Battle for the Nether Page 15

  He would cleanse this server of all living creatures, and then the monsters would rule. Closing his eyes, he could imagine the wave of destruction that he would bring crashing down onto Minecraft; it would be an unrelenting, merciless flood of pain and despair, and only one thing—one person—stood in his way: the User-that-is-not-a-user. Erebus had seen this so-called Gameknight in his dreams, and knew that he was no longer a threat. Something had happened to the User-that-is-not-a-user when he moved up from the last server, and now he was consumed with fear; there was no way that coward would stop him. Soon, the King of the Overworld would have this Gameknight kneel before him, and he would force the User-that-is-not-a-user to witness his triumph over all living things. And just when his hopelessness was the greatest—when he no longer had the strength to beg for his own death—then Erebus would destroy him, and his victory over the living would be complete. Reaching out with his teleportation powers, he searched for his adversary. Combing the landscape with his mind, he felt for Gameknight999, and then suddenly found him. But as in the dream, he was a terrified little kid, not the great warrior that had defeated his army on the last server. He was pathetic and weak . . . all the better.

  Smiling a terrible, fearsome smile, Erebus chuckled a murderous laugh that filled the chamber with echoes. His cackles rippled outward from the lava-filled cavern and into the very digital fabric of Minecraft.

  “I’m coming for you, User-that-is-not-a-user,” he said aloud to no one . . . to everyone.

  CHAPTER 13

  CHOOSING A PATH

  A

  strange chill settled over Gameknight999. It felt like tiny flakes of snow were being sprinkled across every inch of his skin, while at the same time he burned up from the inside; beads of perspiration formed on his arms and neck. It wasn’t just the physical feelings that concerned him, but the emotional as well. He felt as if he were in the throes of battle; his heart rate accelerated, breathing strained, and veins pumped with adrenaline. Simultaneously, however, he was petrified by a fear that felt very familiar, and he knew exactly where these feelings came from . . . a dream—no, a nightmare.

  “Gameknight, are you alright?” Crafter asked. The young boy with old, wise eyes, moved quickly to his friend’s side. “You look pale . . . and your breathing . . . you’re out of breath. What’s wrong?”

  They were in the village that sat over the crafting chamber their minecart had led them to, taking up residence in the castle-like tower that protected the cavern’s entrance. Gameknight had been gazing out the window that overlooked the village when the feeling had struck him.

  “Come, sit down,” Crafter said as he led his friend to a blocky wooden chair that sat in the corner of the room. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Gameknight just sat and stared at the cobblestone wall, trying to sort out the emotions that were flooding into him. And then he started to shake ever so slightly, fear rippling through every nerve in his body. A sound from the floor below drew Crafter’s attention away from his friend. Someone had entered the tower, and was now ascending the ladder to the top floor. The sounds of hands and feet on the wooden ladder grew louder and louder as the visitor approached. Just then, Hunter’s red hair appeared through the hole in the floor as she climbed the rest of the way up and stepped into the room. She stood there next to the ladder, confident and strong, watching the scene.

  “Gameknight, tell me what is happening,” Crafter said, concern in his voice.

  “He’s here,” Gameknight mumbled.

  “What?”

  “It’s him . . . he’s here,” he moaned.

  “Who?” Hunter asked from the doorway.

  Sensing danger, she notched an arrow in her bow and moved quickly to the window, scanning the village for threats.

  Gameknight shook violently for just an instant as the cold fingers of dread squeezed his heart, but then the terrifying sensation fading away.

  “Erebus . . . he’s here, somewhere on this server.”

  “Erebus, who’s Erebus?” Hunter asked as she put away the arrow but kept the bow in her hand, always ready.

  “He cackled that eerie enderman laugh he has,” Gameknight said, his voice still trembling a little. “I could feel him. And I could tell that he could feel me, too. He knows I’m here, on this server.” He paused to force himself to take a slow, calming breath, the strange feeling having passed, but the sensation of fear still present. “He’s coming, and he can feel my fear.”

  “Gameknight, it’s alright, it will—” Crafter began but was interrupted.

  “Fear . . . fear is a good thing,” Hunter said in a strong voice. “Fear means that you still have something that needs killing. You don’t need to be afraid of this Erebus character. One enderman is like the next, just another monster that needs killing.”

  “You don’t get it,” Gameknight snapped. “This is Erebus, self-proclaimed King of the Endermen. He leads an army of monsters that are vicious and ruthless. They will attack village after village until they destroy everything on this server. We were able to stop him on the last server, but we had help. We had famous Minecraft users to help battle the mobs. Now, we only have villagers . . . they won’t be enough to turn back the tide, not here. Besides, we can’t fight Erebus here in the Overworld, and also fight Malacoda in the Nether. We don’t know if they are working together or separate, but either way, they probably have too many monsters for us to face.”

  He stood, finally feeling better, and moved back to the window to gaze across the serene village. He could see NPCs going about their lives, blissfully ignorant of the destructive wave that was about to crash down upon them. Turning around, he looked at Crafter, hoping the young boy had some answers hidden within that aged mind.

  “We need information,” Crafter said as he stood and crossed the room to stand at Gameknight’s side. “We need to know what Malacoda is doing so that we can figure out which threat is most pressing: the King of the Nether or the King of the Endermen. We must choose a path and face one of these threats now.” He paused to look at Hunter, whose eyes were hungry for adventure, for killing, and then glanced back at Gameknight. “We must travel to the Nether.”

  “The Nether . . .” Gameknight moaned. He knew what that meant: zombie-pigmen, blazes, magma cubes, and of course, the dreaded ghasts. It was a dangerous place, a living nightmare . . . he was frightened, but then Crafter’s words flickered in his mind like a candle being lit in the darkness. “Deeds do not make the hero . . . ” There was much fear for him to overcome here, but the deed seemed great as well.

  “We either do that,” Crafter advised, “or wait for Erebus to come, and then possibly be forced to face two armies.”

  The image of two great armies filled Gameknight’s mind: a massive horde of Overworld creatures on one side and the monsters of the Nether on the other. The thought made him shudder, and he knew that Crafter was right. Looking around the room, he admired the two NPCs that stood before him; there was Crafter, with his stout friendship and ever-present wisdom and compassion, and then there was Hunter, with her overwhelming, and at times irrational, bravery. They each had something Gameknight desperately needed: confidence and courage.

  Sighing, he realized that he knew the path he needed to follow, and where it would lead.

  “OK Crafter . . . to the Nether.”

  “You two are insane,” Hunter interjected. “The Nether is filled with nothing but fire and death. There’s enough death in the Overworld, why go looking for more?”

  “Because we have to know what Malacoda’s plan is,” Crafter said. “You saw all those Nether beasts in the last village. He’s mobilizing an army and collecting crafters for some reason. We must know what’s going on.”

  “Well, you can count me out,” she snapped. “There are enough things to kill here in this world. I don’t need to go to that burning, nightmarish world to find things to shoot with my bow. You two can go without me.”

  “We could use your help,” Gameknight said sof
tly as he looked at the ground, ashamed to ask for her assistance.

  “Not gonna happen,” she replied, her brilliant red hair flying through the air as she spun around and moved to the hole in the floor. She grabbed the rungs and dropped down the ladder, sliding to the ground.

  Gameknight and Crafter watched her slide down the ladder and slam the door below as she headed out into the village.

  “I’m guessing we shouldn’t count on her for any help,” Gameknight said, a half-smile on his face.

  Crafter laughed and slapped his friend on the back. “Maybe not . . . come on, let’s get this done. We’re just going to take a peek and see what’s going on down there in the Nether. We’ll be back in no time.”

  Nodding apprehensively, Gameknight followed Crafter to the ground floor, shadowing him down the secret ladder that led to the crafting chamber.

  Once there, Gameknight’s ears were assaulted by the commotion and noise. They had convinced the village’s crafter to have the NPCs start making weapons and armor, iron swords by the hundreds and armor for the masses that would soon be called upon to stand up against the destructive tide that was about to flood this server. All across the crafting chamber, there now stood NPCs, each one making the devices of war. Piles of armor and weapons were shoved into corners and under minecart rails, chests overflowing.

  As they crafted, Gameknight could see the numerous minecarts move into the cavern with NPCs riding within, some of them with an optimistic look on their faces; whole communities answering Crafter’s call. But some of the NPCs had a look of despair on their faces. These were the Lost, villagers that had lost their crafter and were looking for a new community. Crafter had quickly become something of a legend amongst the NPCs; the homeless, village-less NPCs were flocking to this town to be adopted by Crafter and become part of a community again. When they reached the cavern floor, the new NPCs flocked to Crafter, all of them wanting to lean against their new leader. Gameknight stepped back as the NPCs surrounded his friend. As he watched, Gameknight saw Crafter glow with a soft blue light as he accepted these new NPCs into his care, their faces now filled with jubilation and pride.

  Gameknight999 smiled.

  Moving to inspect some of the swords that were being crafted, he watched as Crafter talked quietly to the village’s crafter, the young boy and old NPC both dressed alike. But the village’s crafter clearly showed respect and deference to Crafter’s years of experience and wisdom. After their quick discussion, Crafter ran up the steps and approached Gameknight.

  “The diggers will start mining for obsidian,” Crafter explained.

  Gameknight could see a group of twenty NPCs with iron pickaxes over their shoulders moving down a mine shaft, a few with swords following close behind. It was always dangerous to go down to the lava level; that was monster territory. The miners and warriors glanced over their shoulders at Gameknight, then stood up a little taller as the User-that-is-not-a-user waved to them.

  “We’ll need the obsidian to make a portal to the Nether,” Crafter said. “I’ll supervise here. You should try to get some sleep. You look terrible.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Gameknight said with a smile.

  “Besides,” Crafter continued, “I think we’ll need every ounce of strength when we travel to the Nether. Go get some rest. I’ll be up as well, after they get the portal started.”

  Gameknight nodded, realizing how tired he truly felt.

  The Nether . . . the thought of going to that terrible land of smoke and flame filled him with trepidation. But he knew he couldn’t just hide here in this village and wait for Erebus to find him. He had to do something to change the equation, or they’d all be doomed. With a sigh, he turned and headed back up the steps that led to the surface. He was going to get some rest, even though as he walked he could already feel the monsters of the Nether sharpening their claws in anticipation.

  CHAPTER 14

  NEW NIGHTMARE

  G

  ameknight999 tried to look through the silvery fog, but the swirling, damp mist was just too thick for his vision to penetrate. He could feel its moist kiss on his arms and face. It gave a cold and soggy feeling to his shirt and body that chilled him to the bone.

  Strange shapes moved in the distance, shadowy forms appearing and then disappearing as they maneuvered through the thick clouds, their bodies only fuzzy outlines—unrecognizable. An icy fear began to saturate his awareness as the apparitions moved through the fog; there was an undefined presence here, a dark, shadowy form that floated through the silvery clouds and filled him with dread. The creatures moved about him as if to tantalize his senses and tickle his imagination, his own fears filling in the blank images with frightening details. He started to shake with fear.

  “Where am I?” he asked the shadows. “What is this place?”

  His voice echoed through the cloudy vapor and came back to him from all directions, making him feel as if he were surrounded. Laughter then began to percolate through the mist, beginning as the faintest wisp of an angry giggle and building to a maniacal uproar that etched away at the last vestiges of his courage. The noise assaulted him from all sides, forcing him to put his blocky hands over his ears, but that didn’t seem to help. If anything, the movement seemed to make the sound grow louder, as if it were coming from within him rather than from the silver, terrifying fog.

  And then suddenly, the laughter stopped.

  Gameknight looked around, trying to discern why the noise had abruptly disappeared, but no matter what, he was grateful for the respite. Still, he felt in the deepest part of his soul that the silence was likely just as dangerous and terrifying as the laughter had been. The mysterious shapes within the fog had all stopped moving, and were now standing perfectly still; these ghostly statues encircled him.

  Then it started . . . a soft purring that melted away some of the icicles of fear that had been lodged in his soul. The soft, reassuring sound filled him with a warmth that spread throughout his body. He could tell that the purring was coming from his left. It was as if a massive collection of cats was out there somewhere within the fog, their contentment resonating with each breath. Their satisfaction brought a faint smile to his face. Then, the sound started to change. A whisper of a cry mixed with the soft purring, like a baby that was far away, desperately crying for his mother. The crying became louder and moved closer, but as it neared, the cries changed subtly. It no longer sounded just like a child missing his mother. No, the crying sounded angry and spiteful, as if the child had been punished for some terrible wrong and now sought revenge. The cries accentuated the feelings of anger and malice.

  A shape started to form within the fog; it was clearly the source of the yowling wails. It was a large, square shape, with dangling things hanging underneath its massive body. Gameknight999 felt that he should recognize this shape, but knew that he was in the dream world again, and things like memory and reason didn’t always work here. One thing he did know was that he was afraid of this thing, the fear growing to terror as the monstrosity approached.

  And then the gigantic creature pushed through the fog. A huge, square, childlike face emerged through the haze and stared down at him, angry tears staining the skin under the terrifying eyes; it was Malacoda.

  “Welcome to the Land of Dreams, User-that-is-not-a-user,” he boomed, his deep voice reverberating with echoes. “I have been waiting for you for some time now.”

  “What is this place?” Gameknight asked, looking up into the terrible face of the beast. “This isn’t real . . . you aren’t real. This is just a dream.”

  Malacoda’s face brightened as a sinister smile spread across his face, then he burst into an evil, thunderous laugh. The sound was instantly joined by the laughter of the other forms within the mist, some of them now glowing as if aflame.

  “Users are so ignorant of things within Minecraft,” Malacoda boomed. He flicked one of his tentacles to silence his cohorts. Their laughter instantly died away, leaving only a mechanical wheezing sound.
“Things in the Land of Dreams are as real as the dreamer makes them. Haven’t you figured that out yet, User-that-is-not-a-user?”

  “I . . . ah . . .”

  Reaching out with lightning speed, Malacoda shot a tentacle toward Gameknight, and wrapped the clammy appendage around his body, pinning his arms to his side. With excruciating slowness, he drew Gameknight toward his huge bone-white face, lifting the User-that-is-not-a-user off the ground and raising him so that they were eye to eye. Gameknight struggled against the thick tentacle, but it was like cold iron: unyielding and solid.

  “I have brought you here to give you a chance to escape your death,” the King of the Nether explained. “You see, you cannot stop me. I will take my army to the Source and destroy all of these Minecraft worlds, whether you try to resist me or not. You and that little toy of a crafter are nothing compared to me. My forces will sweep this world clean, then do the same to the Source, and there is nothing you can do about it. Your only hope is to run and hide. Enjoy the last few days of your life. Your death is inevitable.”

  Fear sizzled through Gameknight999 as those words burned into his soul. He imagined his sister standing at the top of their basement stairs, screaming as the monsters slowly flowed up and out, all because of him. He could almost see her in the fog, her silent terrified screams stabbing at him, at his fear. As these thoughts played through his mind, Malacoda smiled an evil, knowing smile, as if he could see what Gameknight was thinking.

  “A sister,” the ghast boomed. “You have a sister . . . most interesting. I can’t wait to meet her. Ha ha ha.”

  Malacoda filled the air with his booming laugh. “Let me show you how it will be with your sister and the rest of your family.”