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System Overload

Page 3

by Mark Cheverton


  Dashing for the iron doors, Gameknight ran down the steps, two at a time, until he reached the floor of the crafting chamber.

  “This way,” Cobbler said as he pulled a minecart from a chest and set it on the tracks. “Come on, follow me.”

  The boy disappeared into the tunnel, the metal wheels making a clattering sound as they rolled down the rails.

  “I guess we’re following,” Hunter said when she reached Gameknight’s side.

  “Looks that way,” he replied.

  They all grabbed a minecart. Gameknight could just barely see the young boy in the darkness of the tunnel. He had no idea where this Cobbler was taking them or where his village was located, but the minecart network stretched all throughout Minecraft. Users didn’t know of its existence; it was one of the great secrets of the Overworld.

  Soon, the tunnel led to a new crafting chamber. When Gameknight emerged, he could see tunnels piercing the walls of the huge cavern, with mine-cart rails heading out in all directions. Cobbler stood near one of the tracks, waiting for the User-that-is-not-a-user and his friends.

  “Cobbler, can you tell us where we’re going?” the User-that-is-not-a-user asked.

  But as soon as Gameknight made eye contact with the young boy, he disappeared into the next tunnel.

  “He seems very anxious to get to his village,” Crafter said.

  “Maybe if I shoot him with an arrow, he’ll slow down a little,” Hunter grumbled.

  Stitcher punched her older sister in the arm.

  “Ouch … I was just kidding,” the older sister complained.

  “I know. That’s why I didn’t hit you very hard,” she replied.

  Digger gave out a booming laugh, then placed his minecart on the tracks and climbed in. He pushed off, causing the tiny metal car to roll forward slowly. When it went over the redstone-powered track, it shot off into the tunnel and disappeared in the darkness, with the rest of the friends not far behind.

  After traversing through six different crafting chambers, they finally came to their destination: Cobbler’s home. When Gameknight emerged from the dark tunnel, he found the young boy standing in the middle of the crafting chamber, just staring at the stairs that led to the surface. He moved to the boy’s side.

  “Is this your village?” Gameknight asked.

  He nodded his head.

  “Then how about we go up and see if everyone is back already?” the User-that-is-not-a-user said.

  “I’m afraid,” Cobbler whispered. “Why does everything bad happen to me?”

  “What are you talking about?” Gameknight replied in a soft voice. “Let’s just go up and see how things are in your village. We can solve this mystery, together, just you and me.”

  “Well, and all of us, too,” Hunter said, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

  It startled Gameknight and Cobbler, making them jump.

  “Oops, sorry,” Hunter said meekly.

  Stitcher punched her sister in the arm again.

  “Ouch,” the older sister complained.

  “You deserved that,” the younger said, “as usual.”

  Hunter flashed a smile to her sister, then pulled her enchanted bow from her inventory. She notched an arrow to the bowstring and headed up the stairs that led to the surface. Stitcher followed close behind, her weapon loaded and ready as well.

  “Come on,” Gameknight said as he drew his enchanted diamond sword. “You and me together. It will be alright.”

  “I doubt that,” Cobbler said. “It never is alright when it involves me. It always goes wrong.”

  The User-that-is-not-a-user looked down at the young boy with sad eyes. He felt sorry for Cobbler.

  How can someone so young be so sad and pessimistic, Gameknight thought? He has no one expecting him to save everyone, or defeat a bunch of monster kings, or face off against someone as terrifying as Herobrine. What does Cobbler have to complain about?

  “Well, we have to go up and find out,” Gameknight replied. “Let’s go.”

  Reaching into his inventory, Cobbler withdrew his iron sword and sighed. He then headed up the steps with the User-that-is-not-a-user right behind. They walked slowly through the tunnels and climbed the tall ladder that led up inside the watchtower. Hunter and Stitcher were ready to climb the ladders to the top of the tower while Digger and Crafter stood near the door.

  “Ok, we’re all here,” Crafter said. “Let’s go see if we can solve this mystery.”

  “I doubt it,” Cobbler mumbled.

  Crafter opened the wooden door and stepped out into the courtyard, followed by the rest of the party. Gameknight walked out right behind Cobbler and stayed at the young boy’s side.

  It was night in the desert, and the area was bathed in silvery moonlight. Glancing up toward the dark sky, Gameknight saw the countless stars that sparkled down at him—a beautiful backdrop for the half-filled moon that sat high in the sky.

  Bringing his eyes back to his surroundings, the User-that-is-not-a-user noticed how silent everything seemed; it was quiet as a graveyard. No animals or people or anything made any sound, except the constant east-to-west wind that always blew in Minecraft. Gameknight ran to the top of the sandstone wall and gazed out into the desert. He scanned the surroundings, walking the perimeter of the village twice as he searched for threats. From the top of the fortified wall, he could hear the small dried plants that dotted the dunes rustling in the breeze, their brown leaves scraping against each other as they fluttered. Tall, green cactus stood vigil all across the desert like prickly sentinels. Their green, barrel-like bodies stood tall and proud as they watched over the sandy wasteland.

  No one else was here, no monsters or NPCs. The village and surrounding desert were completely abandoned.

  Going back down to the ground, Gameknight walked to the village gates, but the wooden doors were missing. He’d expected that maybe he’d find them left open, or closed, but not missing … why would that be?

  Crafter approached and spoke in a low voice.

  “I’ve been all through the village,” the young NPC said. “There isn’t a trace of anyone ever having lived here.”

  “You think Cobbler lied about this being his village?” Gameknight asked Crafter, who was now at his side.

  “Why would he do that?” his friend said softly. “He traveled quite a ways to get to us and ask for help. It wouldn’t make sense for him to do that if he was lying.”

  “Then what happened here?” the User-that-is-not-a-user asked as he pulled out an apple and ate it. He could feel his hunger dissipate quickly. Crafter did the same.

  “Maybe it was endermen?” Digger suggested. He’d walked up behind Gameknight at some point during the conversation. “They could make people vanish without a trace.”

  “But they would need to be enraged to do something like that,” Gameknight said. “All villagers know to look away from endermen and avoid striking them, so as not to anger them and allow the shadowy creatures to attack.”

  “And besides, all the chests in the village are either empty or missing,” Crafter said. “Why would endermen take the NPCs’ belongings as well?”

  “I don’t know,” Digger admitted.

  “Then who or what did this?” Crafter asked.

  “Where are all my fellow villagers?” Cobbler asked as he approached. “Did you learn anything?”

  Gameknight looked at the young boy, then shook his head.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have gone out to gather birch wood,” the young boy said. “This is probably all my fault, somehow.”

  “Don’t be silly, Cobbler,” Stitcher said. “Why would you be responsible for your villagers disappearing?”

  “Whatever’s going on,” Gameknight said, “someone is trying really hard to keep what happened here a secret. If it were the monsters, why would they want to hide this atrocity?”

  “Monsters don’t care if we know about their violence,” Hunter added. “In fact, they would probably want us to know, to scar
e us. They have no conscience and feel no guilt. So why keep it a secret?”

  Gameknight sighed and gave her a shrug.

  “Don’t worry, Cobbler. We will find out what happened here and get your villagers back,” Crafter reassured. “And why whoever is responsible worked so hard to keep it a secret.”

  “The reason for that secret is what really scares me,” Gameknight said softly.

  He turned and stared out into the open desert as cold fingers of dread kneaded his soul.

  CHAPTER 4

  CAPTIVES

  Xa-Tul paced back and forth in the large cave. The green light from the lone HP fountain did little to add much illumination to the chamber. They had to rely on the few pools of lava that sat on the edges of the cave to light the entire cavern.

  “These old zombie-towns are pathetic. What were they thinking back then?” Xa-Tul grumbled.

  “Some of the elder zombies have said these towns were used during the Great Zombie Invasion,” one of the generals named So-Kar said. “Creepers were used to dig out these caves, one of the elders said.”

  “This information is of no interest to Xa-Tul,” the zombie king said. “Zombie-towns are a prison. The HP fountains keep zombies chained to their homes, making it impossible to travel far across the land. With that and the burning rays of the sun, the zombie race has been held captive and punished since that ancient war. When Herobrine’s last great plan is completed, the zombies will finally be free.”

  “It would be a great honor if Xa-Tul could share Herobrine’s plan with this zombie,” the general suggested timidly.

  “It is not important for any of my generals to know the plan. It is only important to follow directions,” Xa-Tul growled.

  The zombie backed away nervously and lowered his scarred head.

  “Where are the zombies and villagers?” Xa-Tul growled.

  “Should this zombie go check again?” So-Kar asked.

  “No, just go away and stop bothering the king.”

  “Yes, Sire,” the zombie said, and quickly left his side.

  Xa-Tul glared at the zombie-town with contempt.

  It’s so small, so pitifully small, the zombie king thought. Fortunately, there are many of these caves all throughout the Overworld. When all caves are filled, Xa-Tul’s zombies will be brought to the main cave, where Herobrine’s Revenge will be realized.

  Xa-Tul was impatient, not only because he was waiting for his new prisoners to arrive, but also about executing Herobrine’s final command. He paced across the chamber, veering around the many craters that peppered the ground, growling softly.

  “Zombies are coming,” moaned a monster near the wide entrance to the cavern.

  Xa-Tul strode toward the dark passage and waited impatiently near the opening. He could hear the sound of sharp claws scratching across the stony ground as zombie feet approached. Soft moans drifted out of the passage, then became louder and louder.

  Finally, he saw them.

  His army of zombies shuffled through the passage with a group of NPC prisoners. Some of the villagers tripped and stumbled on the uneven floor, but those who dropped to the ground quickly felt sharp zombie claws across their arms, yanking them back up into formation.

  “Bring the prisoners here, to Xa-Tul!” the zombie king bellowed, his bombastic voice echoing all throughout the chamber.

  The zombie army pushed and prodded the villagers until they were standing before their new master.

  “The villagers before Xa-Tul are now prisoners of the zombie nation,” the zombie king said as he paced back and forth before the NPCs like a predatory cat. “Escape is impossible. Any attempt to flee will have fatal consequences.” One of the villagers raised his hand to ask a question. Xa-Tul glared at the pathetic NPC with such venomous hatred that he withdrew his hand and quickly lowered his sad eyes to the ground.

  “All NPCs must work in order to continue to live. This is an ancient zombie-town from the old days. NPCs do not know of its existence; only zombies are aware of its location. It has been long-abandoned because it is too small for a full zombie-town. But some visiting zombies will now be using it. All villagers must dig tunnels and caves for these new zombies, as they will be arriving soon. If there isn’t enough room to fit all the zombies, then NPCs will be destroyed to make room. Is that clear?”

  He glared down at the prisoners and growled, showing his pointed teeth. Most just looked at the ground, defeated. It made Xa-Tul laugh.

  “Good … now get to work,” Xa-Tul grumbled. “General So-Kar, make sure none of the prisoners have any weapons. If a sword or bow is found on anyone, destroy both the weapon and the owner.”

  In response, a handful of weapons clattered to the ground. It made Xa-Tul laugh again.

  “These villagers are like sheep,” he said to himself.

  Xa-Tul turned to another of his generals, a zombie clad in golden armor and holding a gold sword.

  “Ta-Ren, take some of the villagers to the portal room and expand it. There will be many zombies coming through the portals. It is important that they are not delayed because the passages are too narrow. Get them enlarged … now.”

  The general snapped to attention, acknowledging the order. Quickly, Ta-Ren gave out orders, splitting the villagers up in groups and distributing them throughout the chamber. When they began to dig, Xa-Tul motioned for Ta-Ren to approach.

  “One more thing, general,” the zombie king said.

  The general stared up into the face of his master.

  “I want you to destroy one of the villagers, just to make an example of them for the others. These prisoners must be properly motivated,” the zombie king said. “It does not matter what they do, or even if they are working slowly or not … just destroy one. There will be many more villagers coming soon to replace them. It is OK to eliminate one or two just to set the proper tone.”

  Ta-Ren smiled, his sharp, pointed teeth gleaming in the light of the HP fountain. “It will be a pleasure,” the general replied.

  Xa-Tul laughed, then turned and walked to the steps that led down to the portal room. Villagers were digging into the walls of the stairway, widening it. When they saw him approach, they swung their pickaxes twice as hard, fear painted across their faces.

  “You NPCs are pathetic,” he growled as he walked down the stairs.

  When he reached the portal room, the zombie king looked upon the three glowing gateways, each portal ringed in obsidian. The purple doorway that led to the Nether did not interest Xa-Tul, but the green portal and the pale yellow portal were of great importance.

  He walked up to the yellow one and stared into the sparkling sheet.

  “Soon, zombies will be flowing from here into Xa-Tul’s zombie-town,” the king said. “But the zombie-towns must be ready.”

  He glanced toward the stairway and saw one of the villagers staring at him, listening.

  “Back to work or be destroyed!” Xa-Tul yelled.

  The villager quickly turned around and chipped away at the stone wall as if his life depended on it … and it did.

  The zombie king then moved to the green portal. He stepped into it, then turned around and glared at the NPC, his vision slowly wavering.

  “Soon … all towns will be filled with zombies!” Xa-Tul shouted as he departed. “And then, Herobrine’s Revenge will be realized!”

  CHAPTER 5

  ANOTHER MYSTERY

  For lack of a better idea, everyone piled back into their minecarts and headed back to Crafter’s village. During the trek back home, Gameknight felt like he was missing something.

  “If Cobbler had been home at the time of the attack, he’d be gone too, and we’d never have known the villagers were taken,” Gameknight shouted to Hunter in the cart behind him.

  “Yeah, so what?” she answered.

  “So how does it help the monsters to keep their activities a secret?” Gameknight asked. “What could they be up to?”

  “Maybe I should give you the same answer I gave t
en minutes ago: I don’t know.”

  “Oh … ahh … sorry, I’m just thinking out loud,” Gameknight said.

  “Maybe you can do your thinking a little softer,” she said sarcastically.

  “We’re missing something,” he muttered quietly to himself. “There must be a clue somewhere. This is not just some mistake by Cobbler. Something is going on, and it’s important; I can feel it. And if we don’t stop it, then more people will be at risk. I have to figure this out … everyone is counting on me.”

  Gameknight imagined what it must have been like for all those villagers. Maybe it was a massive monster attack with spiders and creepers and zombies and endermen. There were still three monster kings roaming about: Xa-Tul, the king of the zombies, Feyd, the king of the endermen, and Oxus, the king of the creepers. Gameknight figured that Oxus just wanted to hide out in his creeper hive under that volcano. He had no reason to attack this village. And beside, it was extremely far from his kingdom.

  “It can’t be the creepers,” Gameknight said in a low voice to himself. “It must be the endermen or the zombies. The spiders no longer have a queen, and the skeletons are leaderless. None of them will work together, and they’re scattered all across the server. This was an organized attack.”

  “Are you still talking?” Hunter asked. “I stopped listening a while ago.”

  Gameknight ignored her. He had to focus on all the possibilities. But before any idea could galvanize within his head, his minecart shot out into the bright light of the crafting chamber.

  When he exited, the User-that-is-not-a-user found the chamber already buzzing with conversation. The NPCs near the minecart tracks immediately began asking what happened and were shocked when they heard the village was found completely empty.

  Crafter was the last to come out of the tunnel. When he finally emerged, the young NPC moved to Gameknight’s side. By now, more villagers were streaming down into the crafting chamber.

 

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