This was another new land, and was easily the most inhospitable of anything we’d ever encountered.

Through aquamarine mist, we could see what looked like a valley, but a valley composed mainly of soul sand. That’s where the lights were coming from. Patches of them were burning, eerie flickers that looked more suited to the burners of a stove. They even smelled a little like a stove, that whiff of gas before it lights. And maybe this might be a mistake of my hazy memory, but isn’t that gas poisonous if breathed?

Death seemed to hang there, and yeah, I know it sounds a little overly dramatic, but you’ll see soon enough what I mean.

We rode to the edge of the shore, and said, at least in my case, an emotional farewell to our underworld steeds.

“Right, off you go then.” That was all Summer said to hers, riding the walker onto land, then hopping off and shoving the quivering, clearly suffering animal back into its liquid habitat.

My actions were similar, but as the burbling, quill-headed face turned back in my direction, I couldn’t help but say, “Thank you.”

I hadn’t had long to get to know the animal, but in the short time we’d been together, I couldn’t help but think back to Moo. I wondered how she was doing, along with the rest of the animal gang. And I know this is just silly and sentimental, but as the walker strolled away into the heat, I whispered, “If you ever find yourself up top and need a friend, I got a whole island of them that I know would be glad to meet you.”

“Here we go then,” chirped my partner. “And from the looks of things we’re in for quite a slog.”

What she meant was the soul sand—the whole slowing beach of it. Crunch, crunch, crunch, one plodding footstep at a time. And it didn’t help that I could feel the stuff scrape down into my boots.

“Don’t worry”—Summer must have known what I was thinking—“it’ll vanish when we get out, like pop-drying when you get out of water.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” I grumbled, feeling the hard, scratchy grit between my toes.

“You’ll live,” scolded Summer.

“He didn’t,” I volleyed, motioning to the weird, white, four block arches we were passing. Not quartz, which you could see the closer we got. I reached out to punch one of the blocks and, just as I suspected, it turned out to be solid bone.

This was a skeleton, the leftover of some gigantic life-form. “Go figure,” I huffed, “a brand-new place with ancient bones.”

“And ruins,” added Summer, pointing to another kind of skeleton. Yes, this time, I am being poetic. Because this was the skeleton of a fortress. Smashed, hollowed-out ruins that, back in its heyday, must have been a magnificent bastion.

Unlike the tall, slim towers that rose from lava, this land-based redoubt was comprised of two shorter, thicker keeps. Isn’t that the word for castle buildings? “Keeps”? One of them looked reasonably intact, while the other appeared to be gutted down to its “bones.”

“And no,” said Summer, preempting what she knew was coming, “I definitely do not want to investigate.”

“Why?” I argued. “The portal’s not going anywhere. And with all the changes, who knows what’s waiting for us up ahead. If this place”—I jerked my head to the black castle—“is anything like the lava forts, we might find chests of stuff we’ll need.”

“And if we find other baddies?” countered Summer.

“Then you can blame me for everything on our way to the afterlife?”

I was really impressed with that comeback. I think I even nodded at myself.

Summer just took a moment, sighed, and changed course for the ruins.

And, wow, were they ruined.

You could barely make out what the original structure used to be. What I thought was the intact keep seemed to be a patchwork of various materials. There was that wavy grayish rock, some black stone, bricks made from black stone, and, as we got close enough to be sure, black stone embedded with flecks of gold.

“There’s got to be enough here to make me a new helmet,” I said, admiring the tantalizing luster. “And then some.”

“We can collect it on the way back,” said Summer nervously. “Let’s not dilly-dally now.”

“Wouldn’t want to ‘dilly-dally,’ ” I replied, half-teasing, half-agreeing. “Is that a light?”

Around the corner, on the first of the connecting floors.

“Probably more lava,” said Summer, as we crept around for a look. What we found was a lantern, instantly recognizable by the metal cage.

“You think these came with the change?” I asked, punching it off the ceiling. Just like a torch, it blinked out in my hand.

“Couldn’t care less,” said Summer. “I’m just grateful for the light.”

“I concur,” I said, reattaching it to the wall. “And there’s another!”

Below us, down sloping black stone, we could see one illuminating a lower floor.

“Careful,” warned Summer, looking and listening with each step.

This basement, or subbasement, level looked like nothing but a showroom of every way to die in the Nether. Patches of magma blocks, small pools of open lava, a few dark holes that dropped into who knows what, and, as we peered across the vast, wrecked space, the faint, distant movement of either a battle boar or a lone piggite.

“Let’s get out of here,” suggested Summer, turning back for the steps.

“Wait!” I pointed to something nearly hidden by a black stone brick column. A color that wasn’t supposed to be here. Tan and bright.

“A chest!” I hopped down the last step, scampering across the hazard-laden ground. “Jack-POT!”

Gold! Not just flakes or nuggets or even bars, but pure blocks of it! Enough for weapons, tools, and whole suits of armor! And that wasn’t the only metal. There were a few plates of this brown, battered, really tough-looking stuff. Something unique to this world, probably, something that sent my curiosity into overdrive.

“And what’s this?”

It looked like obsidian, but veined with some luminescent purple material.

“We can figure it out later,” snapped Summer as I continued to rummage like a kid in a toy store.

“Food!” I cried, handing her two cooked pork chops. “For both of us!” There were also nine golden carrots hanging out in the bottom of the chest. Sweet. Crunchy. And gilded with extra healing!

“Oh, that’s better,” I hummed as my regenerating body banished the aches and pains. I continued to look through the chest and found arrows—three for each of us.

And, finally, the greatest treasure in this or any other world.

A book!

“It’s all here!” I gasped, thumbing quickly through the pages. “Everything we need to know about the changes!”

“Can we know them later?” Summer was not amused.

And I wasn’t listening.

“Get this! The crimson forests are actually called ‘Crimson Forests.’ Nailed it! The blue-green ones are called ‘Warped,’ for some reason. Our lava walkers are ‘striders.’ ”

“Guy…” Her voice was lower now, more businesslike than annoyed.

“That jagged maze we just rode through is a ‘basalt delta’…”

“Guy,” slightly louder, more urgent.

“And this new metal here is called—”

“Hhrrurrhh!”

Book closed, eyes up.

A herd of battle boars, or to be accurate, hoglins—thanks, book—had just entered the opposite end of the basement. I saw them just as they saw us.

“Right!” I yipped as their meandering trot became a focused gallop. “Let’s go!”

Back up the stairs, and right into…

Piglins. That’s what the book called them, and judging by the way they came after my non-gold-helmeted self, they clearly called me “target.”

“The other tower!” Summer shouted, stepping back to allow me to get past her. “I’ll cover you!” I wouldn’t have known what she meant if I hadn’t glanced back just for a second. Ever heard the phrase “passive resistance”? I’m not sure where I read it, and I’m not sure exactly what it means. But in this case, it applied to Summer, just standing there in front of the piglins. She wasn’t attacking them, just passively blocking their path.

The piglins, for their part, didn’t seem to notice she was there, or else did and didn’t see her as anything more than a stubborn member of their party. I heard them snort, probably saying, “Hey, buddy, out of the way.” But none of them raised a weapon to attack.

“Thanks, Summer!” I called, running through a hole in the other keep’s wall…

…and wishing, a second later, that I’d done anything else.

From the outside, this keep still looked reasonably solid. But as soon as I stepped into the main chamber, I saw that it was completely hollow. Most of the nine floors were gone, wrecked down to holed catwalks crisscrossing above me. And the ground floor, my floor, reminded me of a child’s game I think I used to play. Ever hear of The Floor Is Lava?

This was almost the case.

A rocky patch remained in the center, a patch that held solid gold blocks and an unopened chest. And why didn’t I rush over to grab the gold and open the chest?

Well, that had a lot to do with the spawner hanging from a catwalk above the island. A spawner that created magma cubes!

“Okay then,” I said as the first bouncy blob sloshed down before me. “I’ll just be leaving.”

And as if I needed any more reason to do so, the arrow that landed between my feet showed me that these hollowed-out floors were still crawling with piglins and skeletons.

I didn’t say something dumb like “How could this get any worse,” but I might as well have. Soon as I turned back for the front door, I found the way blocked by the original approaching piglins. What had happened to Summer? Was she still trying to get in the way of the others? How many more were behind these?

They can’t all get me, I thought, mind racing, weapons raised. Narrow hall, one at a time. I can take ’em!

Turns out I didn’t have to! At ten blocks away, something made them all turn and head in the other direction.

“Wait, where are you going?” I almost said, right before I saw Summer’s arrow sticking out of one brute’s back.

Handy tidbit regarding those golden helmets: Their disguise only works until you attack the piglins. I’m not sure if somehow they realize who you really are or if they just don’t care. Point is, once you attack, the jig is up.

I rushed out of the bastion to see my battle buddy already making a run for it. She had a decent head start on the pursuing pork. That was the good news. The bad news was that the slowing soul sand allowed them to devour the distance!

Yes, once they got stuck in it as well, they were as snail-paced as her. But from where I was standing, I could see that little bit of open space between them closing.

What to do? How to help?

A plan was forming—not fully formed, mind you—as I reached for the crossbow in my belt. Unlike a traditional bow, this weapon had to be cocked back all the way. But also unlike a bow, cocking it meant locking it. Which meant I didn’t have to strain when lining up the perfect shot!

Thk!

Then…

“Krhrorrr!”

They all turned, including Summer.

“Just keep goin’!” I called over the approaching gang. “I’ll meet you at the path!”

I think she shouted something like, “How are you going to do that?” but not only couldn’t I hear her over the cacophony of snorts, I wouldn’t have had an answer for her anyway. Again, a half-formulated plan.

Phase one was pretty well devised, though, and that was how to stop the oncoming threat. It had to do with how soul sand burned, and with the worn flint and steel in my pack.

You guessed it—a barrier of blue flame.

Running along the edge of the brownish, wavy sand, I set each square alight until the C-shaped tool finally clinked out of existence.

“Yeah, that’s right!” I taunted, as the snarling, grunting group halted at the whitish blue line. “What ya gonna do? Huh? What ya gonna do?”

I got my answer with a crossbow arrow in the chest.

“Message received,” I oofed, then backed up into the “safety” of the ruins.

That was right about the time I realized, too late, that going through the infested bastion was the only clear way to join Summer.

“Me and my grand plans,” I griped, retreating through the black brick hallway.

I made it back to the lava, came face-to-face with a piglin brute, and chopped him backward into the flaming floor. Then I confronted the real challenge.

If you found the book I left on the island, you’ll recall how, when my first house was burning down, the only way to stop the lava from my tub was to release the glass-enclosed water above it. And if you haven’t read it, now you know. Anyway, to do that, I had to try to lay some dirt “stepping-stones” across the flowing fire. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it all the way and nearly burned alive—a lesson that is now burned into my brain for all time.

And here I was again, only this time the dirt was black stone, and there seemed to be just enough cubes to maybe, maybe, hop to the central island and over to the other side.

“No way,” I huffed, then turned back to hopefully find a staircase up to another floor.

“Hhrrurrhh!” More piglins from the top floor, making their way down toward me.

I took a half-step back and a deep, possibly last, breath and leapt onto the first stone.

Made it!

Only six more to go.

Thk! An arrow in my shoulder, almost knocking me into the lava. A skeleton on the catwalk above, daring me to shoot back.

I cocked the crossbow and took aim, but had to quickly raise my shield to deflect its next blow, before I gave back what I’d just been given. As the skeleton toppled down for a burn bath, I hopped to the second block, then the third. Fourth. Fifth. I almost skidded off the sixth one, then braced myself for the jump to the island.

I landed hard just as a hopping magma cube landed on me. I swung upward, chopped it back into several smaller cubes, then ran to the chest to see if there was anything I could use. I found four blocks of gold, three of iron, and a diamond pickaxe that glowed with the same mysterious light I’d seen on some of the zombie pigmen’s weapons.

The tool tingled in my hand, as if it was electrified. And when I reached up to smash the hanging spawner, it disintegrated the target in just one swipe.

“Whoa,” I breathed, slipping this amazing, magical tool in my belt…

…right next to the fireproof potion.

Which I’d forgotten I had!

Which I didn’t need anymore!

Because I could now see that this side of the little island was connected to the other side by a black stone bridge. I ran across quickly and discovered that it ended against a solid wall. But that wouldn’t stop me. I attacked it with the shimmering pickaxe.

It had to be magic. There was no other explanation. It went through the various materials almost like they weren’t there.

I burst out of the bastion and onto ground that felt firmer and easier to run on than soul sand, and my heart leapt at the sight of a distant, quartz cube.

“Summer!” I shouted, running toward her with my new prize held aloft. “Look what I found!”

“Lovely,” she answered as I ran, panting, up beside her. “You can tell me all about it on the way.”

“Don’t you realize what this means?” I wheezed, as we booked it down the quartz cube path. “Magic items exist in this world! That means we can figure out how to do it ourselves! How to…magicify…other tools and weapons and—”

“And we won’t get a chance to do any of that,” Summer wheezed back, “if we don’t get to the ruddy portal.”

In the distance, across the plains, there was a purple glow. “And there it is!” I shouted.

Salvation.

Home.

“Wehwehwoowoo.”

We halted, aghast, as a ghast rose up slowly behind the portal.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me!” I raged as the screeching bomber fired.

“Here we go again.” Summer, calm once more, casually sidestepping the explosive shell.

The ghast floated over the portal, closing in on our position.

“Try to distract it!” called Summer as she nocked an arrow to her bowstring.

It flew. Hit, but didn’t do enough damage to kill.

“Gordon Bennett,” she grunted. “Didn’t draw back far enough.”

“No problem, partner!” I cocked my crossbow, took careful aim. We shot at the same time, and, believe you me, I’d love to take credit for what happened next. Our shots met, in midair!

“Woo!” I cheered as the cannonball turned back for its living launcher.

It missed, unfortunately, but the brief respite allowed me to nock another arrow—my last arrow—into place. The ghast was moving away, forcing me to angle high.

“Bing, bang, boom,” I whispered, and sent my sharp shaft soaring.

Up and toward its target…and down…down…right into the face of a pig zombie!

Oops?

As a group, they all turned toward us.

Summer glanced at me, sighed, then turned back to the oncoming horde and shouted, “Charge!”

Running, weapons up, we crashed into them with a rousing roar. A storm of blades and blows. Shields, armor, flesh. Cries of pain and the stink of burnt bacon in my nose.

Too many, pushing us back, blocking the way.

“Brrreee!”

The explosion threw me forward, and I landed in a pile of hovering debris.

“Guy! It’s open!” Summer’s voice from behind, pointing my eyes ahead.

The portal, so close. And clear all the way!

“Go!”

Up and running, eyes fixed on bouncing purple.

Just a few more steps!

“Brrreee!”

The explosion, behind me, throwing me into the gate.

Nausea, blindness.

Gray stone!

Clean cool air!

“Summer!” I turned, “We made—”

An axe swiping for my face.

A piglin brute?! It must’ve followed me through the gate!

Another strike, blocked by my shield, shoving me back out of the portal chamber and into the garden. Too far to hit the iron door lock. Another strike, another step backward. This time I countered with a sword slash, feeling the impact. I retreated a few steps, giving myself more room to swing.

And those few paces apart allowed me to see that something was wrong with my attacker. It was shaking…and whimpering? Was it in pain? Something beyond my blow?

“Hey,” I said, forgetting who I was talking to, “you okay?”

My answer was a raised axe.

I took the blow, ready to hit back…but didn’t realize I was standing just at the edge of the pond. I fell in, and a familiar thought leapt into my head.

Drowning!

Summer had warned me. The lava cubes underneath! The bubbles wouldn’t let me swim! Trapped on the bottom, feet scalding, lungs choked by boiling water.

Reaching for the edge. Too high!

Hands to the side, digging out steps. Climbing. Hacking. Bracing for another blow.

It never came.

The porcine brawler didn’t move.

I was just in time to see the last of the purple bubbles pop over its now rotted face. And I suddenly realized that what I thought had been the shaking pain was actually a transformation.

“Summer, look,” I chuckled, stepping right into its stinking face. “The surface world zombifies piglins! Summer?”

She wasn’t there. She hadn’t made it through the portal!

“Summer!”

Back into the swirl, ready to rush to her aid.

Stop!

I teetered at the edge of the floating island. That last ghast had blown away the narrow netherrack bridge!

And on the other side…

“Guy!”

Summer, fighting for her life, surrounded by zombie pigmen!

“I’m comin’, buddy!” Backing up to jump.

Running, leaping…

Falling!

Lava!

Think!

Potion!

The fireproof elixir, from belt to hand to lips just as I hit the orange agony.

For a moment, I was blind and burning. Then…nothing!

That’s right. Nothing.

Underwater, or, more accurately, underlava. Still unable to see anything but magma. But I wasn’t burning anymore. I was okay!

Summer!

Swimming for the surface, popping up to see the cliff rising high above.

I could hear her, as well as the snorts of the zombified piglins attacking her.

“Summer!” I called, swimming for the bank. How to get up?

My new super-pickaxe!

It devoured netherrack with blinding speed. I was almost up when the blocks fell away to more lava!

Don’t panic!

I dove in and swam up. The potion was still working as I rose to the lava pocket’s roof. How long did I have? How long before the protection wore off?

Into the crunchy ceiling. Digging, climbing.

I burst up right in the middle of them, swinging my pickaxe like a madman!

“You all right?!” asked Summer, chopping at the closest undead face. “That nasty spill you took…”

“I meant what I said.” Fighting behind her, the comfort of my back against hers. “I will never leave you again!”

Swinging for the nearest Z-pig, knocking it aside and opening a clear path to the portal.

“C’mon!” I called. “You first this time!”

Guarding our escape, I made sure that Summer got safely to the edge.

“Guy…” she started.

“No problem!” I backed up again. “There’s more room to pick up speed! We can jump farther than I could from the other side!”

“Wehwehwoowoo!”

Behind, the pig pack, opening up to shoot.

“Jump!” I called. “We can make it!”

The sound of an incoming ghast missile.

“I’m not sure we—”

The piglins were closing in.

“JUMP!”