Destruction of the Overworld

by Mark Cheverton

  Some of the zombies growled in anger. Their punishment after that failed invasion was a sore spot for all monsters. The NPCs had severely punished the monsters of the night by banishing them from the clear blue sky and forcing them to stay forever shackled to their prisons. Looking about, Herobrine could see the anger simmering within the creatures, making them grow more violent.

  Good, he thought.

  “You cannot be held responsible for being afraid. The monsters of the Overworld were imprisoned to the darkness long ago, long before you were created.” Herobrine extended his long neck, raising his massive head high off the ground so he could stare down upon his warriors. “It is understandable that a frightened animal will become accustomed to his cage, maybe even miss it. This does not make you a coward.”

  Angry moans filled the air as the zombies grew more enraged, not at Herobrine, but at the victors of that ancient conflict; their captors and wardens. Looking across the faces of his troops, Herobrine could see many of the endermen were beginning to show jagged teeth, their mouths open and their eyes glowing bright with fury.

  “So you have two choices: stay in your cages,” Herobrine continued, “or follow me and break the chains of your oppressors. However, if you run back to the safety of your prisons, you must stay there, for I will not have cowards in my army. Run away now and never return, or stay at my side and fight the injustice that was levied upon you long ago. What is your decision?”

  Zombies growled louder, the simmering emotions now boiling over. The zombies, moving as one, stepped forward and bowed to their Maker. The endermen then bowed deep as their eyes blazed with anger. Herobrine stared at Feyd, his general. The king of the endermen still appeared to be undecided. He was about to comment on Feyd’s obvious contemplation when a strange sensation started to well up within the dragon. He felt as though a fire were growing within his stomach, a burning sensation that somehow felt controllable and . . . good. Drawing the bile into his mouth, the dragon spat the vile poison to the ground. Where it struck, the grassy block slowly faded from a healthy green to something pale and mottled. The color faded to an insipid yellow, and the block displayed a pattern that looked similar to cobblestone.

  Feyd looked down at the block, then back up at the dragon. Herobrine could see recognition come across the monster’s dark face. Instantly, the enderman teleported to the faded block, though it was only three steps away. When he materialized, Feyd looked up at Herobrine and smiled, looking rejuvenated.

  “I understand your plan now, Maker.” Feyd said as he smiled an evil grin. “The monsters of the Overworld are your obedient servants. We will follow you anywhere.”

  “Excellent,” growled Herobrine. “Let us find our next victims and punish them.”

  With a nod of his head, Feyd silently commanded his endermen to find the next village. And as the dark creatures teleported away on the wings of tiny purple particles, Herobrine laughed an evil malicious laugh.

  “I have a little surprise for you, User-that-is-not-a-user,” the dragon roared.

  Feyd looked up at the Maker and cackled, his eyes glowing bright.

  Leaping up into the air, Herobrine beat his large leathery wings and climbed high, soaring above his army of monsters. Looking across the landscape, he instantly identified that they were in a pine forest, and an extreme hills biome sat on the other side of the next hill. Climbing higher, he looked at the patchwork of different lands that surrounded them and smiled. Curving downward again, he soared just over the treetops.

  “Soon, all of these biomes will be the same,” Herobrine roared. “I will bring order and uniformity to this land. And when the villagers are all extinct, the endermen will be able to live in the Overworld forever, without ever needing to go back to The End. Minecraft will be ours and Gameknight999 will be destroyed.”

  The dragon released a booming laugh that sounded like explosive thunder. It shook the ground and made the very landscape quake in fear.

  CHAPTER 15

  PREPARING THE RUSE

  Gameknight entered the crafting chamber and was shocked at what he saw. NPCs were streaming in through the Minecart network; refugees from villages that had been attacked and destroyed by Herobrine and his band of monsters. They were flowing into the chamber, unstoppable. Haggard and scared from their ordeals, the NPCs’ square faces broadcasted looks of terror and disbelief.

  All crafting had stopped, creating an eerie silence in the chamber where the only sound heard was the clatter of the minecart wheels on the iron tracks. Crafter’s workers were working as hard as they could, helping people out of minecarts and trying to ease their fears and sorrow, but the flood of emotions was overwhelming.

  “My son—has anyone seen my son?” one mother asked, her face a visage of grief. “They killed my husband—my love—but where is my son?”

  The woman wept, her sobs filling the silence with an overwhelming sadness. Her tears were the first of the dominoes to fall; other villagers began crying out for their loved ones, the sounds of sorrow and dread filling the air.

  Then one of the refugees saw Gameknight999 at the top of the cobblestone stairs that led to the chamber floor.

  “The User-that-is-not-a-user is here!” someone shouted.

  Suddenly, their fears seem to subside.

  “He’ll stop them . . .”

  “The monsters are in for it now . . .”

  “Punish them . . .”

  The villagers all shouted up at him; their hopes of safety and revenge piling up on him like a massive load of bricks.

  Gameknight held up his hands to calm the villagers, silencing them. Scanning the crowd, he found his young friend, whose bright blue eyes and blond hair stood out in the throng.

  “Crafter, get these people to my castle!” Gameknight shouted. “There is room for everyone there. The chests in the keep have food and supplies.” He turned to a group of NPCs. “Builders, create rooms for all these families and be certain everyone has a home. Make sure all are cared for.”

  Crafter turned and looked at a group of NPCs. Nodding his blond head, he signaled for them to follow Gameknight’s commands. Having a task—moving to Gameknight’s castle—gave the villagers something to think about other than their loss. This brought a sense of relief to the refugees. It reminded him of something his mother had told him long ago: “Focusing on your troubles only feeds them, giving them deeper roots into your soul. The only way to uproot them is to focus on something that can be accomplished. Even the smallest victory can drive back the shadows of dread.” That’s what they needed, a small victory.

  Looking down at the approaching NPCs, he raised his voice so that it would pierce the clattering noise of minecarts in the chamber.

  “We need Castle Gameknight prepared for battle,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said. This brought the flow of bodies to a halt. “Villagers, I know your homes were destroyed, and I’m truly sorry. But your home is with us now. We will not let the monsters continue their reign of terror; they will be stopped. Right now, I need your help. The castle and the village must be prepared for battle. We need stone and sand and gravel for our defense. The walls need to be thicker and the archer towers higher. All must be prepared before the monsters reach our doorsteps. Can I count on your help?”

  The scared NPCs looked at each other for a moment, some exchanging sadness for fear and confusion, then one of them, a young boy about Stitcher’s age, yelled aloud: “I will help!”

  Scared faces turned to the boy and were shocked at the look of ferocity on his square face.

  “I’ll do whatever is needed,” shouted another.

  “Me too.”

  “And me.”

  The young boy had ignited an explosion of shouts and cheers. The mass of terrified villagers instantly turned from a crowd of defeated individuals to an army of warriors ready to take revenge on their foe. Gameknight smiled as the villagers ran up the steps, led by Crafter’s builders, all of them eager to get to the castle and begin construction.<
br />
  Monkeypants patted his son on the back.

  “You did that well,” he said.

  Gameknight999 shrugged, but still felt uncertain.

  Am I really helping these people, or just delaying their destruction? he wondered.

  He continued down the steps to find Crafter. Pushing through the villagers and workers, he found his friend near the side of the chamber, inspecting a new tunnel being carved into the cavern wall.

  “Crafter, where have all these people come from?” Gameknight asked.

  “They are the survivors of Herobrine’s latest attack,” the young NPC explained. “The monsters are attacking one village after another, and none of the village defenses are slowing them down.”

  “That’s because all the villagers are trying to stand against this flood by themselves,” Gameknight replied.

  “We need a focused, orchestrated defense,” Monkeypants agreed.

  “Yeah, my dad’s right. We need the villagers to stand together so that we can stop Herobrine.”

  “What do you suggest?” Digger boomed from behind.

  Gameknight turned and found the big NPC standing behind him, an iron pickaxe in his hands.

  “Their destructive path will eventually lead them here. We must be prepared. If we cannot stop the monster horde at one of the other villages, then we will make our last stand here,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said.

  Gameknight shuddered as he thought about an army of monsters descending upon their village. He knew that Herobrine would bring everything he had to destroy this village particularly. They would be completely outnumbered, and with the vicious powers of the Ender Dragon, their defenses would not last long. He shuddered again as tendrils of fear snaked their way through his soul.

  “They will crash upon our defenses and break themselves on our walls and traps. But we need time to prepare,” Crafter said. “The monster army must be slowed.”

  “We can go forth and delay the monsters,” Digger said. “But we need more NPCs.”

  “I will send out Riders,” Crafter said. “They will gather the people we need.”

  “We will need everyone we can find,” Digger said. “Have your Riders say that the User-that-is-not-the-user calls everyone to the defense of Minecraft. All will be needed to stop Herobrine and his monster horde. Who knows how many monsters he will have with him when he reaches our doorstep. Let all the NPCs know that it is our ancient enemy, Herobrine, who stalks us, and he will not stop until Minecraft itself is destroyed.”

  By now, other NPCs had moved close enough to hear their conversation in the crowded crafting chamber. Many looked worried, but when they saw the angry, confident look Gameknight wore, they all stood a little taller.

  “Riders, gather all villagers who will stand with us against Herobrine’s tide of destruction,” Crafter said in a loud, clear voice. “It is time that we stop letting him terrorize our friends and put him in a box somewhere!”

  Put him in a box . . . Gameknight thought.

  The words caused the puzzle pieces to tumble about in his head. Yes, that was part of the solution, but how do we get him to . . . the rest of the solution was still shrouded in mystery.

  “Gameknight, you OK?”

  “Ahh, what?” He turned and found Stitcher standing before him, Hunter at her side.

  “You had a kinda blank look on your face,” Hunter said.

  “I was just thinking,” Gameknight said. He turned and faced Crafter and Digger. “We need to delay Herobrine so we can get our defenses ready.”

  Just then, one of the NPCs walked past him with an armor stand. The thin stick-like structure could be used to hold a set of armor and, when fully equipped it looked almost like a person.

  He had an idea.

  “Come on, we need to get to the next village before Herobrine gets there,” Gameknight said. “I have a few ideas for our friends.”

  “Are they incredibly dangerous and insanely crazy?” Hunter asked.

  “No, not this time,” Gameknight answered.

  Hunter frowned and pouted. “Disappointing,” she said, then Stitcher punched her in the arm

  “We will have a surprise for Herobrine in the next village . . . and in the one after that, as well,” the User-that-is-not-a-user announced. “We need warriors, lots of them, and armor stands, as many as we can find.”

  Crafter looked at Digger, clearly confused, but Gameknight ignored the questioning stares. Instead, he gathered as much armor and TNT as he could hold from the crafting benches around the chamber, a mischievous smile growing on his square face.

  CHAPTER 16

  RATS TO THE TRAP

  Herobrine flew high in the air, his eyes glowing bright with anticipation. Another village was just over the next grassy hill, but a smattering of spruce trees blocked his view of the doomed community. It did not matter. It would all be smoky ruins soon enough.

  The army of endermen and zombies approached their target quietly, staying hidden. This time, they had teleported into the shadows of the forest and were slowly weaving their way between the thick trunks. Herobrine wanted the villagers to see them march out of the woods and slowly cross the grass-covered plain, magnifying the doomed NPCs’ fear and despair.

  The thought of the terror these idiotic villagers would feel was just delicious.

  As his troops reached the edge of the forest and started out into the open plain, Herobrine gave an earsplitting roar that carried across the landscape like angry thunder. Looking toward the village, the Ender Dragon could see defenders standing atop the battlements, waiting for their attackers to crash down upon them.

  But, strangely, none of the NPCs seemed to be running about, screaming in terror. They were just standing there, like they had been waiting for the monster army to arrive.

  “How very disappointing,” Herobrine growled.

  “What are your commands, Maker?” the king of the endermen asked.

  “Attack, you fool!” Herobrine boomed. “Destroy them all. Let none survive!”

  Feyd smiled, then motioned for the army to advance. A hundred monsters marched past the dragon and approached the village, the mixture of endermen and zombies creating a patchwork quilt of black and green doom that flowed over the grassy plain. Both Feyd and Xa-Tul rode their massive horses, the kings towering over their troops.

  The zombies growled and moaned in anticipation of the impending battle. As they drew near, Herobrine expected arrows to rain down upon his monsters, but the wall still stayed silent.

  “Be careful,” Herobrine bellowed. “This could be a trap set by the User-that-is-not-a-user.”

  Feyd screeched some response, but Herobrine could not hear the enderman. Below him, his monsters reached the base of the fortified wall. Armored NPC defenders stood on the wall as well as throughout the various wooden dwellings that had been assembled, yet none of them were moving.

  “What kind of plan is this, Gameknight999?” Herobrine growled. “Are you trying to bore us to death?”

  Turning in a great arc, the dragon soared along the wall. The zombies smashed their clawed fists against the wooden doors that barred them from entrance. In seconds, it smashed into splinters under the monstrous attack. In the midst of the raining wooden debris, the zombies flowed into the village, while Feyd and his endermen remained outside. Xa-Tul turned and looked at the endermen, then came back out of the gates, letting his zombies move through the village first. Herobrine was sure the zombie king was letting his own troops trigger whatever trap might be within the village.

  Suddenly, Herobrine saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He glared at the tall cobblestone watchtower. A stocky villager hid up there, moving cautiously to the ladder that descended to the ground. Next to the ladder was a lever tied to a line of redstone powder. The redstone disappeared into the towering structure, likely leading to some contraption built by the User-that-is-not-a-user. The villager looked up at the dragon and smiled, then reached out and flipped the lever.

&nb
sp; “IT’S A TRAP! EVERYONE GET OUT!” Herobrine screamed, but it was too late.

  Cubes of cobblestone suddenly rose up in front of the destroyed doors, the blocks riding on hidden pistons. The zombies were trapped within the village.

  Bellowing in rage, Herobrine swooped down on the defenders that still stood motionless on the fortified wall. Sparks of purple and pale yellow danced about his dark skin as he plunged toward the rigid NPCs. Reaching out with his pointed claws, he grabbed one of the defenders and threw him off the wall. An armor stand smashed to the ground, the leather armor in which it was clad scattered in all directions. He looked closely at the defenders; they were all armor stands.

  The village was deserted!

  Suddenly, an explosion blossomed from inside the village, tearing a great hole in the ground and driving the zombies toward the blocked-off exit. And then another went off. Blossoms of fire rose up into the air as zombie bodies were thrown about like discarded dolls, flashing red when they landed.

  Herobrine roared in frustration. The zombies were all crowding around the exit, pounding ineffectively on the stone blocks that prevented their escape.

  More explosions sounded through the village, the blasts carving great gashes into the flesh of Minecraft. The ground around the zombies erupted into deafening fire as a massive amount of TNT all exploded at the same time. The zombies were thrown in all directions at once, HP being ripped from their bodies, leaving only small piles of zombie flesh and glowing balls of XP.

  Anger boiled within Herobrine as he looked down on his defeated monsters. The yellow particles that danced about on his skin grew bright as his eyes blazed with fury. He’d probably lost fifty zombies to the User-that-is-not-a-user’s trickery.

  GROARRR!

  Herobrine’s roar echoed across the landscape.

  He flew back to the grassy plain facing the village and waited for the surviving monsters to return to his side. The endermen, seeing their master land on the ground, instantly teleported to his side. There was only one surviving zombie, Xa-Tul, who rode his decaying green horse slowly away from the village to join the others. As they stood there, explosions rumbled deep underground, making the ground shake slightly before going completely silent.