as he pulled out his second pickaxe. “GO!”

  They burst out of the cobblestone structure and into the village. Archers appeared at the top of the watchtower, while others ran to the top of the fortified wall that separated the village from the savannah.

  Gameknight left Tanner and took the ladder to the top of the watchtower. When he reached its peak, he scanned the village. Not a monster in sight … nor a villager, other than those that had come with him. But this time, the village was not completely empty. Items were strewn about haphazardly; scattered tools and weapons floated just off the ground.

  Sliding down the ladder, the User-that-is-not-a-user walked out of the cobblestone structure and headed for the village well. He found Tanner there, sitting on the ground, weeping. Stitcher was next to him, an arm around his shoulders.

  “Where are my friends and family?” Tanner demanded. “What happened? Are they all dead?”

  “I don’t know,” Gameknight said as he peered down at the man with compassion in his eyes.

  Crafter suddenly appeared at his side, Cobbler close behind. The young shoemaker had taken to following the older NPC everywhere he went.

  “This time, the village was not scrubbed clean,” Crafter pointed out.

  Gameknight grunted.

  “It looks like there was a battle here, and the villagers were killed,” Digger said as he approached from behind. “There are items everywhere … weapons and armor all over the place.” He stared down at Tanner and softened his voice. “I’m so sorry, Tanner. It appears as if your village was attacked and …” He didn’t finish the statement.

  “They’re all gone?” Tanner asked.

  Digger nodded.

  “No!” Gameknight snapped.

  “What?” Digger asked.

  “Look around,” the User-that-is-not-a-user explained. “There are weapons and armor every-where.”

  “Yeah … so?”

  “But no tools … and no food,” Stitcher added.

  “Exactly,” Gameknight said. “Either someone wanted this to look like a massacre to us, or they were supposed to pick all this up and—”

  “Everyone, come quick!” a voice interrupted.

  Gameknight turned and dashed toward the sound. As he ran, he saw Hunter standing by the wall of the village, her bow and arrow aimed at someone in the shadows. Drawing his diamond sword, the User-that-is-not-a-user approached cautiously.

  “Look what I found,” Hunter said with a smile.

  Gameknight stepped forward to find a zombie tucked away in a shadowy corner, a leather cap on his bald, scarred head.

  “This zombie was collecting armor and weapons,” Hunter explained. “I cornered him.”

  An arrow stuck out of the monster’s shoulder; another poked out from his side. A third arrow would easily take the rest of the monster’s HP.

  “What are you doing here? What happened to these villagers?” Gameknight asked as he moved closer to the zombie, his diamond sword ready.

  The zombie growled, then grinned, showing his pointed teeth.

  “We know the villagers here were not killed,” the User-that-is-not-a-user continued. “You’re going to tell us where they were taken, if you wish to live.”

  The zombie peered at the letters over Gameknight’s head, then glanced up into the empty sky. He then glared about at the warriors that were slowly approaching and laughed.

  “This zombie is not scared,” the monster growled. “But rather than tell the pathetic villagers where their friends are, it will be shown instead. Come … follow, if the NPCs possess any courage.”

  The zombie stepped forward. In the blink of an eye, Digger wrapped a rope around the monster, pinning his arms to his sides. The monster struggled in vain, then, realizing the ropes would not give, stopped testing his bonds and stood facing Gameknight999. Hunter then stepped forward and pulled the two arrows out of the monster’s flesh, wiping them on the ground before shoving them back into her inventory.

  “You’re still one arrow away from meeting your ancestors, zombie,” Hunter warned. “Do as you are told, or you might not live through this adventure.”

  The zombie growled at her, then shifted his hateful gaze back to the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  “Follow,” the zombie said, then walked toward the open village gates, Digger holding the end of the rope firmly in his hand.

  Gameknight looked at Crafter, a confused expression on his face.

  “What do you want to do?” Crafter asked.

  “We follow,” Gameknight replied. “I want to know what’s going on here…. I have to know. And I refuse to just give up on any villager. We’re getting our people back.”

  Following the zombie, the army moved out across the savannah. Herder had his wolves form a protective ring around the NPCs, with archers and swordsmen placed strategically so they could defend themselves if attacked. But as they marched across the landscape, following the zombie prisoner, Gameknight’s imagination created every deadly scenario that could befall them. He envisioned massive attacks from zombies and spiders—the images played over and over in his head. And the more he thought about the terrible possibilities, the more vivid they appeared in his mind … and the more scared he became.

  CHAPTER 7

  FEYD

  The king of the endermen paced across the pale landscape of the End, his dark red body standing out against the sea of pallid End stone. Tall obsidian pillars stretched high into the starless sky, dotting the landscape with their dark forms. Each was capped with a small fire that forever burned. Within the wreath of flames, Feyd could see an ender crystal bobbing about, as if the pink cube were unaware of the existence of gravity.

  Glancing across the floating island that was their home, and prison, Feyd could see a group of dark endermen clustered together, apparently in heated discussion. Feyd gathered his teleportation powers, allowing a mist of purple particles to form around him. The strange tickling sensation formed in the back of his head, creating the impression that he was in two places at the same time.

  And then, at the speed of thought, he was there.

  “What is being discussed?” the king of the endermen said in a high-pitched, screechy voice.

  “Rabban here says there is something wrong with the End,” one of the
endermen said.

  Feyd shifted his gaze to the monster and gave him a questioning stare.

  “Well?” Feyd asked. “What is wrong with the End?”

  “I don’t think it’s the End,” Rabban explained. “It’s the teleportation particles.”

  This captured the endermen king’s attention. The teleportation particles were vital to their survival. When an enderman teleported across the End, the sparkling teleportation particles rejuvenated their health and increased their HP. It was how they fed, for endermen did not eat plants or flesh like those foolish NPCs in the Overworld. Without the purple teleportation particles, the endermen would eventually starve and die.

  “Harkonnen here called me a liar,” Rabban continued. “He said I should not bother you, but this is too important for petty arguments. It could be critical.”

  The accused enderman took a step back from Rabban and his king, his black head cast to the ground. Feyd glared at the retreating monster, then shifted his gaze back to Rabban.

  “Show me,” the king of the endermen commanded.

  “That’s what I said,” protested Harkonnen.

  Feyd glanced at the monster, his eyes beginning to glow white with anger. Harkonnen took another step back and cast his eyes to the ground.

  “Coward,” Feyd mumbled.

  He stepped up to Rabban and looked down on him.

  “Show me!” he commanded.

  “I can’t,” the subordinate explained. “It’s something you cannot see, but can only feel.”

  “I just teleported and didn’t feel anything,” Feyd said.

  “That’s because you only needed a small amount of HP, and it wasn’t noticeable,” Rabban explained. “If you needed more HP, you could feel it.”

  “Very well,” the king of the endermen replied. “Hit me.”

  “What?” Rabban asked as he took a step away from his ruler.

  “I said, hit me!”

  “But … Sire… I could not … ahh … I mean …”

  Rabban continued to move away from his king, walking blindly backward from Feyd. The king of the endermen calmly followed until the cowering monster had backed himself into an obsidian pillar.