The Adorian Village, which had just this morning stood proud and strong in the midst of the Great Wood, had been totally razed. Not one single building was still standing. The site where the wooden motel had been was now as featureless as if players had never been there before. The tiny wooden hut where Oob and his family were staying was nowhere to be seen. The brick Town Hall had been torn to shreds, and despite that it was the most complete remaining building in the village. Only two brick-block wall segments, connected at a right angle, remained upright.
There was not a single player in sight.
Stan barely had time to take in what he was seeing when, in a blink of teleportation, he suddenly found himself in the midst of it. The psychic grip released him, and he fell to the ground on top of one of the only sections of gravel road that had not been torn apart by the lightning. Stan raised his head, and though his body was shaking, he managed to look around.
The village was far worse from this level. The ground had been torn into an uneven, cratered landscape, not unlike the war-torn trench outside Element City. The fires seemed far more numerous, and the smoke and heat spiraling around him threatened to choke Stan, but not nearly as much as the items. Now that he was at ground level, he could see the dropped inventories of countless fallen players, scattered across the barren landscape.
As Stan’s mind attempted to make sense of all that was around him, he felt as though his brain was full of fuzz, and not able to totally process what he was seeing. Stan realized that somebody was watching him. Slowly, he turned his head to look directly ahead of him, where Lord Tenebris stood at the other end of the patch of gravel. He was looking down at Stan, totally emotionless. Stan stared back. He felt nothing toward Lord Tenebris. No anger, no hatred, not even fear. Stan’s mind was too overwhelmed to feel anything, and so he just stared blankly up at Lord Tenebris, like a child processing the world around himself for the first time.
“You knew that this would happen, Stan,” Lord Tenebris said in a deadpan. “Perhaps you tried to convince yourself otherwise, perhaps you lied to yourself and believed that you somehow had the upper hand in this war, but you never did. In fact, even calling this a war is giving you far too much credit. After all, in a war, there must be at least two sides.”
Stan said nothing.
“Why, Stan? If your fight was so futile, then why did you bother to put up one at all? Did you really think that you could overthrow the Noctem Alliance through tactful and honest methods, the same way you did to King Kev and his kingdom? I refuse to believe that you didn’t know who I was before you challenged me today, Stan. And the moment you found that out, you should have given up the fight, right then and there. You must have known that, regardless of what you did against the Alliance I command, you could never beat me.”
Stan remained silent.
“And now look at you. Your pitiful resistance has been crushed, your troops have been captured, and your leaders are being lined up for the firing squad as we speak, awaiting my command to finish the job. You have no backup, you have no contingency plan, and your best friend is dead. You’re pathetic and weak, totally at my mercy. If I wanted to kill you now, I could do it without raising a finger. But . . . I won’t.”
Stan, who had been staring up vacantly at Lord Tenebris, now looked down to the gravel below him, failing to imagine what Lord Tenebris could possibly do to bring him lower.
Lord Tenebris took no notice of Stan’s movement. Instead, he focused intently on both his hands. In his right hand appeared a golden apple, shimmering with a brilliant luster, brighter in the darkness than any golden apple that had ever been seen in Elementia. In the other hand, a glass bottle appeared, filled to the brim with bloodred potion.
“I will say this, Stan. As pathetic as you are, I still find that I have a great deal of respect for you. Your ideals may be selfish and misguided, and your arrogance and pride may well be admired by your followers. However, I cannot deny that your devotion to your people is admirable, and that, while it may have been pointless in the long run, you did manage to evade my grasp for far longer than I had anticipated. Therefore, out of respect for you as an adversary, I only see fit to give you one final choice.”
Lord Tenebris reached down and placed the golden apple and the potion side by side on the block in front of Stan. He looked up from the ground, and stared at the two items.
“These two items are very special, Stan,” Lord Tenebris explained. “The apple is not just any golden apple. This is an enchanted golden apple. It is the best healing item in all of Minecraft. If you eat it, you will find yourself totally reinvigorated, and more ready to fight than you have ever been in your life. The potion, on the other hand, is one that you should recognize—the Potion of Harming. This particular potion is from my personal collection. It is brewed to Level Three, which is much more potent than any potion regularly available. It is strong enough to kill you the moment it touches your lips.”
Stan felt as though a black hole were opening in his chest as he realized where Lord Tenebris was going with this.
“Here is your choice, Stan. You may choose to eat the golden apple, and return to Element City to challenge me. There, we will have an honorable duel to the death in front of all our people, and the winner shall be crowned the new ruler of Elementia.
“Alternatively, you may choose to drink the Potion of Harming and save yourself the humiliation. It will be quick, painless, and instantaneous.”
Lord Tenebris was quiet for a moment to let his offer sink in. Stan continued to stare at the two items, still with almost no comprehension, for a full minute before Lord Tenebris spoke again.
“You have until sunrise to make your choice. I will be waiting back at Element City for you to challenge me. If you choose the second option, I will know. If you adhere to my deadline, then regardless of your decision, none of your people will be punished for their actions under your command, with the exception of your leaders and closest friends. I would tell you not to run away, but I know that you aren’t going to.”
And with that, Lord Tenebris turned his back on Stan, walking slowly into the cloud of smoke that was descending over the blazing ruins of the city until he had totally faded from view.
For the longest time, Stan remained still. Within the past ten minutes, so much had happened. Stan needed ample time to process it all. It was only after the last bit of information had been realized that the depression came crashing over him.
Stan had failed himself, and he had failed his people. He should have known that Lord Tenebris would be far too powerful for him and his friends to handle. And that fiend was right about him—how could he have possibly expected an army of anything less than the most talented, skillful, and experienced players to take down a force of four hundred Noctem fighters? They should have trained longer, and with that thought, Stan remembered with a horrible jolt what Sally had said. If they had waited just a little bit longer . . . Stan might have had operating powers, and all this could have been avoided. . . .
Stan realized, though, that this thought was moronic. Even if he had somehow managed to get operating powers, there was no way that he ever could have taken down Lord Tenebris. Summoning gale-force winds on a whim, sending down a storm of thousands of lightning strikes—these were things that he had never seen before, far greater than anything a normal operator could achieve. Whatever Lord Tenebris had done to himself, Stan knew that he was far beyond anything that he could ever . . .
Suddenly, something else that Sally had said struck Stan like a rock thrown at his head. Stan teetered over and fell to the ground, his heart stopping dead as he remembered. Lord Tenebris was siphoning energy from the server itself. He was drawing in more and more power from Elementia to make himself stronger. Eventually, the lack of power would corrupt Elementia, creating a game-breaking glitch that would throw the server into chaos. And that glitch could travel across the internet as a virus, infecting countless other servers until multiplayer Minecraft ceased to exi
st.
That meant that . . . by failing to defeat Lord Tenebris . . . Stan had condemned all of Minecraft to be destroyed. This game, which had meant so much to him, his friends, and so many others across the world, this game that had enabled people to play in their own world, to do what they wanted, and to have the freedom to build, explore, and fight at the pace they wanted—it was all going to be gone.
Stan glanced down at the two items on the ground in front of him. The golden apple was truly a thing of beauty, shimmering in marvelous hues of gold even in the darkness of the smoldering city. The Potion of Harming looked innocuous, sitting on the gravel with its deep red contents, but Stan knew better.
Stan wondered if there was any point in returning to Element City and challenging Lord Tenebris. What would it accomplish? He would show up, and Lord Tenebris would wipe the floor with him, putting him through excruciating pain and humiliation before finally ending his life. In terms of his people, it didn’t matter. Stan believed that Lord Tenebris would allow most of his people to live on, but Stan could do nothing to stop the execution of his friends. If he went back, his friends’ last memories in Elementia would be of their leader being mutilated and destroyed. What’s more, Stan found that he hardly even cared that he and his friends were on the verge of death. He was already too dead inside to feel anything.
Stan reached down to the ground and clasped the bottle of bloodred potion. Slowly, he raised the potion bottle and looked at it intently. In his reflection, slightly warped in the reddened globe of glass, Stan saw a player who looked damaged, pathetic, and utterly defeated. A sigh of apathy escaped his mouth. There was no hope anymore.
Stan put the glass of the bottle to his mouth, and slowly began to tilt it backward.
“Arf!”
Right as the potion was about to enter his mouth, the noise startled Stan. He looked around wildly, trying to see what made the noise, and when he looked behind him, he saw it. There, standing in the middle of the torn-up road, panting slightly with his blocky tongue hanging out of his mouth, sat a wolf. Miraculously, despite being in the center of the razed city, this wolf was totally unharmed, and hadn’t even gotten dirty.
“Hey, Rex,” Stan breathed.
At the sound of his name, Rex’s tail began to wag, and he bounded over to Stan, leaping up on his hind legs and beginning to lick Stan’s face. Somewhere within his deadened soul, Stan felt a slight warmth begin to ignite within him as he returned Rex’s affection, scratching him behind the ears and beneath the collar as the wolf tapped his foot in pleasure. For a while, Stan just sat there, playing with the wolf, and he began to feel a little bit of joy.
“How did you manage to survive, boy?” Stan asked, still baffled.
Rex lowered himself down onto all fours again, and he tilted his head to the side in confusion. Stan wondered just how much the wolf could understand. He had never owned a dog himself, and he had never talked to Kat about . . .
At that moment, for the first time since Lord Tenebris had blasted him out of the council room, the realization of what had happened washed over Stan yet again, threatening to crush him like a steamroller. Stan had endured so much since the battle had begun, so much had been destroyed and so much lost, that he had barely had time to comprehend any of it fully. But now, in the midst of the ruined Adorian Village, for the first time, the realization truly hit Stan that one of his best friends was gone from Elementia forever.
“You’re looking for Kat, aren’t you,” Stan said quietly, as tears started to well in his eyes.
At the sound of his master’s name, Rex’s ears perked up, and his eyes widened with joy. The wolf looked around, as if expecting to see Kat appear at any moment. Stan struggled to choke back sobs as the wolf began to pace the ground around Stan, sniffing everywhere, and looking so hopeful. When nothing was found, Rex looked inquisitively up at Stan, his head curiously cocked to one side.
“Well, you can forget about it,” Stan managed to get out. “Kat’s dead.”
Rex was silent and immobile for a moment. Then, he tilted his head to the other side and let out an inquiring yip, as if he didn’t understand what Stan was trying to tell him.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Stan moaned, his voice shaky and uneven. “Kat is dead, Rex. She’s not coming back for you.”
Rex looked extremely confused, staring at Stan intently, as if trying to read him. The wolf realized that Stan was on the verge of breaking down in tears, and he began to mirror Stan, his eyes widening in sorrow as he began to let out soft whimpers. Suddenly, without warning, Stan felt an intense surge of anger at Rex for being so empty-minded, so uncomprehending.
“Don’t you get it, you stupid animal!” Stan bellowed, his face contorted with agony and tears gushing down his face like rapids now. “Your master is dead! She’s never coming back for you! You will never . . . see . . . her . . . ever . . .”
And with that, Stan broke down. He let out a wailing cry of “aga-aain!” as he burst out into unapologetic sobs, collapsing onto the ground and burying his face into Rex’s neck. He hugged the wolf tightly around the neck, desperate for anybody to share in his grief and heartache. Stan felt as though a giant piece of himself was being torn out and digested in acid. Rex sat tall and strong, letting out his own whimpers of grief, but not moving in the slightest as he let Stan, one of the first players that he had ever trusted, cry into him as Stan’s body shook with spasms of unquenchable pain.
For the longest time, the player and the wolf sat in the middle of the bombed-out graveyard that was the Adorian Village. Stan’s sadness showed no signs of slowing as he remembered everything that he and Kat had been through together—their first meeting in the woods, their training with Sally and her friends, their quest to take down King Kev, their time on the council, rebuilding Elementia, their war against the Noctem Alliance, their journey to return home to their city, and the last stand, which felt as though it had happened a thousand lifetimes ago.
Suddenly, time stopped. Everything around Stan ground to a halt. His world seemed to pause, as he was hit by a massive realization. He remembered when he had stared into the eyes of Lord Tenebris . . . those empty, white eyes, which pained him to even look at. He had had a feeling that he had seen those eyes somewhere before, although, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember where . . .
Not anymore. Stan remembered who the eyes belonged to.
He remembered what seemed like an eternity ago. Adrenaline coursing through his veins and with his entire world on the line, Stan had pitched an Ender Pearl up the wall of Element Castle, and landed on the bridge. He had turned to look at his adversary, and there stood King Kev, leering at him, his sword drawn and pointed at Stan in a clear challenge. Stan had only had a split second to look into his eyes—eyes, of course, that were unique, different from all other players in Minecraft—before the fight had commenced.
Earlier that night, as Stan had challenged Lord Tenebris, he had been forced to look away. The eyes of Lord Tenebris possessed some sort of demonic power, radiating from deep within them, and making it impossible to hold contact with them. And yet, through all the evil and all the power, Stan had recognized something in those eyes—the same indescribable, unique quality that he had seen in the brief seconds before he had charged King Kev, intent on wiping the dictator off the face of the server. Stan felt as though everything that he knew to be true in the world now hung in the balance as he realized what this meant.
Lord Tenebris . . . and King Kev . . . could they possibly be . . .
Questions erupted in Stan’s head like fireworks, as he thought of all the reasons that this couldn’t possibly be true. And . . . yet . . . he was so sure. Despite everything that Stan knew to be true that contradicted it, he knew what he had seen. The eyes were the only true way to tell one Minecraft player apart from another, for although skins could be changed, eyes stayed the same regardless of what a player looked like, even remaining the same across different accounts. But . . . how? Even as Stan’s min
d kicked into overdrive at the thought that Lord Tenebris and King Kev could possibly be one and the same, he knew that this couldn’t be possible. King Kev was dead. Stan had fought him, and he had watched the king die. Furthermore, King Kev had given up his operating powers long before Stan joined the server. If he had them, he surely would have used them when Stan and the Apothecary had threatened his life. And even if, by some crazy stretch of the imagination, King Kev had returned to Elementia with his operating powers intact, Lord Tenebris—or rather, Herobrine—clearly was not a player. He had demonstrated skills and abilities far more than an operator was capable of. Last but not least, there was no way that he possibly could have hacked his way back in because of the Modelock Mod. If what Sally had told him about the mod was true, there was no way that King Kev could have tampered with the code of his own server. Clearly, only Herobrine, a glitch, would be able to bypass the code of Elementia and attain such unbelievable power.
Stan tried to convince himself that it couldn’t be true. He had no idea what Herobrine was capable of. It was more than possible that he had somehow changed his own eyes to mirror King Kev’s just for the sake of unnerving Stan. Or maybe what Stan recognized in both of them was their equally sinister nature. Or maybe . . .
Stan was snapped out of his thoughts by the faint crunching of four-legged footsteps on gravel, growing softer and softer. Stan looked up and saw Rex dashing across the uneven street.
“Hey!” Stan called out. “Rex! Where are you going?”
At the sound of Stan’s voice, the wolf stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned his head to the side and looked up at Stan, his eyes showing an almost humanlike level of importance and determination. Rex raised his front right leg, still looking at Stan, and gave two upward swipes, a clear gesture for Stan to follow him, before turning back around and continuing on.
Stan was floored. His head felt like it was about to explode as he tried to process everything. So many different thoughts, feelings, and emotions were welling in Stan that he felt as if he were about to blow a gasket and pass out in the street. Then, all of a sudden, he decided to stop. Everything that was running through Stan’s head stopped. He took a deep breath and stored the thoughts in the back of his mind for later. He stood up from the ground and pocketed the Potion of Harming and the enchanted golden apple. His mind was clear, and he began to follow Rex.
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