System Overload Read online

  “No … worse,” Bookman replied. “The zombie king is bringing all the zombies from all the servers here, to this one.”

  “Why would he do …” Gameknight started, but Bookman held up a hand and stopped him.

  “Herobrine ordered Xa-Tul to crash the server. The zombie king believes it will destroy all of the NPCs on this server; it is Herobrine’s last revenge on us for standing up to him.”

  “But that won’t just crash this server, it will …” Crafter stopped talking as an expression of horror covered his boxy face.

  Bookman nodded.

  “What?” Hunter said. “What are you not saying?”

  “If Xa-Tul does this, it will destabilize everything,” Crafter said.

  “So?” Hunter replied.

  “So it could destroy the pyramid of server planes, destroying them all. He could crash the entire Minecraft universe.”

  “But the servers would restart, right?” Digger asked.

  “Maybe,” Gameknight answered. “But will all of you still be alive? When I run my own server, the villagers aren’t alive. They are just—sorry, no offense—just mindless things wandering around without a purpose or a thought or a mind. Something brought all the Minecraft creatures on the pyramid of servers to life long ago. Will that happen again, or will all of you just die and cease to exist?”

  “I’d rather not find out the answer to that question,” Hunter said, a scowl creasing her unibrow.

  “He must be stopped,” Crafter growled.

  “But how?” Stitcher asked. “Bookman said they had thousands of zombies.”

  “We’ll need more villagers, but we don’t have time to send the word out,” Gameknight said.

  “Herder took care of that,” Bookman said as he slowly climbed to his feet. “After he helped me to escape, Herder told me to warn all the villagers as I came through the minecart network. I went through at least ten villages on the way here and told them what was happening. They are sending riders out in all directions and gathering everyone they can find.” He turned and stared straight into Gameknight’s eyes. “Herder said you would know what to do with all these warriors. He was confident that you would come and save them all.”

  “That will give us a couple hundred warriors, but that’s not enough to face thousands of zombies,” Hunter pointed out.

  “Herder said one more thing that I didn’t understand, but he said you would,” Bookman continued. “He said something about Crafter’s Great Uncle Weaver and ‘follow-the-leader.’ Does that make sense to you?”

  Suddenly, the puzzle pieces began to tumble around in Gameknight’s head. “Of course … like on my server … TNT-Run,” the User-that-is-not-a-user mumbled to himself.

  “What are you talking about?” Hunter asked.

  “You’ll see,” Gameknight replied. “Are the TNT blocks ready?”

  “Sure,” Morgana answered, her scratchy voice sounding like sandpaper on rough wood. “You brought back a lot of gunpowder from the creeper hive, but I only used what was needed for all those splash potions. We’ve been making explosives with what’s left.”

  “Excellent. We’re going to need it all,” Gameknight said with a smile.

  “What do you have in mind?” Hunter inquired.

  “Something incredibly dangerous and reckless and probably idiotic,” Gameknight said. “We’re going to teach the zombies how to play TNT-Run, but unfortunately for them, they’ll be the recipients of the explosives.”

  “Perfect,” she replied, a wide grin growing across her square face. “We’ll treat the monsters to a little game of Zombie-Run.”

  Gameknight smiled at her as he nodded his head.

  “We don’t have much time, so I’ll need everyone’s help,” the User-that-is-not-a-user explained. “Here’s what I need people to do …”

  And as Gameknight explained the plan, he realized how incredible risky this plan would be. And if they failed, it would mean the destruction of everything. Icicles of fear stabbed into him, but he knew they had no choice.

  Don’t worry, Herder, Gameknight thought. I’m coming for you … we all are.

  CHAPTER 29

  THE GATHERING STORM

  The iron-clad NPCs all piled into minecarts, one after another, each person placing their tiny metal car down on the rails right behind the person in front of them. They shot through the underground tunnels like a river of unstoppable flowing metal, Gameknight at the head. His rage toward what Xa-Tul was planning was like rocket fuel, driving the NPCs’ resolve and fanning the flames of their anger.

  The sound of hundreds of wheels clattering against the metal rails filled the passageway with the sound of a million castanets. To the User-that-is-not-a-user, it was reassuring. He knew all these warriors would do whatever was necessary to stop the zombie king and find the NPC prisoners. Their confidence in him and his plan made Gameknight feel proud, yet at the same time, worried. But before he could give those echoing voices of dread any attention, his minecart burst into a brightly-lit crafting chamber.

  He stepped out and looked around. The chamber was filled with an entire community of villagers, each one armed to the teeth. Every NPC held a metal cart and was ready to add their strength to the growing army. Gameknight999 glanced at the villagers in the chamber, his heart filling with pride. They were all there, just like those behind him, because they had faith in him. He was proud and honored but also terrified—more lives to protect.

  Sighing, the User-that-is-not-a-user placed his cart on the next track and pushed off. When the cart rolled across the red-glowing powered rails, it shot forward and plunged into the next tunnel, a long snake of iron boxes following behind.

  With each crafting chamber they traversed, another fifty to seventy villagers joined the cavalcade. Gameknight could sense the excitement in the warriors. They were anxious to free their friends and stop the zombies. But as they moved closer and closer to their destination, the excitement slowly changed to apprehension and dread. After three more villages, everyone stopped talking and just focused straight ahead, staring at the armored person in front of them. They all knew what danger lay in store for them. There would be thousands of monsters eager to take every last bit of their HP. But the villagers had Gameknight999 and his crazy plan on their side.

  Just then, laughter exploded somewhere behind him, and shouts of “Zombie-Run!” percolated up the line of minecarts. Hunter must have told the new NPCs about Gameknight’s plan. The chuckles and snickers were a welcome relief to the growing tension. As they moved through more villages, the jokes and laughter grew and tension slowly turned to determination.

  Gameknight saw the end of the tunnel brightening; they were almost to the last crafting chamber. When he emerged into the brightly-lit cave, he jumped out of his cart and placed it on the new track. As he pushed off, he noticed the new additions to the army were watching him with optimistic eyes. They were all putting their lives in his hands and hoping to come out of this thing alive.

  Gameknight remembered something his mother, a person who saw the good in everything, had once told him. “Good comes in many flavors,” she had said. “Sometimes it’s the difference between spilling half your drink and spilling all your drink. Spilling half seems bad, but it’s better than losing everything. Finding the good in a thing is about perspective and how you look at the world around you. There is good in everything, if you want to find it. The hard part is wanting to find it.” These words resonated within Gameknight’s mind. He refused to focus on the fact that some of the NPCs might never return home. Instead, he thought about stopping Xa-Tul and saving the countless villagers across all the server planes. And with this thought, the fearful thoughts seemed to drift away a little.

  Finally, they reached the last crafting chamber. But this time, the chamber was empty.

  “Hello?” Gameknight yelled. “Where is everyone?”

  His voice echoed off the walls of the empty chamber. More warriors rolled into the huge cavern behind him, m
any of them putting their minecarts on the chests nearby, others just dropping them on the ground. Suddenly, Bookman was at his side, his wild gray hair sticking out from under his iron helmet.

  “They’re probably on the surface,” the old NPC explained. “I figured it was impossible to find that old abandoned mine again, so I told their crafter to find the entrance to the zombie-town. We can …”

  His words were lost as more minecarts came rattling into the chamber. Gameknight stared at Bookman, then pointed to his ears, gesturing that he couldn’t hear anything he was saying. The old villager nodded his head, then sprinted up the steps that led out of the crafting chamber, the User-that-is-not-a-user fast on his heels.

  After traversing the tunnels and climbing the long vertical ladder, Gameknight and Bookman finally made it to the watchtower. But to his surprise, they still found no one; the tower was completely deserted.

  The User-that-is-not-a-user flashed Bookman a concerned look, then peered at Crafter as he emerged from the vertical shaft. The young NPC surveyed the watchtower. When he noticed it empty, his unibrow raised in concern.

  “Let’s get outside and see where everyone is hiding,” Hunter said as she stepped into the room.

  Gameknight flashed her a glance, then stepped up to the door. Nervously, he grasped the doorknob and gave it a turn. The wooden door squeaked as it slowly swung open.

  “Let’s get moving,” Hunter snarled, and shoved Gameknight through the doorway.

  He was about to turn around and glare at her when the village square erupted in boisterous cheers. There were hundreds of NPCs clustered around the village’s well. They were clad in armor of every kind: iron, leather, diamond, and gold. Some wore mismatched pieces, while a few had no armor at all. They waved their weapons and banged their weapons against armor or stone as he approached. Gameknight was overwhelmed with the welcome and moved to tears.

  Running to the well, he jumped up on the narrow stone wall and turned to face the warriors. He held his hands up over his head to quiet the crowd as the rest of the army flowed out of the cobblestone watchtower.

  “Where is your crafter?” Gameknight asked once everyone was out of the crafting tunnel and crowded within the bulging village.

  An NPC dressed in a black smock, a gray striping running down the center, stepped forward.

  “Did you find the entrance to the zombie-town?” the User-that-is-not-a-user asked. The crafter nodded his boxy head.

  “Bookman gave us an idea about where to search. We went where he told us and found a tunnel that led deep underground in a forest biome nearby. It led to a place where a large underground lake met a river of lava. The moans of all those zombies can be heard right through the stone walls. We have warriors there right now … come.”

  Gameknight glanced at Hunter and Stitcher, who stood nearby. He was a little nervous, but their smiles buoyed his spirits. Leaping off the wall, the User-that-is-not-a-user walked to the village gates and gazed out across the lush grasslands to the forest that lay in the distance. Behind him, he could hear the clatter of armored villagers as everyone walked through the village. A handful of warriors ran forward with this village’s crafter. As the army flowed out of the village gates, Gameknight stepped aside and just watched.

  Hunter moved to his side and lightly punched him in the arm.

  “Who would have thought we’d ever see an army this big again?” she said, then lowered her voice. “I was kinda hoping this would never happen again … you know, a massive war. We had the one at the Source, and then the one on the Ocean Shore, and then that one in the Nether with Herobrine, and now this one. I’m kinda getting tired of fighting.”

  “I never thought I’d hear that coming from you,” Gameknight said.

  “You know, I don’t like to fight … I’m just really good at it,” she said with a smile, then became very serious. “Every time I’m in a battle, I think about my village and when it was wiped out by the vile ghast, Malacoda. It just makes me lose control, but I want that time to be over. I don’t want to think about what has been lost anymore. I just want to think about what great things will come next.”

  “Those are wise words,” Crafter said as he approached, Digger walking right behind.

  “Who would have ever thought wisdom would be coming from me?” Hunter said with a laugh.

  But no one else laughed.

  “None of us are surprised,” Digger said in a deep voice.

  Gameknight and Crafter nodded their heads.

  “Whatever. Let’s get going before we miss all the fun,” the redhead said as she pulled out her bow and merged into the river of armored villagers that were heading off toward the forest.

  Gameknight peered at Crafter and shrugged, then ran after her.

  The army ran across the grassy rolling hills without anyone taking a break. Armor clinked and clanked as they jogged, making a sound that reminded Gameknight of a junkyard wind chime. The noise trickled across out from the head of the column and the rear, surrounding him in sound. It was comforting to know that so many people were around him. Gameknight wished they had horses for the troops but knew they could never have collected enough in time. Regardless, the NPCs were determined to see this through, and no one complained about running across the biome.

  Quickly, they reached the forest that sat against the plains. Oaks and birches stood tall in the waning light of the afternoon. Long shadows began to creep out from the base of the majestic trees, stretching out as if to greet the approaching army. The swishing of boots cutting through long grass slowly faded away as the warriors stomped through the forest. They wove around the tree trunks like a flowing armored river.

  “Does anyone know how much farther we have to go?” Hunter asked.

  “Are we getting impatient?” Gameknight said with a smile.

  But before she could reply, they were there. The village’s crafter had stopped near the base of a small mountain. A dark opening sat at the base of the mound, its interior nothing but shadow. The whole army, maybe seven hundred strong, gathered around the entrance and stood quietly. Gameknight could tell that thoughts of what might happen were filling all their heads. Pulling a block of stone from his inventory, he jumped into the air and placed it under him. He then did it again so that he stood above all the warriors.

  “I know all of you are afraid. I am as well,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said in a loud, confident voice. “But I know if Xa-Tul is successful in bringing too many zombies here, he will crash all the server planes, and everyone—villagers, monsters, animals—everything will die. We must stop him, no matter the cost. I’m sure we will be outnumbered, but remember: zombies are dumb and cannot work together. We will also have the element of surprise on our side. Just stick to the plan and—”

  “LET’S PLAY SOME ZOMBIE-RUN!” Hunter shouted in glee.

  The rest of the villagers laughed, then cheered. A howl floated up from the forest. It was a distant wolf, and it reminded Gameknight of Herder’s animals. They had disappeared after the young NPC had been captured and no one had seen them since. But now he could hear them in the distance, their proud voices coming from all around. Gameknight paused for a moment to listen to the animals, but he could tell they were not getting any closer. The wolves were keeping their distance. Apparently, without Herder, the animals preferred to stay only with their own kind. The User-that-is-not-a-user sighed as that last image of Herder, right before he was captured, filled his mind.

  “I’m coming Herder … I’m coming,” Gameknight muttered to himself; then he drew his two swords and held them high over his head.

  “Let’s do this!” he shouted, then jumped off the blocks and followed the crafter into the tunnel.

  The army followed him through the twisting passageways. After the first turn, Gameknight noticed torches placed on the right side of the passage. Likely, they’d been put there by the villagers who had explored this tunnel long ago. The light buoyed the spirits of the soldiers, but they were still nerv
ous … Gameknight could feel it.

  Suddenly, a spider dropped down from the ceiling, falling right on top of a group of warriors. Gameknight drew his diamond sword, but two flaming arrows streaked through the air before he could even get close to the monster. The pointed shafts struck the beast in the side, causing it to burst into flame. A villager nearby struck the spider with his axe, extinguishing the flames as well as the creature’s HP.

  “We need to be careful,” Gameknight said as he patted the axeman on the back. “Watch the ceilings for spiders and check the side passages for creepers. We don’t want any explosive surprises.”

  They continued through the tunnel with eyes scanning for the shadowy movements of monsters lying in wait. Two creepers were found hiding inside alcoves, waiting for the best moment to jump out and ignite. The mottled green-and-black creatures were surprised when they saw the massive army flowing through their cave, and shocked when a dozen warriors turned on them as soon as they started to hiss. The creatures didn’t stand a chance.

  After five more minutes on the meandering path, they found themselves on the banks of a massive underground lake. Following its edge, they moved toward the orange glow at one end. As they neared, Gameknight could smell the smoke in the air, the ash biting the back of his throat with every breath. A river of lava flowed through a narrow passage and spilled into the edge of the water, creating a large, flat sheet of obsidian. The purple and black cubes seemed to glow in the orange light of the molten stone.

  Gameknight cautiously moved across the obsidian. He could feel the warmth through his diamond boots; there was likely lava directly beneath the shadowy cubes on which he walked.

  “Over here,” the villager’s crafter called, pointing to a flat wall of stone. He leaned his head against it as if listening to something.

  Gameknight moved to the NPC’s side and pressed his ear against the stone. He could hear the faint sound of zombies, their sorrowful moans just barely piercing the rocky wall.