Gameknight slowly woke, his mind foggy, as if reality had somehow merged itself with his fading dream, but what had he been dreaming?. . . Something about a battle . . . or had that been real?. . . He remembered something loud and bright, with creatures floating all around him, each disappearing with a pop and leaving behind glowing balls of light, the colorful spheres flowing into him as if pushed by a mighty tornado, the swirling colors followed by calm, sweet darkness. And then he woke here, but where was here?
Looking around, Gameknight saw blocky trees in the distance, their square leaves swaying in the breeze—and cows, lots of cows, each one identical in form and color, their square heads and rectangular bodies fitting in somehow with the terrain.
Minecraft . . . he was still in Minecraft. He sighed. Memories flowed through his mind: the battle with the mobs, Erebus, Shawny and the users, Crafter . . . oh no, Crafter. The image of Crafter’s death replayed itself in his head over and over again until he felt a tear start to trickle down his face, his soul filled with an overwhelming sadness. He missed his NPC friend.
Standing, Gameknight999 surveyed the area, trying to push the sadness deep down in his soul. Looking around, he saw that he was amidst low rolling hills that were sparsely decorated with oak trees, their mottled bark standing out against the vibrant green grass, the occasional red and yellow flower adding a dash of extra color to the scene. Yep, he was definitely still in Minecraft; he hadn’t disconnected. Well, at least he wasn’t dead, that had to be on the plus side, but Crafter . . . he dearly missed his friend . . . his smile . . . his humming . . . his joy for life. . .
“CRAFTER, YOU DIDN’T DIE IN VAIN!” Game-knight said at the top of his lungs for all to hear, though there was no one in sight. “WE WON THE BATTLE AND SAVED YOUR WORLD.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” a high-pitched voice said in the distance.
Turning toward the voice, Gameknight saw a young boy, a villager, with hands locked across his chest approaching.
“What?” he asked.
“I said, that’s good to know,” the young boy replied as he approached.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you know who I am?”
“What do you mean?” Gameknight asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”
The boy was short, at least half his height, with long blond hair reaching down to his shoulders. His blocky face was fair in complexion with a gentle smile and a long dark unibrow that spanned his face, standing out in contrast to his dazzling blue eyes. They reminded him of the sky in Minecraft, bright and pure.
“It’s me, Crafter,” the young villager said, a smile stretching across his face.
“Crafter?”
The young boy nodded.
Gameknight looked at him, confused.
“Here, put your hand on my shoulder,” he explained, “and close your eyes. Good. Now reach out with your mind and listen to my voice, not with your ears, but with your entire being, with every part of your body.”
Gameknight strained to listen, not sure what he was supposed to do.
A cow mooed in the distance.
“No, relax and listen.”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Gameknight opened all of his senses and listened, really listened—not with his ears, but with his entire being. He could hear the terrain around him, the soil and trees and cows and pigs, all of them ringing with a kind of dissonance that sounded a little like glass scraping against glass to create music. They were harsh and strained tones fighting against each other; it made his teeth hurt. And then the young boy started to hum a soft melody, the harmonious tones filled with peace, tranquility, and a love of life. Crafter . . . he could see Crafter in his mind . . . it was him . . . IT WAS HIM!
“CRAFTER!!!” he yelled, wrapping his arms around his little companion and squeezing tight.
“Easy, easy, I’ve died once today, I’d rather not do it again.”
Gameknight laughed and released his friend.
“You’re here . . . but what happened? Where is here?”
“We’ve moved to the next server, closer to the Source,” Crafter explained.
It was strange seeing the young boy before him, but still imagining his grey-haired companion in his mind.
“But how?”
“All of the XP that I absorbed after detonating the creepers on the bridge allowed me to cross over,” Crafter explained. “I suspect something like that must have happened to you as well.”
He looked at Gameknight with a questioning look, wanting to hear what had happened.
“Ah . . . well, I detonated the TNT under the island because the redstone was ruined, like on the bridge. I guess all that XP flowed into me as well.” Gameknight held out his arms and looked down at them, their blocky shape looking the same as before, but he felt somehow different. “I guess I’m still in Minecraft and didn’t get free.”
“So you finally did something just to help others—interesting. Maybe you’ve grown a little, an unexpected outcome,” his friend said playfully.
“Yeah, I guess,” he replied, a little embarrassed, “but why does this feel so funny? Like something’s wrong. I can’t figure it out, can’t describe it other than something is wrong.”
“Minecraft is still under attack.”
“But I thought we stopped the attack,” Game-knight said, confused. “We defeated the mobs and destroyed Erebus.”
“That’s true,” Crafter replied, “but that was only one server. There are many servers leading to this plane, just like there are many on this plane leading to the next. We stopped the invasion on my server, but others must have gotten through. What you’re feeling is all the mobs that crossed over and are now attacking this server, trying to get to the Source.”
Gameknight closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, feeling for the fabric of Minecraft, the digital mechanism that was working behind the scene, creating everything that he could see, and then he felt it, like a bent gear in a motor or a wheel out of balance. The entire mechanism of Minecraft was off-kilter, twisted and disfigured in some indescribable way; he could feel it as clearly as he could feel the presence of Crafter.
“The battle isn’t over,” Crafter said, his high-pitched voice mixing with the mooing of the nearby cows. “In fact, it’s just beginning, and we have to see this through to the end.”
“Agreed,” Gameknight replied, “but what now?”
“We find a village and start marshaling our forces. I can feel that the battle here will not be fought in the Overworld, but somewhere else. It’s not quite clear, but we have to get started. We’re already behind.”
“Then let’s go,” Gameknight said, patting his friend on the shoulder.
“Pick a direction.”
Seeing a rocky mountain just barely visible in the distance, Gameknight chose his direction and started walking, his friend at his side, fear and trepidation nibbling at his soul. The last battle had been bad enough, could they survive this next one? He could still feel the hatred in Erebus as the monster had expired, but this world, somehow, seemed to contain much more, so much more. Trying to shake his fear away, he focused on the mountains in the distance. Squaring his shoulders, Gameknight999 and Crafter continued into the unknown, their fate, and the fate of all on this server, teetering on the edge of a knife.
The End?