The Phantom Virus
Page 10
Many of the villagers ran toward them, but even more just stood there, in shock and unable to move. Glancing up into the sky, Gameknight could see more cubes of lava appearing within shimmering fields, hovering in midair over the village, slowly dripping liquid death upon whatever or whoever lay beneath. The wooden roof of a home burst into flames as a stream of lava slowly spread across the structure. Gameknight ran to it and opened the door. He found a young boy and girl inside, afraid to come out.
“It’s OK. Come with me,” Gameknight said softly as he sheathed his sword. “Your parents are outside. We’re going to join them.”
The children looked at each other nervously. Glancing up, Gameknight could see flames begin to lick at the blocks of the roof overhead, the orange glow of the lava getting brighter.
Stitcher was suddenly at his side, and approached the children. Holding out her hands, she silently took each of their hands and calmly led them out of the house just as the lava broke through. Once outside of the house, Gameknight picked up the boy while Stitcher lifted the girl. They both ran for the opening. Looking back, he realized they had escaped at the last possible second. The house was now completely engulfed in flame.
The User-that-is-not-a-user stopped one of the villagers and handed them the boy, then ran back into the village. One side of the community was completely blocked off with lava and flames, but he could still hear voices beyond the burning wall of fire. Running to the village well, Gameknight filled a bucket, then charged toward the barrier of fire. He moved up next to the flowing lava and heaved the water forward. The liquid pushed him back a few blocks, but also put out the flames. Where the water touched lava, the molten stone turned to cobblestone and obsidian. Placing a block of dirt on the source of the water, the streaming liquid quickly disappeared. He’d successfully made a small bridge across the flaming barrier. Gameknight jumped over the still-warm stone and charged forward.
“OVER HERE!” Gameknight yelled to everyone trapped on the other side. “COME TOWARD MY VOICE!”
He could hear the sound of running feet, though he could see little through all the smoke. A stream of NPCs suddenly appeared through the haze, some of them wearing singed smocks.
“Come on, this way,” Gameknight said as he spun and sprinted for safety.
Many villagers came forth out of the smoke and leapt over the steaming cobblestone, escaping the burning side. But Gameknight could still hear more voices trapped behind flames. More lava spilled down in front of him, creating a wide river of molten stone that was at least a dozen blocks wide. Water could only spread six blocks in Minecraft, and he only had one bucket of water left. This new boiling barrier had completely sealed off the smoky portion of the village, trapping the screaming NPCs behind a wall of flame and lava. The villagers were doomed.
Gameknight could feel a tear trickle down his face as burning rage and overwhelming guilt filled his mind.
“Gameknight, get out of there!” Stitcher yelled from the opening in the wall.
Looking toward the voice, he turned and led the NPCs in front of him to the exit. They raced across their village as it burned to the ground, weaving around new columns of lava as more of the boiling stone appeared overhead. Pools of the deadly liquid began to expand across the ground of the village, making it more and more difficult to get to the opening. Then, just as they were about to start crossing, a lava block formed over the opening in the wall, covering their only way out of the village with liquid death.
What do I do? Gameknight thought. Where do we go?
Thankfully, his friends on the other side had prepared for such a setback. Another explosion shook the ground as a new section of the wall disappeared near the animal pens.
“This way!” the User-that-is-not-a-user shouted.
He streaked toward the newly-created escape route, the NPCs following close behind, everyone weaving around expanding pools of deadly lava. When he reached the opening, Gameknight pulled out his pickaxe and shattered the fences of the animal pens while the villagers streamed through the exit. Pigs, chickens, cows, and horses followed the villagers out of the doomed community as more lava appeared overhead.
Gameknight could still hear screaming from within the village, but the area had now become completely covered with lava. There was no escape for those still trapped within.
“Everyone move back away from the wall!” Digger boomed.
Someone grabbed Gameknight’s arm and pulled him away from the village. Despite his protests, they led him up to the top of a sand dune where the NPCs had congregated. The village was now completely consumed in flames and lava. Gameknight put his head in his hands, thinking of all the remaining villagers trapped inside, knowing there wasn’t any way to help them escape.
“Look!” one of the villagers exclaimed, and Gameknight looked up.
As they all watched, new shimmering fields appeared above the flowing village, even higher up in the air than the lava pouring down. But instead of lava, it was water that fell from on high, flowing over the molten stone that now covered everything. Everywhere the water touched lava, cobblestone or obsidian formed. In seconds, the lava became a sarcophagus of stone, the gray and black cubes creating a large, smoking blister on the surface of Minecraft.
“How could this be?” Gameknight said as he put his face in his hands again.
Tears flowed for what seemed like an eternity. He could still hear the cries of those still trapped with the village, people he’d been too slow to save, but their voices gradually quieted in his mind as the heat and smoke took their final toll. Someone sat down next to him and put their arm around his shoulders. Gameknight looked up to see it was Hunter, her eyes moist as well.
“This wasn’t your fault,” she said.
“If I’d gotten here sooner, we could have—”
“This was not your fault,” she said again.
“But all that lava—there were still NPCs trapped in there. I wasn’t fast enough to save them.” He wiped his eyes on his dirty sleeve. “How could anyone do this to another living creature?”
“I don’t know,” Hunter replied, her voice cracking with emotion.
The sun began to rise over the eastern horizon, casting the first rays of sunlight on the scene of the disaster. Gameknight stood and hung his head low. He was about to say something when a voice pierced through the gloom.
“Signs over here!” Digger boomed.
Hunter grabbed Gameknight’s arm and pulled him to Digger. When he finally looked up, Gameknight saw multiple signs, all lined up in a neat row, one behind the next.
“Gameknight, come read these,” Digger said. “I’m sure they were meant for you.”
He stepped up to the first. Choking back more tears of guilt, he read.
“It says, ‘I’VE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR A LONG TIME.’” He pulled out his diamond pickaxe and shattered the sign. “The next one says, ‘NONE OF THE VILLAGERS SURVIVED, BECAUSE OF GAMEKNIGHT999.’” Gameknight could almost hear Herobrine’s mocking voice as he read. He shattered the sign and stepped forward to the next one. “‘YOU CAUSED THIS. THEIR DEATHS ARE YOUR FAULT!’ Like I didn’t know that already,” he growled as he destroyed it as well.
Gameknight sighed. He found Hunter at one side, Stitcher at the other. The sisters pressed against him so he could feel their shoulders rubbing against his, their strength ready to help him in any way he needed.
But all I need right now is to just disappear. This is all my fault.
“What does the next one say?” Crafter asked.
Gameknight cleared his throat as he fought back the tears.
“It says, ‘NEXT WILL BE ALL THE VILLAGES AT ONCE.’” Gameknight smashed that sign to reveal the last one. “The last one says, ‘LAVA FOR EVERYONE! TICK TOCK TICK TOCK … :-)’”
The meaning of these last two struck Gameknight hard. He sat on the ground, feeling defeated.
“He’s going to do this lava thing on all the villages?” the User-that-is-not-a-user moaned. “Ho
w am I supposed to stop him?”
Gameknight looked down at the mound of stone and obsidian. Water sources were still spewing liquid that flowed down the sides of the tomb and spread out across the desert. From behind, the User-that-is-not-a-user could hear someone digging with a shovel. They shouted when they found the redstone circuits, then cheered when they broke the redstone lines leading to the command blocks.
Lost in his gloom, he barely took notice. Before him was a monument to his failure. But soon, it would only be the first symbol of how the User-that-is-not-a-user had let Minecraft down. When time ran out, all of the villages would be destroyed just like the one below … and there was nothing Gameknight could do but watch.
CHAPTER 17
MAP
I’ve let them all down, Gameknight thought. All those NPCs that were trapped in the village are now gone.
The guilt was overwhelming; tears still trickled down his cheeks.
“This is all my fault,” Gameknight said, his voice barely audible. He looked down at the ground, defeated.
A hand settled gently on his head. Looking up, Gameknight found Crafter looking down at him.
“Gameknight, we all make choices in our lives,” Crafter said, his bright blue eyes boring into his friend as if they looked right into his soul. “And these choices define the kind of person we are and who we want to become. Some people always make the easy decision and take the easy path, while others pick the hard choice that might help other people. You always choose the latter, trying to help as many people as you can. But you cannot help everyone, and you cannot be responsible for everyone.”
“But if I had stopped Herobrine sooner, then—”
“If … IF,” Crafter snapped, his calm face now showing a scowl. “You don’t know what would have happened if you had done something different. You can’t go back in time and do things over. All you can do is live with the choices you’ve made and try your best to learn from them.”
“I know, but—” Gameknight said, but was interrupted again.
“There is no but … there is only now,” Crafter said, as if stating some kind of universal truth. “You made your choices and Herobrine made his. Both of you will be held accountable for your actions, just as I am held accountable for my choices as well. Herobrine chose to do this terrible thing. It was his decision and no one else’s, and he is the one responsible. You did everything you could to stop him, and finally, you were successful. This is something that we all are proud of. There is no doubt we would have wanted to stop him sooner. We made the best decisions we could, and eventually stopped that monster. But don’t think for a second that you are responsible for this village being destroyed because you didn’t stop him sooner. That’s ridiculous.”
Crafter looked down at Gameknight999. Compassion filled his blue eyes.
“Herobrine made the choice to program the command block to dump lava on this community. That monster activated the timers that set all this into motion, and he is responsible for the consequences here. To say you are responsible for this is like saying the rain is responsible for someone getting wet because they didn’t take the time to fix their roof.” He took a step closer, then knelt in front of his friend. “Our decisions define who we are. Don’t let Herobrine choose who you will be.”
“That’s good and all, but we can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Hunter said.
“What do you suggest?” Digger asked.
“Well …”
“The ‘tick tock’ must mean he has a timer somewhere,” Crafter interrupted.
Gameknight stood, considering Crafter’s words, but they hung hollow in his mind. Hunter nudged him in the back, trying to make Gameknight speak, but all he could do was hang his head in shame. Hunter glared at him for a moment, then turned away.
“If we shut off all the timers, then we’ll save the villages,” Digger said.
“But we have no way of knowing where the command blocks are buried,” Hunter said. “We can’t go to every village and just wait until the signs appear.”
“No, we can’t,” Crafter said. “But Herobrine probably has a central timer. His sign said he was going to do this to all the villages at the same time. That means he’ll have one timer somewhere that will turn on all the command blocks.”
“But it’s not like we have a map that tells us where his timer is located,” Herder said.
Gameknight barely heard any of the conversation. The whole scene was like a dream—no, a nightmare. He felt defeated, the overwhelming sense of guilt hammering at him from all sides.
If only I’d stopped Herobrine sooner. If only I’d been strong enough or fast enough to save these villagers. If only … the litany of guilt continued to parade through his mind. But as he spiraled deeper into depression, the light of something Herder said shone through his gloom like a distant beacon.
A map …
Gameknight thought about maps. His friends continued to debate what to do next, their words passing through him as if he were a ghost. But that single word seemed to bounce around in his mind … map.
“But it’s not like we have a map that tells us where his timer is located.” Herder’s words resonated in his mind.
Gameknight remembered something his father had told him. “You can’t focus on your fears, for fear will consume your courage and strength to fight. When you focus on what you can do instead of what you are afraid of, your fear will evaporate and allow you to think.”
The image of his father in his ridiculous monkey face and Superman outfit brought momentary relief from the anger and sadness that was washing over him, and allowed him to think for just an instant. Focus on what you can do, he thought. At that moment, Gameknight knew what he could do.
Maybe if they mapped out everything that had happened, he’d see a pattern. As his friends argued around him, trying to come up with a plan, Gameknight stood and pulled a crafting bench out of his inventory, placing it on the ground. Going back into his inventory, he found a compass and a stack of paper. He wasn’t sure who’d given him the items and didn’t care; right now he was only focused on the immediate task at hand.
Placing the compass at the center of the crafting bench, he quickly placed sheets of paper along the perimeter. Instantly, the items changed into a map, its edges tattered and frayed as if it were ancient.
“What are you doing, Gameknight999?” Crafter asked.
He didn’t respond. Holding the map out in front of him, Gameknight could see the stone-covered village at the center, the desert wrapping around it on all sides.
“It’s too small,” Gameknight muttered.
“What did you say?” Digger asked.
He ignored them and concentrated on his task.
Putting the map back on the crafting bench, Gameknight placed pieces of paper around the edges. The map suddenly grew bigger, the image zooming out. Inspecting it, he could see the area the chart covered was now larger, but it was still too small. He repeated the process two more times, until he had a full-sized map.
“What are you doing?” Hunter asked. “Planning a trip or something?”
“Hunterrrr,” Stitcher chided.
The older sister rolled her eyes.
The User-that-is-not-a-user suddenly looked up from the map. He was shocked to find everyone staring at him, questions on all their square faces.
“Ahh … I was just thinking about something Herder said about a map,” Gameknight explained as he used his sleeve to dry the tears from his cheek.
He pulled out an item frame and placed it on the side of a nearby block of sandstone. He then placed the map in the frame. Stepping back, he stared at it for a minute, then another minute, then another. He stood like a statue, staring at the map, examining every aspect … then a revelation burst within his mind.
“He’s pointing us straight to it,” Gameknight whispered.
The NPCs had long turned away from Gameknight, believing that they had better things to do than stand around and watch him ti
nker. They’d begun arguing again about what to do next, many of them weeping aloud for those lost under the lava. Only Crafter still stood next to him, listening.
“What?” Crafter asked. “Tell us what you see here.”
“If you look,” Gameknight explained, “you can see where Herobrine’s first command block attacks occurred, at the bottom left of the map, in your village.” He pointed to the spot with a stubby finger. Anger began to bubble up through the haze of guilt. Some of the villagers muttered angry curses. “And then the rain of bones and snowballs … a little farther up and to the right.” Gameknight could hear Crafter hiss, his anger reaching the level of Gameknight’s. “The location of the falling sheep was up and to the right as well, and then the attack by the wolves right here.” The User-that-is-not-a-user looked up from the map and glanced at Herder. He could see the lanky boy’s eyes burn with anger, as did his own, as they all relived Herobrine’s terrible tricks. His sense of guilt was quickly becoming a fading memory, as rage pushed everything aside. Gameknight999 looked back down at the map. “So you can see, all of Herobrine’s attacks were lying along a line that pointed right to this village, and to …”
The User-that-is-not-a-user realized his voice had grown louder and louder as his anger blossomed, and those around him had become very quiet. Looking away from the map, Gameknight found all eyes focused on him.
“I think I know how to find Herobrine’s timer,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said. “All of Herobrine’s attacks have been along a line that goes from Crafter’s village to this village. He did these attacks so that it would lead us here. That vile creature wanted us to witness this attack and feel powerless to do anything about it!” Suddenly, Gameknight realized he was shouting.
“That sounds like Herobrine,” Crafter agreed.
Gameknight took a deep breath and brought his anger under control.
“But in his arrogance, he actually showed us where his timer was hidden,” Gameknight said, the anger beginning to boil. He moved his finger along the map, starting at Crafter’s village, moving it along the trajectory of their adventure until it landed at the current village. He then moved his finger along that path until it came to a gigantic mountain that filled the top corner of the map.