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“Joey! Quick! There has been a discovery!” Böshtok claims with such vibrant energy.

“Hold your horses, I’m coming. What’s up?”

“A stronghold,” he states, much to my surprise. “There is a stronghold under the island.”

Oh boy – this is not good news. A second stronghold? Underneath the island this whole time??

Indeed, as I followed this lead, it’s true that a stronghold – or rather, the only small piece of it with an end portal – had been lurking underneath the island. And I never knew it.

“What does this mean?” asks Staz, who is more curious than anxious.

“I don’t know…” Böshtok implies, but in reality he does know.

“Could it be? That the legend of the sky dimension is true?” asks Staz, who is now borderline excited.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I intervene. This curiosity must be put to rest. I don’t like that a second stronghold with an active portal to Enderquin is resting underneath my home. And I really don’t like that these villagers found it.

“Joey, there is other news you should know about…” Böshtok continues, but he doesn’t sound happy. “A message arrived here last night, from beyond.”

“Oh? What exactly does that mean?”

“A wandering trader arrived with a message – he said it was for you.”

“Well don’t leave me hanging. What did he say?”

“He said, and I quote, that ‘the walls of your guilt will find closure in the aftermath,’ whatever that means.”

“Huh… interesting…”

I left the village for now, contemplating this message. What does it mean? And who sent it? One thing seems to be for certain: I might find the answer at Aftermath.

My return to the old base is a nostalgia trip in many ways, because it has been a while since I was last here. That’s when I remembered that the guardian farm, in fact, was never fully completed.

While I awaited an answer to that message, I figured I could get to work on finishing this project, once and for all.

The guardian farm has two modes – one that sends the guardians to the Nether to die, and another that keeps them in the Overworld… to die. The problem is that somewhere in the updates, guardians no longer fall through lava all that fast, and so the farm doesn’t even work anymore.

It also never had a proper XP mode installed, which was always intended (this is what the second mode was supposed to entail).

Both problems needed to be solved today.

Campfires would be used to kill the guardians automatically on the Nether side. All that needs to be done here is installing a huge item sorter and storage system.

It is not cheap, but it is necessary. This farm works extremely fast, even though the design is quite old now (recall that the farm was first built in 2016 – right at the start of Season 3).

In fact, I’m putting sorters on both sides. This way, it will take a long time before the chests reach capacity.

Very good – now, I need an area for storing the finished prismarine block types, including sea lanterns.

^ This small space in the back, overlooking the large lava lake, will be perfect for that.

Wondrous! Now, I’ll let the farm work for a while. I have been consistently running out of sea lanterns, which have become a principal lighting source throughout my builds as of late. The timing therefore could not be better to get this farm back up and running.

Next, we need to deal with the fact that the whole Overworld section of the farm no longer works. Since the guardians die in lava before reaching the bottom, that means there is no longer a use for this storage area at all.

After thinking quite considerably about this, I realized two things:

• We already have the automated farm working quite well. Guardians getting sent to the Nether die immediately, and the items are sorted efficiently. I don’t need another version of that in the Overworld. Instead…
• I want the ability to use this farm as an efficient XP farm as well. The gold farm works great, and I love it, but it isn’t always the most accessible farm unless we are at Starlight. Even then, it requires heading to the treehouse and furthermore up into the Nether sky to access. As no other XP farm currently compares to it, I need to start building new quality XP sources.

The second mode, therefore, will be the XP mode of the farm. And this will take some considerable preparation.

First, to maximize efficiency, I need the collection point to be quite a way out from the farm itself.

This is because I will also be utilizing Nether portals for this mode, such that in the XP mode, guardians will be sent into the Nether, and subsequently back out, at the new collection point here in the sky.

To make this happen, I need to build about 190 blocks high, well above the Nether roof, where I will create a containment chamber for the guardians.

I am building an automatic timer which will start the moment guardians enter the holding container. It will hold guardians there for a few minutes in the scaffolding, before releasing them back through the same portal by way of fence gates. Except that this same portal will actually take them to the new collection area in the sky, which you can see above.

From here, the guardians will fall down a large tower, such that they will become one-hit kills in the collection area.

Why are we sending them to the Nether in this way? It’s to maximize spawning. The goal is to get guardians out of the Overworld as fast as possible so that new ones can continue to spawn. This means that the collection area would potentially build up more guardians than are technically allowed to spawn by rules of the Overworld spawning.

Next challenge… getting them out of the Overworld.

To get the guardians into the holding container I built in the Nether, without interfering with the already-existing Nether portal directly underneath (for the automated version of the farm), I need to send them way up into the sky.

To do this, they will funnel past the portal on the ground floor (which will be turned ‘off’ in the farm’s XP mode). Here, I am building a glass tube that will rise far beyond the current height of the farm.

Using kelp, I can create water source blocks all the way up the tower. This will then allow a bubble column to be created, which will shoot guardians to the top very quickly.

^ Here, you can see the portal they will be sent into (on the right). This portal sends them to the holding chamber in the Nether. After a few minutes, those guardians will be sent back through the same portal, but instead of exiting here, they will exit at the collection area just southeast of here (pictured on the left), where they will be killed.

Now we test the system.

So far so good, but there are bottlenecks.

^ Here, you can see that the farm is in XP mode. The ground floor portal is turned off, allowing the guardians to enter the glass tower into the XP area.

I fixed the bottlenecks for the most part – guardians love resisting the flow of water, so I have learned.

This is working… very well.

One primary issue, though – the collection area is a bit too far from the spawning spaces. Because this farm utilizes a somewhat older design, it relies on the guardians actually swimming into the system itself – there are no bubble columns used in this design. This means I cannot be so far away that they won’t move.

^ The sweet spot, I have found, is actually way below the original collection area. The next platform is built on the bottom. I now need to move the entire killing chamber to this spot.

Doing so also means that I need to redirect the guardians without them taking damage. I’m not moving the portal at all.

This is much better – the rates of the farm have already improved drastically.

I have noticed very slight bottlenecks here, but nothing of great concern. Guardians tend to push each other through to the killing area, anyway.

The terrain is ugly, and these new linear glass towers are also ugly, but that’s not an issue I have the resources to fix today. Functionality first – then I’ll deal with how it looks.

I have a nice little enchanting area up here now, just floating in the middle of the sky. Currently, the only way to get here is by way of elytra. This is not something I intend to change in the immediate future, mostly because doing so correctly would involve building a giant skyscraper right here – to cover all this up.

Well, that’s all done, and the guardian farm now gives the Gold Grinder some worthy competition! The renewed production of prismarine materials means that my sea lantern supply can start to grow at a steady rate. This is great news indeed and makes me glad to have come here today. But that begs the question… is somebody waiting for me here?

Hmm, there is nothing here out of the ordinary, so I’ll just head back to the Inner Circle and claim that the message was bogus.

Wait…

“Joey_San, welcome to the aftermath.”

Huh? What is this strange-looking villager?

“Who are you?” I ask curiously. “Why do you block my exit?”

“This is no exit, Joey_San. It is an entrance. Always has been,” speaks the strange illusioner.

“Okay, so are you responsible for the message you had sent through the wandering trader?”

“Remember what I always told you?”

“That it is your choices which would lead to your ultimate demise?”

“You refuse to listen, even after I have given you every opportunity to surrender.”

What is this sorcery?? I have not seen powers like this before! “You’re still in my head! Get out of my head! This isn’t real!!”

“Oh, my dear Joey_San, you have no idea what’s real. I want you to remember that I said that.

Best regards,

Violet.”

This session is told through the perspective of Violet following the events of Sessions 249-250, and references a number of other important events that occurred throughout Season 3.

You always said that you would protect me. Ever since that day you found me in the jungle. And I was naïve to believe it. I told you that death and destruction would come, but you chose to dismiss my visions as paranoia. Now look at where we are.

I still remember when I woke up. After you led me to death. It was cold, and eerie. A world yet undiscovered.

You left me there. You left us all there.

I began to explore this barren place. Death had eluded me many times before; it’s as if someone of a higher power did not want me to die. As though my work here was not done.

My journey stagnated on the yellow brick island upon which you first slew the dragon – you destroyed the Enderquin you always proclaimed you would.

Well, if it isn’t fate that brought us back together, then perhaps it is something more powerful.

Something more meaningful.

The mind is a fragile prison. Trying to break out is akin to chewing away in a bedrock cellar, locked in the deep dark with no promise of ever seeing the outside world again. Wherein your only hope resides in absolution by way of the benevolent gods.

That’s when I realized – it wasn’t an eternity of sorrow that had been bestowed upon me. Death was the end of a chapter, not the book.

Voices began to creep into my conscience the same way they did when I was alive, with the prime exception being that my conscience had been vacated of my own volition. This is the way of the afterlife.

There is a particular curiosity in the colors of this realm. Violet seems to be Enderquin’s hue of choice. I never believed much in coincidence; however, death has given me many new concepts upon which to consider.

The voices guided me with newfound tools and abilities. Death meant that my human form had been transcended. Perhaps this is the ascension that legend would speak of – the ascension you, yourself, tried so hard to acquire.

Metamorphosis is always a messy process. The voices and I eventually became one, but not without setbacks. Although time is the ultimate enemy of us all, equally is it also the supreme healer of all wounds – at least, the ones that do not kill us.

However, time had also become a factor in brokering our reunion. I needed to regain strength.

You had inspired me in many ways to look after myself. You taught me the importance of survival, especially in an environment that constantly seeks to destroy you. You should be proud of what I created.

My machine, quite effortlessly, provided me the sustenance I needed to rebuild my strength. The endermen and I are one mind after all – you figured that one out, remember?

I will admit – you had me on the edge of my seat when you killed my theatrical form. I always figured it would be amusing to illustrate a dragon reigning upon its own island – a metaphor, of course, in which the island represents Quintropolis.

But there was a slight flaw in your plan to attack me in my home turf.

You forgot that everything you possessed was provided to you, by me. Including your arrogance.

You are not a god, and therefore you are not capable of destroying one. It is like a small insect trying so desperately to attack the sun because it is too hot. Again, a metaphor, in which I am the sun, and you are the insect.

I alone built this world, ages ago, long before you and your friends came to be. I fought for this world, protected this world, molded this world – all the while my fellow gods despised me, simply because they were not given precious dimensions of their own.

In this way, you are very much like the other gods. Jealousy ran through them like blood. It infuriated them knowing that one of their own had been blessed. They could not simply accept that Sentien had chosen me as his heir.

Instead of showing support, they chose to fight me. But they made one critical mistake in this decision. They came to my home, my dimension – just like you. And just like them, you underestimate the power I hold. Power that was granted to me by Sentien.

I promised you that a day of reckoning was coming to Quintropolis. Now, I make good on that promise. Violet did her best to warn you – but like my brethren, you could not simply allow nature to run its course. This is the way things are meant to be.

I gave you a chance to turn things around, and all you have done is lead your villages by fear. What kind of leader is that? Now I have no choice but to reshape this world into something new. Something meaningful.

By my hand, you are now cast into the realm of fire, where you shall remain until my work is done. I enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse, and I’ll let you ponder who is who in this metaphor. It’s all you will be able to do, since by my hand you will not be permitted to leave the realm of fire.

Quintropolis might be the world in which you live, but it does not belong to you. It belongs to me, as it always has.

Come on! Why is the portal not lighting?? This goes against all the laws of nature!

I don’t know how I neglected to see this coming. Of course, my worst nightmare would come to pass, and now I get to live through another one. In the Nether of all places. It’s almost like things have gone full circle in an ironic fashion. I started this season escaping into the Nether, and now as things come to an end, I need to escape from this place. Only this time, the rules I have come to learn will not work.

Enderquin, now patrolling from Violet’s heavily mutated corpse, has locked me into this dimension while he takes over mine. This is, by every measure, an absolute nightmare. The Inner Circle is left helpless, with nobody to guide them or protect them. Starlight City has no idea what is coming. Even I don’t really have a clue what Enderquin’s plan is. Nobody does. I have failed them.

All of the portals are deactivated. I can’t light any of them.

I don’t really know what to do, so I’m just going to do what I do best: react.

I’ll set up a basecamp a bit south of the Utopia portal. If there is one thing I have always been good at, it’s adapting to circumstances that take me by surprise. I might be under a curse, but that means there is some cure or some way to remove it and get me out of here.

As far as I know, the curse is limited to me. But then, if that’s true, then how would Enderquin be able to turn off all the portals? Is this only happening from my perspective? This is to say – can other creatures still enter/exit Nether portals? Knowing this fact will help me determine whether I can feasibly escape.

To orchestrate this science experiment, I am going to first build a basecamp here at the lava beach.

We will call it Brimstone Beach, because it’s hell, and I’ll decorate it with granite and coal blocks.

Starting from the Utopia portal, I will construct a bridge across the lava lake to access the beach. Thankfully, I have my ender chest with me, which gives me access to a ton of resources. If I didn’t have it on me, I would be completely helpless even more so.

I also have the Blaze Blaster, which doesn’t work all that well anymore, but there is a ton of redstone storage here.

Ghasts will be the bane of my existence as they have always been, but they will be key to testing this experiment.

I’ll keep the magma blocks as they add to the theme of the beach. It’s hot.

Brimstone Beach is a basecamp for a project I am going to setup that will act as a science experiment positing the question: if I cannot light and enter portals myself, then can others? If it’s true that they can, then perhaps my escape from the Nether can be propelled with the manipulation of certain creatures, i.e., ghasts, to light the portals for me.

I am also collecting generous amounts of glowstone and quartz, because why not? I have nothing else to collect here, and quartz mining is a far better experience farm than the Blaze Blaster right now… oh wait, I forgot I still have access to the Gold Grinder. That’s a plus in case I run out of food.

Speaking of the Blaze Blaster, let’s see what we can do to fix it.

The main problem is that it simply doesn’t work as fast as it used to – somewhere in the update evolution, I guess the minecart-based system used to transport blaze failed to work as efficiently. I really don’t know what else to conclude.

First thing that we can do is to remove all that nonsense. This also means that the Blaze Blaster’s signature feature – the central killing tube – is no longer useful. That’s a shame because it looked cool.

There is an interesting mechanical behavior with blaze in which they will be drawn towards solid blocks, and away from transparent blocks like glass. This mechanic will be used as the basis for the Blaze Blaster’s new design.

A lot of deadweight exists to clean out, including a ton of wiring above the Blaze Blaster itself – the original crusher mechanism used to run automatically.

From what I am seeing, this mechanic is not all too efficient, but that may be due to the fact that the Blaze Blaster is well enclosed by solid blocks. Let’s see about clearing the area around it and replacing the walls with glass.

Aha, so it seems that they do tend to gravitate towards the closest solid blocks – in this case, that will be the railway that runs alongside it. I do wonder if that should be torn out completely and moved elsewhere.

I am clearing a lot of space around the new Blaze Blaster so that I can better observe their behavior. To be honest, at its current state, it seems to be hit or miss.

My goal is to attract them into the killing chamber using a magma block.

Underneath the blaster, I am building a new collection area, which will now automatically collect blaze rods – this is new.

There does seem to be more extensive work required in order to deal with the large array of solid blocks all around the farm, but I think it can be done.

For right now, though, time is of the essence, and I need to prepare the first test to see if it will get me out of here.

Okay, I am building two giant portal frames in the open area. The goal will be to lure a ghast fireball here so that they can light it.

Waiting and waiting…

There we go – let’s see if it works!

And… it didn’t work.

It didn’t work again.

Third time’s a charm, right?

Wrong. The portal does not light. That means Enderquin’s curse does not just affect me. It affects everyone, meaning that I will not be able to escape this place through a traditional portal.

This is detrimental news, and leads me to believe there is only one way out…

Through death.

Except… I cannot die. Enderquin must have granted me eternal fire resistance, such that not only am I trapped inside a hellish dimension where I do feel pain, but that pain will never put me to rest, because I cannot use death to respawn out of here.

Please let me die! I am bathing in a lava ocean while a ghast continues hurling fireballs at me. The pain is excruciating. This is a nightmare.

PLEASE, Enderquin, let me die. Or wake up. Is this real? I don’t even know.

All I know is that I have lost.

In ancient Quintropolis lore, there is a story about a villager who once theorized that the boundary between worlds was built out of bedrock. He suggested that by finding a way to break through the mysterious bedrock layer, that one could find their way into the Netherworld. Of course, this was just an ancient legend, as we now know there is nothing above the Nether’s bedrock layer… but what about below it? Even if it’s true that there is nothing but void underneath, that should still be able to kill me and cause me to return into the Overworld. After all, Enderquin has made me fireproof, blast resistant, and effectively unable to kill myself… but nothing survives the Void, and there is no evidence to suggest that Enderquin has any power down there.

I had a new theory regarding why the portals did not light. Enderquin specifically said that I would not be allowed to leave the Nether “until his work was done.” He made no direct mention of the portals. He did not say “you will not be able to light any portals” or something that would infer they could be lit by other means.

In trying to understand the supernatural nature of the curse, I realize it may not be as simple as trying to get one of the portal frames lit. I believe this is a byproduct of the curse, and the actual source of the curse lives inside of me. After all, there are only two ways that Enderquin could patrol this power here: (1) the curse self-sustains itself, and is therefore by itself a living entity, or (2) he is actively in this dimension also, controlling it himself.

If it’s the second option, then I really would not have any options for defeating this madness. I would have to accept my defeat. But in the event of the first option, there would theoretically be a way to destroy the curse just as you would a mob or some other living entity. I believe this is the reality of the curse – its power may stem from Enderquin, but it is something else entirely. And that means it can be killed. My theory is: if nothing survives the Void, then maybe it can kill Enderquin’s curse, too.

It’s a risky theory, because if I manage to break the bedrock, and the Void doesn’t kill me, then I could possibly remain stuck falling for eternity. But desperate times call for desperate measures, because if this doesn’t work, then I’m worried nothing else will.

I am going to first create a machine that will charge lava down to the bedrock – this will not be used to destroy the bedrock itself, but it will be held on standby to drown the area in lava once we’re done, covering everything up. I don’t really know what to expect, so I’m erring on the side of caution with this plan.

^ Here, I have chosen a location far above the Nether islands, and quite a way out from Brimstone Beach, where I will be constructing a launch chamber that will be used for the lava cannon.

Doing so lodged into the Nether roof is ultimately the safest location given the destructive nature of these mechanisms, and it greatly reduces the risk of becoming victim to the lava.

To get up here, I need to build a hallway that will extend far enough away from the launch chamber.

The launch chamber itself will be outfitted with bright blocks, most notably iron, to make it easy to spot. The way it will work is that TNT will be dropped first through the chamber to clear the area, and this will be followed by lava to drown it all. The bedrock I intend to remove will be located directly underneath this chamber.

The vertical lift into the chamber will also be outfitted with iron blocks – again for ease of visibility.

As you can see, the actual entrance into the chamber is well enough away from where I would be launching TNT.

^ Here are the dispensers, which will be connected to a pulse clock that will drop them one by one (or five by five).

Activating this machine is not to be done by accident, and so there will be three locks that must be enabled to engage it.

From here, I am now going down to bedrock to build the next key part of the mechanism. For this, I need a few pistons, a trapdoor, and some other things.

The ancient legend of the bedrock boundary suggested that by combining an explosion with very specific piston movement at exactly the right moment, the laws of physics would be faced with a paradoxical encounter, causing the removal of the impermeable bedrock layer. According to legend, the villager was unsuccessful with this attempt… but they also likely did not have sophisticated redstone knowledge to accomplish it.

It isn’t often that I attempt to mess with the laws of physics, because we can never truly predict the consequences of doing so. But like I said before – this is a last-ditch resort to escape the Nether.

How it works: TNT will be placed on the redstone block. When it detonates, the piston should be destroyed, except that I will be placing a new piston on the block it’s occupying at the exact moment it blows up. This will cause the world to believe the piston is still there, and it supposedly should retract, whilst the block beneath it will be removed. All in theory, so far.

Let’s give it a try.

It failed, but that’s okay… let’s test it out on a fully exposed piece of bedrock first.

Here is a good piece we will try to remove. And 3-2-1…

Also didn’t work. Hmm… maybe I’ll swap the obsidian and redstone sides.

It worked!! The bedrock disappeared and the piston did not get destroyed. I now know that it’s possible – wow.

The next step is finding bedrock at the very bottom layer, with enough space on both sides for all the blocks we have to place.

^ Here’s a good spot, but it will be a tight fit.

Here we go…

Ha, good thing I have eternal fire resistance… ironically here I would’ve been pissed if I didn’t.

After a few attempts, sometimes the piston does blow up if I don’t place the new one at exactly the right moment, so I just have to keep trying. But it worked before – it should work now.

Only one looming problem though… I’m almost out of TNT. And since sand cannot be found anywhere in the Nether, that means I need this to work before I run out completely, or I’m at a dead end.

IT KEEPS BLOWING UP!! COME ON!

Sh*t, last piece of TNT…

YES! The piston retracted and did not blow up!! Now the moment of truth to see what’s underneath…

It didn’t work.

My heart races as I settle down and stare into the deep red space of hell, subtly recognizing yet still consistently denying my utter failure. Passion and motivation mean nothing when there is no hope – a reality I am slowly beginning to swallow so sickeningly. Why is it that when I am at the top of my game, always seemingly ahead of the curve, reaching new heights, something terrible needs to push me back down the hill into the valley of death? Do I deserve this? Does my passion and heart to protect the villagers of this world mean absolutely nothing? I once believed that all gods were benevolent, that they cared for us, that they wanted to see us flourish into the best versions of ourselves. Now I realize they just want us to worship them as gods.

Are they even worth saving? The Inner Circle doesn’t even appreciate what I do for them. “Stop,” they said. “Surrender,” he says. Pfft – do they even know what I sacrificed for them? Of course not! Why would they? They’re just stupid villagers. They couldn’t tell an iron block from white wool unless you literally put them side by side.

It’s not even that hard to tell the difference. Obviously, iron is going to have a more robust texture. IT’S IRON. For God’s sake! Sometimes, I ask myself why I work so hard to save their lives from such turmoil. Perhaps it’s good that Enderquin is taking control of everything – let them see how much better that life is. Maybe then, they will worship me instead of him. Except, I never wanted to be thought of as a god. I only wanted to challenge them. I guess I am paying the price for that now.

In these moments, despite my outburst about the stupidity of the villagers, they truly were my purpose. I have nothing left to live for without them, and Enderquin knows that. Such is why he will not let me die. As long as I am down here, trapped in the underworld, I will have nothing but these thoughts to propel me beyond into darkness – reminding myself that with every passing moment, the greediest god of them all is using my passion and purpose to destroy me while he takes over my world. If he decides to let me leave, then I presume it will only be to watch whatever sick game he is playing on the canvas which is Quintropolis. Because that’s all this is for the gods – a game.

They will die; I will run a sword through their souls until every last one of them begs for mercy, and then they will understand karma. For every minute Enderquin spends in the Overworld, that’s how many times I will kill him if it means beckoning the same suffering he intends to inflict upon us. My rage has no choice but to be contained in this hell hole, but by the mercy of the other gods, should a miracle come my way – Enderquin will feel the wrath of a person up close.

OF COURSE, because timing is a b*tch, I don’t have a bow on me. How the hell do I not have one? Enderquin couldn’t have at least let me grab my bow before locking me up? Such a petty god.

At least I have access to my Gold Grinder. But even that brings me no joy. I am fueled with a compulsion to destroy, which means I should actually be far away from here.

If I could blow this entire fortress to hell, then that is exactly how I would channel my rage.

Destroying it piece by piece will have to do.

I will rip out every ounce of its nether brick, every blaze will be pulled apart, and then I’ll use those blaze rods to beat every skeleton so far into the lava, they will wish that they were not fireproof. This I will do, because I literally cannot do anything else. And that fact angers me, it terrifies me, it fills me with such unrest knowing that Quintropolis has been taken over, and there is nothing I can do about it.

If Enderquin can see me, then his twisted self is probably laughing at my misery. His plan worked, I am out of the picture, and now he can say “I told you so” like the arrogant, evil being that he is.

He wants me to fear him, but the only thing I fear right now is myself.

He gets what he wanted – to present me with my greatest fear of being unable to protect my world. Now he gets to control all of them with whatever their biggest fears are. What a way to govern your creation who was otherwise existing so peaceably.

You know what I am now considering? Enderquin is not really a god at all. It’s a plague – a depiction of disease and destruction, that looms over the world finding cracks through which it can invade and spread. All I did, in my excitement and yearning for discovery, was widen the cracks that let him through. I should have listened to Violet. That portal should never have been opened.

It is because of me that the plague has come, and every inhabitant of the Overworld will suffer directly as a result of my own interests. Mayor Sensha was right – I have no idea about anything, and this is nature’s way of reminding me that at the expense of freewill, nature will run its course. Enderquin will take that away, bend the poor villagers to his will, then control their minds with hallucinations so that they continue to obey him.

Knowing him, he will then paint the illusion that every villager is happy to be there, that their lives are perfect, and that there is nothing wrong. But underneath, in their minds and in their hearts, they will be dying. They will wish that they could, and then that will become my new purpose. To put every single one out of their misery.

And it is all my own fault, because in my ignorance I decided to open a mythological portal to a place, the consequences of which I never even considered. I am the plague, and I have failed them.

THEY WILL HATE ME.

Even if there was a world in which I managed to save them, they would never think of me as a hero. Enderquin would most assuredly make sure they knew that it was me who caused this plague upon them. There would be riots – they would believe that I am a satanic creature from hell. Which so far, would be accurate.

There exist no good outcomes of this entire scenario. Either Enderquin controls Quintropolis as he has planned, and he will keep me in hell for all eternity. Or he will eventually let me out, after he has already terrorized the Overworld, and allow me to pick up the pieces while I try to survive the onslaught of villagers who will forever try to kill me. In both cases, Enderquin wins. My purpose drains. And I can never rest.

WHERE YOU GONNA SPAWN NOW, YOU PATHETIC MISTAKES??!! Those blaze fireballs are making me angry, even though I am fireproof. Everything down here disgusts me, and if I could destroy the entire Nether, I would do that too.

Now what have I got to show for this? Anything at all? Has anyone’s life changed? It doesn’t even matter; nothing here does. This place is the bane of all that exists. With every attempt I make to get out, it reminds me how much control it has over me, and that I cannot escape. And so, all I can do is soak in the instability of whatever I choose to do to survive in its presence. This is my life now.

Now that I’ve exhausted all my destructive energy in a relatively healthy fashion, I will just run. And run. Far away from here, far from everywhere. Even though I know I cannot get out.

I will collect quartz and glowstone.

Here, I found a nice vein of some quartz here. Somewhere.

Look! Soul sand!! Let’s get some of that, too. So that I can build a Wither, or many, and never succumb to them.

Isn’t it a bit strange that there are Nether bricks so far removed from the closest fortress? And there is lava pouring down here, too.

What the hell? Am I hallucinating again? Who the hell are you?

OUCH, and what is that??!!

“It’s a wither rose. For trespassers not unlike yourself,” he, or she, or they, or it, says. I truly don’t know what is going on here.

“What… are you, exactly? Some kind of mangled human who has been living in hell for eternity?” Oh no, that sounds like me.

“Is that supposed to be insulting?” is the response I get, which again doesn’t answer my question. Not that I have much reason for existing anymore, but this kind of “guess who it is” game really pisses me off. And I’m already done with everything.

“Excuse me?”

“I said: Is that supposed to be insulting?”

“I heard you the first time – it’s just that is not what I-“

“Then why did you ask again?” Their tranquility further infuriates me, though I cannot pinpoint why. Maybe it’s because I fail to see how such calamity can beget calmness. This individual is clearly violent – I see Wither skulls everywhere.

“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, CREATURE!” I burst out. Silence follows.

“I’m sorry. That was not… I am losing my mind. I have already lost it, actually,” I admit.

“Your particular manner is intriguing,” the relaxed creature states, again bolstering an uncanny composure. It unsettles me far more than it should, I reckon.

“Please just tell me why I should care about being here right now.”

“Do you have somewhere else to be?” they ask – and I now wonder whether they already know the answer to that. “If so, then I recommend you move along.”

I think about this a moment. This creature has rarely moved an inch since I invaded their hideout and then yelled at them.

I take a minute and try to regain some dignity.

“I actually do have somewhere to be, but I cannot get there. I’m stuck here. Enderquin – he sent me here… well not HERE directly, but into the Nether, from which I have failed to find any way out. Quintropolis is now destroyed most likely, and I have spent the last several days… weeks? I don’t even know how many cycles have passed since I’ve been here! I’ve been so busy bathing in my self-loathing about how I caused the most ultimate form of destruction – violation of the mind of everything that lives – and even if I do find a way out of this wretched place, there is nothing I can do that will thwart the reign of a god who can literally make me believe I just witnessed every resident of Starlight City zombify then drown themselves, just because he wanted me to know he was alive! Therefore, I guess you could say I have nowhere else to be.”

After a moment, the calculating character formulates a response to my fragmented state of anxiety.

“Enderquin… very interesting you mention that name.”

“You know about Enderquin?”

“I met him once. He sent me here, somewhat in a similar manner to what you describe. And I have remained underneath this lava lake ever since.”

“Do you have a name?”

“I did, once. It’s been so long that I forgot it.”

“What can I call you, then?”

“Many used to call me the Chosen One.”

His answer furthers my assertion that I am in a hallucination – this cannot be real. I know all about the fabled legend of the Chosen One… and it’s an old one.

“You… you were the last to see Asevís,” I claim.

“Someone knows their history. Maybe, I can shed light on some more that might be of use to you.”

I sit down.

“Enderquin wasn’t always like this,” he claims. The Chosen One’s gentle yet slightly frail tone suggests there is quite a bit of history between the two of them. History that, unfortunately, has never been recorded in writing.

“It saddens me to see that his ways have skewed from Sentien’s intentions,” he continues.

“Who is Sentien, exactly?” It’s a name I’ve heard twice now, but never before.

“How do you not know? A young child you are, however blessed you might be, positioned to become the next Chosen One – yet you lack understanding of how nature runs its course in our precious world.”

“So, help me understand – I have been trying to find reasons for all that exists. I have nobody here to guide me. I’ve made mistakes, but all towards seeking answers.”

…also I’ll just casually skip over the fact that he stated I am destined to become his successor, whatever that actually means. The Chosen One contemplates a moment before gesturing towards the enchanting table. I point towards it, unsure of what this gesture means.

“Please, come” – he is so inviting, that I should be weary. But I join him at the table. Suddenly, he casts a charm onto me, taking me out of this world and into somewhere new. Perhaps, this is a vision, or a memory – maybe his memories.

“Before Quintropolis, there was only the Celestial Sanctum – a place of nothingness inhabited by twelve divine beings called Zaex. These twelve beings spent an eternity trying to determine the best way to express themselves to Sentien, their omnipotent ruler. In truth, they always competed to get his blessing.”

“Enderquin was always a competitive spirit. Always needed to be the best. But he fostered great care for his brothers and sisters, and never wished to see them as less than extraordinary. In fact, he is the one who proposed the notion of creating an Overworld – a place where creatures could exist and express themselves however they so choose. A place of sentient beauty – much like the leader he served.”

“In a way, the other Zaex attached themselves to the possibility of harboring corporeal forms. They began looking towards Enderquin for answers, as he had already suggested the laws of physics that would govern how the Overworld would work. Sentien took notice, and agreed that perhaps it was time for the Zaex to construct a canvas to display their natural gifts. Everything you see, and touch – everything that you are – it is because of Enderquin. He always had a vision of a universe blessed with celestial splendor, with creatures of excellent diversity and design, who would see each other and respect one another to live peaceably.”

“While most Zaex loved Enderquin’s idea, and participated rightfully in the Overworld’s original creation, not all were as brightly supportive. One of Enderquin’s brethren, Witherquin, had notorious aversion for the sky god. In fact, they regularly engaged in brawls, often trying to prove themselves as better than the other in the eyes of Sentien. As the Overworld continued to grow, so too did this jealousy. Witherquin could not accept that he would not be chosen as Sentien’s successor, and so he regularly started corrupting the Overworld with demons of his own design.”

“Sentien grew distasteful of this, stating it was not proper that the Zaex be at odds against one another. But Witherquin’s persistence caused problems among the other gods, and it threatened the Overworld as a whole. Enderquin created the endermen to shield other creatures against Witherquin, and to allow himself access to the Overworld whenever he so chooses. This was not seen as an act of bravery to Sentien, who threatened to expel both gods from the Overworld. To him, the natural environment was already threatened by their resentment for one another, and this was something he could not risk.”

“Sentien created separate dimensions for the two gods, to show them that greed has no place in the lineage of the Zaex. Enderquin was banished into a sky dimension of his own, while Witherquin was given full reign of hell itself – the place we occupy now.”

“Enderquin’s new home was once beautiful, full of life and magnificence, exactly the way he would have designed the Overworld. His greed cost him that world. But he found bountiful blessings in this new one.”

“It was once ripe with plant life, animals, gorgeous structures. We called it Paradise.”

“What do you mean, we?” I ask, interrupting his story.

“Well, I once lived in the sky dimension – after I summited the tallest peak.”

“Enderquin showed me Paradise – he was the only Zaex who offered me a place among them after what we sacrificed.”

“He showed me things I would never have even dreamt could be possible in this world. Amazing things. Sentien had blessed him with power, and I was grateful to be in the presence of such a gift.”

“But something was off about the way he presented it to me. In many ways, Enderquin treated me as his equal, much to Sentien’s dismay. Sentien knew that I was no god – I was just a man given a place among gods. Although I made clear my intentions to reach them and become like them, only Enderquin assimilated these interests among the remaining eleven Zaex who despised them.”

“As I searched Paradise, I found something which intrigued me greatly: wither skulls – the same ones you see in my cozy abode here. I postulated what such things would be doing in a place like that.”

“When I asked Enderquin about the skulls, he assured me that they existed as part of the natural landscape… but his reaction was somber, and I knew that a more pressing matter lurked beneath the surface. I sought to discover this for myself, as it became essential for me to know whether my new life in Paradise was warranted by all the sacrifices made by my people over the generations.”

“Of course, at the time I knew very little about anything, much like yourself. I tended to assume the best, and admittedly I must confess that my awareness of the rivalry between Enderquin and the other Zaex was starkly absent. It was not until I began collecting the Wither skulls that Enderquin approached me – an act that had never before been done outside the day I summited Asevís.”

“He asked why I did not listen to him, why I insisted that his declarations were incorrect regarding the skulls and their place in Paradise. He knew that I didn’t believe him, else I would not have continued pursuing their true origin. It was in this moment that I faced a glaring truth concerning my new supernatural mentor – we did not share mutual respect. In any kind of relationship, even one that is not personally forged, respect must be mutual – otherwise, there is no equality, only division. I knew that I was not a Zaex, but I admired that one could still think of me on a similar level intellectually. It gave me hope that one day, the boundary between Zaex and humans could be broken as we would learn to coexist peaceably among one another.”

“But Zaex created us, and consequently they will always see us as lesser beings. When I told Enderquin that the skulls looked remarkably similar to his brother, he showed me a side of him I hadn’t yet seen – the real one. Realizing this was a sensitive topic, I hastened to switch modes, but he didn’t let up so easily. He asked if I knew what it felt like to burn in a fire while my family and friends danced around it, laughing and pretending that I wasn’t even there. He asked if I could even fathom what it is like to work so hard, to give your entire existence to something so that your family could prosper, and then to be cast out as a result while they capitalize on what you created.”

“In truth, I did know that feeling quite well. It’s why I chose to climb Asevís. I had nothing left for me in this world. But when I started to explain that to Enderquin, he dismissed my feelings. They were not real, because I was just an artificial creation by him and his brethren. I could not possibly understand what it was like to live in a god’s world.”

“He became enraged, he tore down the illusions of Paradise – that’s when I realized that he harbored great power. None of it was real. He knew that he could not leave Paradise, so he did his best to present it exactly such that I would be in awe, worshipping him as the almighty above all others. But now he did not care, and I finally saw the desolate, ruined land that had eluded me ever since I first visited.”

“He showed me exactly who he was – a god filled with rage against his own, and that rage has persisted against all of us, because we represent them. We represent what he could never have – a family. His family locked him in a separate dimension so that they didn’t have to deal with his pride, took his idea of the Overworld, and created a new Paradise – the one that you and your family has enjoyed.”

“I understand that pain every bit, but there is nothing that will change his perception of me, and by extension you, as being a lesser creature created by those he hates. He made this very clear to me, even after I appealed to his fulsome nature, blabbering about the dedication my people harbored for wanting to reach the gods, to become like them.”

“He chose to show me exactly what happens when you try to become a god. His furious dragon form threw me out of Paradise, and into this place. He entrapped me here, and although I had built portals and stone structures across history to try getting out – it never worked. I understood that all Enderquin wanted was someone to worship him, to appreciate him. That’s why he took me in and gave me the illusion of Paradise. It was never to provide me with god-like power, or give me any sense of attainment about the sacrifices my ancestors made. Our rituals were for nothing, and much like our paranormal designers, arrogance had destroyed us all.”

I waited for a moment, processing the Chosen One’s story. To think that Enderquin’s fight has always been a savage move against his own beings – it makes sense. He and Witherquin have been locked away in two very different hellscapes, though it seems the latter has made peace with such disparity.

“How do you… how do you obstruct the reign of a god like that?”

“When you try to usurp a prideful king, it is not the king itself you are trying to conquer – it’s his arrogance, which has proven the downfall of so many. So then, if it is arrogance you seek to defeat, you must consider carefully your own strengths and weaknesses. Are you, yourself, likening to the same flaws that distinguish your enemy? Is it pride that drives you, so that you can become the king yourself? A king’s motivation can be explored, and once it is understood, it can be used against him. But I must warn you… One should not drive the last nail into the coffin if they are not privy to the matters which got them there.”

It's a heavy statement, and I know that the Chosen One is thinking cautiously about what information to share with me. He knows that my heart is currently resting in the same rage that got Enderquin where he is now, so I must ask myself whether that rage ought to define me and my actions. Those things I said about the villagers – I said them because I was angry, but does that automatically make them justified and otherwise untrue statements? We often claim that we say things we don’t mean in anger, but perhaps it’s the other way around – that we tend to say exactly what we mean, and we are too fueled by emotion to care what others might make of it.

I channel these considerations and attempt to make some more sense of my situation as I prepare to think about how to move forward.

“You say that you were entangled in this place much as I was… How do you know that Enderquin is not watching you right now? If he can control your ability to access or not access other dimensions, who is to say that he does not have power beyond his own home?”

“Enderquin operates where his spirit lives, which might be in Paradise – it may very well be in the Overworld currently. But he has no power here, because his spirit is not allowed in this realm.”

“How is he not allowed here? What stops him?”

“Where do you think you are right now?” The Chosen One gives me a dumbfounded look, as though I missed that whole section of his story. “Enderquin cannot get here because Witherquin does not allow it. Frankly, your best chance at finding a way out, is to ask Witherquin yourself.”

“Tell me how to do that.”

The Chosen One eyes me partly with suspicion, and partly with fear, knowing that’s a path that may be catastrophic. But he knows I am willing to do whatever it takes.

“You’ll need to learn how his spawning rules work here.”

“You’ll have to find a way to control his creatures, confine them into a single space.”

“You’ll have to remove their freedom, take away their ability to wage war with you, or with one another.”

“And even after all that, it won’t be enough.”

“You’ll be required to awaken Witherquin from his slumber.”

“Ask him to set you free, lest he cannot kill you directly.”

“Show him that you have control of his world. If you want him to take you seriously, you need to match his level of aggression.”

“One demon won’t be enough – you will need to summon a Wither Storm, a fury of sixteen demons, in order to communicate with the destructive god.”

“Witherquin is not known to be a great communicator. If you thought Enderquin treats those beneath him poorly, then just wait and see what Witherquin thinks of you.”

“It must be calculated, and it will be complicated – but in my opinion, it may be your only chance to escape this despicable place.”

“What happens next?” I ask hurriedly, for I know what I must do. “Even if all that works, what do I do on the other side? To stop Enderquin, when I don’t even know what he has already done?”

The Chosen One is silent for a moment. “I’m afraid I cannot help you beyond that.”

“But you know so much – perhaps you could talk to him and-“

“No,” he stands his ground. “I’ve done my time in this world. This is your fight now. But, I can give you one more piece of advice... Don’t believe everything you see."

If you look back at Session 208, you may recognize a familiar photo.

It goes without saying that the process of slabbing the entire Nether, within a 128-block radius centered on the fortress’s only surviving platform, was more than an arduous challenge. I could hardly complete it with the available stone I had at my disposal, which was a lot. Even beyond the initial spawn-proofing, I then had to check for caves, particularly in areas I never even realized existed. Suffice it to say that I learned more about these chunks than anywhere else down here.

The task was slightly helped by my rage-motivated obliteration of the Nether fortress, which left just one piece as the prime area to begin creating the farm of all farms. This is not just going to be a wither skeleton farm; it will also collect pigmen and blaze, effectively replacing both of those farms, too.

This project is my last hope, as it will be key to collecting enough wither skulls to summon sixteen Wither demons that will hopefully, by Witherquin’s mercy, set me free. I am placing my trust in the Chosen One’s roadmap.

My initial tests checking the spawn rates on this platform have been fruitful. This farm design is going to be a multi-layer slime block mover, and I need to make sure that every layer is counted within the fortress (hence allowing skeletons and blaze to spawn). Thankfully, because this platform happens to be at a bizarre intersection of fortress pathways, there is a lot of available spawning space here. No, this is not the typical “four-way crossroad” that perhaps you may consider as the ideal starting point for such a farm as this.

In fact, I may be able to show you where this platform is located within the fortress…

^ This is what that platform looked like before I tore it down back in Session 295. As you can see, it was already a wide-open playing field, rendering it perfect for our purposes here. This is integral to the farm’s design since we will not be building it entirely of Nether brick.

Normally, if the platforms are made of Nether brick, then it would not matter whether they were inside the bounding box of the small fortress “rooms,” so to speak. They would simply need to stay within the larger bounding box of the fortress, and fortress mobs would spawn. However, if the platforms are made of any other block, then we must be more selective of their location (they need to be bound within specific rooms, hallways – areas that were able to spawn mobs upon the fortress’s initial generation).

Here, I am building them of packed ice, so that they move more efficiently by the slime block movers I’m going to install. As you can see, fortress mobs still spawn on all three layers, which means we are in the clear.

Now that these considerations are taken care of, the hard work can begin. First, I am implementing wall posts every two blocks to prevent magma cubes from spawning. They will mess everything up. Lighting is also key – I really do not want those mobs distracting me while I try to build this.

Above, you will note the spawning platform layout for all three layers. In the center, there is a line of stone slabs on each side. This is where the mobs will funnel down into.

This next bit seems a bit odd but hear me out. The more Nether brick that surrounds our spawning space, the more likely it is that the spawning algorithm will produce fortress mobs. This “encouragement” is done on a logarithmic scale, which is to say that after about 4-6 blocks of platform extension, the actual increase in rates would be infinitesimal. For all of these, I am spawn-proofing most blocks. Some sections are left clear, as this is where my slime block movers will be based.

Rinse and repeat – that’s where we are now.

Looking good! Three platforms are not going to cut it, however. I need to build more.

For the top two layers, the spawning space is smaller. This is because my AFK position will be underneath the farm, and as you may know, the spawning radius around you is circular, defined by a Euclidean sphere. The edges of the “circle,” before mobs may risk de-spawning, are being outlined by the top layers here.

You will also notice that they are being built of Nether brick. I am not certain that this space is within the bounding box of the inner “room,” so using Nether brick will guarantee that fortress mobs spawn far above the original spawning location.

A fifth platform tops the farm off, even smaller than the fourth as you can see here.

I do not have access to much glazed terracotta at the moment, but I do have a generous number of leaves. The unfortunate fact about these is that they can catch fire, which means I will need to be extra cautious to prevent blaze from spawning (or seeing me if they do spawn). Leaves will make up the walls of the spawning platforms because they will not attach themselves to slime blocks as the movers do their work.

Lighting seems to be appropriate, as no blaze are spawning. This is excellent news.

Oh, well, I spoke a little too soon.

It’s coming together!

For the front and back, I will use some of the terracotta that I do have on hand. The terracotta must be of the glazed variety, else it will stick to the slime blocks.

^ Here, you can see all five layers, finished and ready for installation of the slime block movers.

The easiest way to build this will be from the bottom up, so I am using scaffolding to outline a base platform from which I can work on the collection space. This farm design is entirely based on slime block movers and other mechanical means of transporting mobs. Going this route is a little more involved, but the results are far more profitable.

For this bottom section, I need to condense the long collection spaces into a 1x1 area.

Each side gets its own one-block-wide collection corridor, making a total of two separated by an inner wall. Within this space, beds are installed to prevent mobs from taking fall damage.

^ Here, you will see how the mobs need to funnel yet a third time, from a 3x1 space into a 1x1 space. Hay bales prevent fall damage as well, and the block in-between both hay bales is the single fall chamber wherein the mobs will be killed.

The fall chamber protrudes into the lava lake, which means that I will need to do significant work within this area to prepare the collection area itself.

I will deal with that later. For now, I am moving onto the redstone.

A single lever will activate all the slime block movers via a torch tower.

This first mechanism is an observer-based detection system that will push mobs from the hay bales down into the final 1x1 fall space. String is placed here, the state of which will alter when a mob falls through it. That’s how the observers will be toggled, causing the pistons to extend and thrust the mobs into the chamber.

Next, I’m constructing the first set of slime block movers to get mobs into the 3x1 hay bale space from the initial, longer collection corridors.

^ Here, you can see how one mover on each side of the 3x1 area takes care of both sections.

At each end of the movers, obsidian is used to signify the terminals.

Admittedly, this is complex work, as there is significant interplay among the various models we are constructing.

Buttons are placed to prevent mobs from spawning on the slime block movers, which technically could occur at any point as they move about their route.

The same torch tower that toggles these movers will continue ascending to activate the haulers on every floor of the farm.

Up here, I extend the torch tower on the side of the upside-down stairs.

Repeaters are set to different tick lengths on each floor to prevent too many mobs from entering the collection area at one time. Doing so could cause many to die on impact due to the mob cramming rule.

Moving inside, the inner wall separating the two sections will be used to trigger all the movers.

^ What you’re seeing here is a unique chemistry. Observers control everything in this system, and beautifully so. When you initiate the farm, the torch tower will cause slime blocks to extend. The observer attached to the slime blocks is then detected by the observer above it, sending a signal to the Nether brick which will also extend. The repeater takes that signal, and sends it here:

Extending that piston will be used as a repeated input for an observer on the slime block mover itself, which is how the loop continues to feed.

^ As the movers return to the center, they will be detected by the outward facing observer you can see, and the cycle repeats (mover > observer > observer > repeater > piston > mover).

The system is compact and gorgeous; the mechanic in me marvels at how far redstone has come such that projects like this can exist employing intricate but economical combinations of blocks.

Haha, leave it to ghasts to ruin my day, except that the day is not ruined!

The outside terminals are much simpler, using simple observer-based feedback loops to tell the slime block movers to return back to the center.

Finally, I am building the machines that make the magic happen:

Above, you can visualize exactly how the process works in concordance with what we discussed earlier. Starting the farm causes the outward observer on the left of the first picture to extend, which will cause the piston on the right in the second picture to extend temporarily. Notice how this extended piston will allow the observer on the mover to receive a signal. After the mover returns to center, the sticky piston on the left of the first picture toggles the observer behind it, restarting the cycle. When you turn off the farm, there will be no observer present to continue the cycle, as is the case currently.

I am now repeating this construction nine more times, on each section of each platform. Since this process is redundant, I don’t need to show you every small step again.

^ However, I’ll take a slight detour to show you this oddity.

Apparently, there is spawning space above the roof here that I never knew about. I’m certain that more such spaces will show up as I move further in the development of this project.

All slime block movers are installed, which means it is now time to turn my attention to the collection area. But first…

I noticed a huge cluster of entities in one of the caves I covered, but clearly, I missed a spot. This is good news because it shows that the number of available spawning spaces in this chunk of the Nether has become so concentrated that our farm should run very competently.

After a quick test run activating the machines, I see that all slime block movers are working elegantly as intended. This gets me excited for the next phase.

Our farm will be designated the Witherquin Soul Seeker, as it will be responsible for brokering communication with the destructive god. Time is of the essence to commence the brigade of the black skulls.

The fall chamber for the Witherquin Soul Seeker ends well beneath the lava lake, which is not the most ideal situation given how much space we need for the rest of the farm’s construction. That doesn’t even include the storage area.

Drawing out a perimeter, I will have no choice but to remove the lava that lives here. This task might as well be as laborious as slabbing the Nether, but thankfully the volume of work required is much less by comparison.

The walls need to touch the bottom of the lava lake, which is tough to measure since I cannot see anything under here.

So, I will have to do this one layer at a time, replacing all lava sources with netherrack. For each layer, I must be cognizant that the introduction of netherrack will allow mobs to spawn. Unlike pigmen, ghasts will have no issue spawning right in front of me, and that could be catastrophic for the farm.

^ Case in point; I need to be careful.

As I descend lower into the lake, you can see how even just being on one end of the arena will promote spawning on the other. It’s because there is nowhere else that mobs can spawn.

Now the spawning is getting out of hand, and they are burying themselves in the lava. Is it really all that comfortable? My opinion is on the contrary.

While this is a tedious task, I am gathering some creative ideas on how to give this farm the grandiose aesthetic that it deserves. It has already occupied months of my attention, and I have every intent to use the materials at my disposal to finish it beautifully.

As I get closer to the bottom (though I’ve yet to determine when that will be), I conjured the brilliant idea of utilizing invisibility potions. Why did I not think of this before? It is already proving to have been in my best interest.

Haha, you can’t see me, fool.

The area is excavated well beneath the floor of the lava lake, as you can see above. As I determine how much further to go, I acknowledge my desire for a substantial storage area that will not require consistent emptying – this is already an issue with the Gold Grinder.

Oh boy, I need to hurry up and slab this arena.

Let’s work on this for now. After building the collection area, I will assess whether the arena needs to be lowered further.

The collection area must accommodate a variety of drops at a relatively high frequency. Additionally, it needs to deal with both stone and gold swords, which will be treated as junk in this system. Understanding this, we start with a cobweb that will consolidate the items as they fall through.

These hopper minecarts will rapidly collect and dispense all drops that will be picked up – they transfer items much more quickly than regular hoppers, and having several here means that no items will be left sitting. Observers will detect when items are received, prompting droppers to deliver them through the cobweb and into the next section of the system.

It is also helpful that hopper minecarts can hide inside of blocks. Here, I am using gravity-powered concrete to completely conceal them, while the mobs will fall onto the hay bale to reduce their fall damage.

For the next section, we need to move the items just as rapidly as they are collected. To do this, I am setting up a pathway paved with packed ice.

String has the same use here as it does upstairs on the farm itself. When items pass through it, an observer will detect this motion and cause the piston in front to push them across the route.

The use of an ender chest here is uniquely required because it is not a full block, meaning that items that land here will rest on the boundary between two blocks as they move to the next corner. This is an essential behavior for the item sorter to pick up the drops.

^ As you can see, the items will automatically be picked up by the correct hopper in this sorting system – but, they would be unable to do so if the items were not straddling the boundary between the packed ice and the hoppers (hence, the use of the ender chest). Stone and gold swords are not being sorted, nor will any hoppers be left “available” for un-sorted items. They will simply continue to move around the four corners until they inevitably de-spawn.

Now, it is clear that the arena is not low enough – far from it, in fact. To avoid ghast spawns, I will lower the platform every four blocks across, slab it, then repeat.

Everything down here must be spawn-proofed to prevent zombie reinforcements from spawning.

I think this is a good size for our storage, and you can see all the different drops it will collect. Indeed, this farm is the jack-of-all-trades for Nether mobs.

Now, it’s time for the moment of truth – to start up the farm.

Exercising a controlled removal of all lighting sources inside, with each floor I begin to hear mobs spawning. This is going to be great.

With the toggle of one lever, we start the slime block movers, and the mobs start funneling down.

Oh yeah – keep them coming!

My goodness, this farm is almost too fast – I can hardly keep up with killing the mobs before they start dying due to max entity cramming! But this makes it an effective dual-purpose farm. I can either use it as an XP farm that also collects wither skulls, or I could leave it wherein mobs will automatically die after 24 are sitting in the collection space.

…But it can still be faster. I found more mobs that are spawning on the outskirts of my slabbed perimeter. In doing more calculations, I have outlined above where the boundary should be relative to the collection spot.

FINALLY, I got a bow! I’ve been trapped down here without one, and my relief at now having a way to deal with ghasts from afar fills me with unending joy. Small wins should always be celebrated.

I’m going to leave the farm in collection mode for a while – so long as enough mobs are sitting in the collection chamber, any new ones will just die instantly. The only drops I won’t get from this mode are wither skulls, blaze rods and gold ingots (no swords either, but we don’t want those).

While the farm works, I have a big task ahead of me. It’s time to design the arena.

I want the appearance of this arena to reflect the work that has gone into the farm project, and simultaneously the trials I have endured to get to this point. As this is the final project for the season, it serves as the pinnacle of all that has come before. The art will be intricate, and I will do my best to utilize a variety of materials that offer an industrial, but still very Nether-oriented, theme.

Starting with some lava rings around the arena, contrast is a huge factor given that a majority of blocks I have available are dark. For each “layer,” I will switch up the blocks used for the walls. The inner layer will be composed of iron blocks to help the rings stand out.

Each lava fall will be backed using magma blocks, and the lava will collect into a small pool at the floor bounded by coal blocks.

The floor of the arena is a distinctive challenge since it must be entirely spawn proofed. I am keeping this in mind as I forge a design that balances contrast with cohesion.

^ Here, you can observe how I use a variety of blocks that bounce well off one another. My approach is to use dark blocks as an outline, with lighter blocks comprising the “interior” shapes. Normal and red nether brick, black and red glass, terracotta, iron, and coal blocks are some of the primary materials here. I use buttons carefully to fit with the industrial theme, doing my best not to overdue them.

Additionally, the main walkways are enclosed with nether wart topped with glass.

The finished design presents two wither skulls on each side of the arena, and you can also notice that note blocks are used to separate the magma blocks from the inner wall sections. Iron is used sparingly in the lower area, as this is a bright block that can easily clash if overused.

The view from afar looks busy, maybe even too much so, but I liken it to a meticulously crafted mosaic – one which is fully spawn-proof.

From here, I need to figure out how to connect the storage access area to the farm collection upstairs. Before we dive into that, however, maybe let’s just appreciate the work done so far, and enjoy using the farm for a while. We’ve got a lot of skulls to collect.

The Witherquin Soul Seeker is already a better gold farm, an improved blaze farm, a supplementary regular skeleton farm, a proper coal farm, a powerful update-safe XP farm, and now the sole source of the black skulls that will enable me to call Witherquin from his deep slumber.

Oh. Hell. Yeah.

All readings that contain Violet's visions and the Relics of Enderquin - Session 236, 242, 246, 250, 279, 282, 283, 292

Despite having no promise of escape, I will need a viable way to access the Witherquin Soul Seeker in a manner that does not require elytra. Installing a railway from our Nether expressway will be key to integrating the farm within our transportation network.

The design of the railway will maintain the consistency of our other highways, and it will be a branch from highway Q5 at the Enderquin HQ terminal.

The Soul Seeker itself is not far from here, not even a hundred blocks – but, the point of entry is significantly lower in elevation than where we are currently.

Much like the farm itself, the railway will need to dive into the lava lake, as my goal is to preserve the purity and appearance of the farm as much as possible.

Dealing with the lava is a slight annoyance, but it isn’t much more than that.

Because I have ample building materials here, the construction of the railway itself is also not particularly difficult. The challenge will be how to integrate it cohesively with the farm, given my goal to preserve its look.

I cannot forget to slab the top of all blocks that I’ve added here – else, mobs will spawn and reduce the rates of the farm.

After much deliberation, I am choosing to construct two breaks in the arena from which you will enter the Soul Seeker. The first one is here at the bottom level, where you can access the ground level and storage area.

Keeping the aesthetic theme here, I now need to think about how to get to the top area where the actual farming takes place. After all, I am not keen on using scaffolding, nor do I want to build any ugly staircases that will detract from the visuals.

This is a much trickier problem than I originally anticipated, mostly because the ideal scenario is for this whole area to remain open. Therefore, the solution will need to involve the most minimal amount of new construction within the arena itself.

I think I have landed on a solution: building the staircase inside the lava lake, and creating a second breakpoint here at the top of the arena.

In doing so, I have found a trick that enables me to see under lava! By just barely straddling the edge of flowing lava where the lava meets airspace, I can see all the blocks underneath. This makes my life a lot easier, and furthermore illustrates how grueling that filling the initial arena was.

Inside, you will take a staircase next to the railway that leads to the top section.

You can see also how I am using the lava lake as a light source.

For the collection area, I am covering it entirely with glass. This is for added protection against any potential ghasts, of course (not that any should spawn, but still).

Again, the piston door is precautionary, as I do not want any worry at all should I decide to leave the farm run in AFK mode for an extended period.

^ This sign is smart, because on one occasion I accidentally left the chunks without turning the farm off. As a result, I needed to rebuild the slime block movers individually. I do not want to do that again.

From here, the Soul Seeker is fully integrated, and it’s time to farm wither skulls.

The Chosen One stated that in order to awaken Witherquin, we would need to create something called a “Wither Storm” – a pool of sixteen Withers that would be powerful enough to connect to the ancient deity. I have never attempted to confront more than four Withers at a single time, and even that was a rather ambitious endeavor (not to mention, we weren’t in hell either). The idea of spawning a force that I may not be capable of stopping scares me, but it’s the only hope I have left to get the hell out of here.

This presents the best opportunity to repurpose the Inferno Launch Chamber which was originally going to be used for bedrock destruction. Now, we will use it to create the Wither Storm.

All sixteen demons will spawn in a circle enclosed under the lava lake, where I expect they will not be able to get out. This will keep the destructive power of the storm contained, but it also means I will not be able to fight it should it come to that.

I will feed a line of redstone extending from the Inferno Launch Chamber down to the pool – it’s a very long line.

Doing my best to cover it up, I’ll now lay down the first two of three skulls for each Wither necessary to start the storm.

Of course, ghasts will show up to ruin my day, as they always do.

The third skull will be placed at all sixteen Withers simultaneously, and this will be done from the Inferno Launch Chamber lodged in the Nether roof.

With the mechanism wired up, I’ve readied my defenses at the Launch Chamber. It’s time to launch the storm. It’s time to awaken Witherquin.

*RATTLE*

*THUNDER*

I can hear the pulsating echo of netherrack cracking all around me. The ground shakes ever so slightly as the force of gravity begins to strengthen around the pool. Supernatural sounds emanate from the pool as the Withers reach the point of activation. Glowstone fades in and out like I’ve never observed before, the entire warmth of the Nether dying as the magnetic field surrounding the pool intensifies.

It isn’t long until I hear it.

The shockwave sends me flying through the air as the storm’s sheer power reaches its apex. The reverberations from the pool are so strong that I hear them from across the Nether, each rattle bouncing off the walls effortlessly as the storm increases in amplitude.

A voice emerges from the pool, though to say I could understand it would be polite more than anything else.

“CHEVDROL INIA SEDAKK, UNIER WRETCHI QOVA”

The voice completely overwhelms my ears, bouncing all around me like a chorus of disgruntled witches who have been brought back from death. It straddles a whisper, but very dominantly resonates throughout the entire cavern. Almost as if all sixteen Withers are attempting the same speech simultaneously, but their synchronization is eerily unbalanced.

“PLAS KETT II’SHETSKA, MORDOL RIDIA NONG SHI”

“I don’t understand!” I cry out, loud as I can from the safety of this ledge. “Please! Help me understand what you speak!”

“FLAAK PEZ TCHI.”

I wait for further words from the pool, but nothing further emerges. In what is probably one of my dumbest moves, I decide I must approach the pool.

…but that’s when a fury of bombs begin hurdling towards me, followed by another shockwave. I recognize that I must surely die.

Thunder fills the Nether as Withers begin popping up from underneath the pool.

“I SLEEP. YOU DISTURB.”

Witherquin must now realize that I am human. That’s good news… right?

“HOW YOU DISTURB ME…” I think that was a question, but it’s hard to tell from the ghastly slurs that intertwine with his words.

“Your dimension is a cage hidden from a much bigger war! Your creatures have been captured and their ecosystem has been destroyed!” I speak with confidence, feeling this to be a strategic move to show Witherquin that I am serious.

“I did those things. I corrupted your dimension to get your attention! Now, will you hear me?!”

“YOU DO NOT SPEAK HERE.”

“Your brother has captured the Overworld! Enderquin has taken the entire population hostage. He promises to rebuild it in his image – the same image you intended to destroy all those ages ago. But he has locked me in your realm! I need your help, to get me out of here so that I can stop him!”

A moment of silence which lasts longer than normal fills the air – not even a rattle is heard. I wait anxiously for the unpredictable god’s response, hoping this is the moment I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“YOU CAUSED THIS.”

My heart sinks as those words arise from my very last hope…

“YOU WILL DIE HERE, CREATURE.”

That’s when I realize that death is exactly what I want. If I die, that means I will respawn in the Overworld and finally break the curse! If Witherquin governs the rules of this realm, I am willing to bet that his power will burn through the curse like butter and kill me.

“Do it! KILL ME, Witherquin! Set me free!!”

I charge towards the pool, knowing full well that I am dashing towards the fury of a scary, chaotic god who wants nothing more than to destroy everything that exists. I will use that fury as the solution to this nightmare. I’m going home.

“What are you waiting for? Burn every ash of my being!!” The god hurls bombs at me while drowning me in lava, yet I am still alive.

“STOP HOLDING BACK, WITHERQUIN!! This is where you get to BEAT him!” I yell in a raging fury of my own. It’s time to end this.

“He took everything from you!! He forced you to rot in an unredeemable place that Sentien would be embarrassed to see!”

“He does not deserve to have the Overworld! He deserves to die without it!”

“Show him that your vengeance is far greater than his power will ever be! Destroy the curse and KILL ME!”

With not a scratch on my body and not an ounce closer to death, the onslaught abruptly ceases as one of Witherquin’s demons rises from the pool to greet me. And his message sinks me in an ominously different way.

“YOU. ARE. THE. GAUNTLET.”

“Thrives… with infinite lives…” I whisper to myself in defeat, echoing Enderquin’s words to me in years past. Only now, I understand that message was never for me. It was for his brother, to be delivered at this exact moment. Just as Violet prophesied.

The book of relics she gave to me years ago… it was a roadmap hiding in plain sight this whole time.

“Act upon the soul of sand,

Bring the demon alive.”

…

“Coax a crafty spirit besides

The hope which it holds tight…”

…

“Find the weakness in which it confides;

Bring its true form to light.”

…

“Though escape does not greet a traveler’s feet,

When all of his wits are lost.”

…

I reflect on all the texts that were contained in that ancient book. Enderquin knew I would try to wake Witherquin from his slumber. He knew I would be pushed to desperation and figure out how to do it. He told me right then, before we ever met face-to-face, that I would fail. I am a tool Enderquin has been using to taunt Witherquin in his own realm. Because I am the gauntlet that thrives with infinite lives.

It’s all coming true.

At the city church, Mayor Sensha paces while roughly twenty frightened villagers make attempts at comforting one another as the earth continues to rumble underneath them. Light tremors batter the doors, but they remain intact. Torches had to be removed as the enderman infestation is growing more prevalent in the immediate area.

Suddenly, a shriek is heard in the near distance, though the mayor cannot pinpoint its location. The scream baffles the villagers a second time, before erupting into a violent panic. Something horrific is happening, but nobody can make out what.

“I’m going out there,” the conflicted mayor announces.

“What, no! You can’t!” one among the chorus of disapproving voices declares. “You’ll die.”

“Somebody is crying out for help – they need help! I can’t just listen to that!”

“Mayor, the area is completely surrounded. You will risk giving away our location to those cursed creatures!”

The elongated screech continues outside, morphing from the cry of a villager to the cry of something much less recognizable.

“What is that?” one of the children asks.

“It’s nothing, sweetie. Everything will be okay,” mom assures as she shares discordant eye contact with Mayor Sensha. The struggling mayor grabs his bag and dashes out the door without a second thought, much to the shock of everyone inside the church. Sighs and scares abound as Jacque rushes to brace the door shut.

Taking off his outfit, the mayor keeps to the ground, crawling to the nearest hill to hide, noticing that the endermen are mostly facing towards the ensuing panic taking place on the other side of the hill. The screams, crisply echoing in the silent night, grow deeper in frequency. The single voice splits into many, the cries turning to distinct roars.

Keenly sneaking around the hill, the mayor tucks himself into a pocket and peeks over the edge. He notices a blue-robed figure blocking what appears to be the turmoiled villager. But the blue-robed figure does not move so much as a muscle, rather enacting some type of ritualistic force on the villager.

Mayor Sensha watches as the poor villager succumbs to the power of this unexplainable force, but not by death. No, this villager had completed her metamorphosis.

She is now an enderman.

This was not always a story-oriented journal. Storylines and lore have been hinted at since the beginning of Season 2, but weren't explored until the end of Season 2. Build projects and world development aside, here's what you need to get up to speed on the storyline:

Begin with the first post to get a sense of the locations (you don't need all the checkpoint sessions listed there - you can skip those). Start in session #108 for an introduction to Stonewall Territory, then you can skip to #167 for a little worldbuilding. The North Shore Adventure in #182-183 is pretty important, but isn't entirely "in-universe" yet. The actual storyline starts in #195 which introduces the Secret of Stonewall, then you can skip to #198 - actually, you just need the beginning and the last few minutes of 198's accompanying video. It leads directly into #199, and #200 (Season 2 finale) is one you can't skip. That's when Techtropolis became Quintropolis - read the introductory tale (Secret of Stonewall), then watch the first two sections of the accompanying video (first 15 minutes). The rest of that video is just a world tour, but the last ten minutes are very important and they set the entire tone for Season 3.

For Season 3:

#201-210 (optional) - This is probably the most self-contained story arc in the entire journal. It'll provide some good insight on the civil conflicts, but you'll already get that out of #200 and could skip this part.

#219-220 - First mention of endermen and discussing theories about their existence.

#235 - Important revelation at the end.

#236 - Violet's visions about the future. Very important session - we've yet to see whether those visions will come to light...

#242 - Further information about Violet's situation.

#245-246 - Several plot vouchers introduced here...

#247-249 - Pretty much a buildup for #250, you can skip around these a bit.

#250 - Ender dragon fight, video-oriented session but contains some important dialogue especially near the end.

Story doesn't really return until #269, which introduces the first major characters other than Violet.

#275-277 - Three-part mini-series establishing the nation of Quintropolis and my relations with the villages. Several characters introduced, major worldbuilding, and big plot elements.

#279 - Also just need the beginning of #280 afterwards.

#282-283 - Essential - need both of these and the beginning of #284 (you can skip the rest after Starlight Compressor is introduced).

#291-299 - The entire final stretch of sessions is crucial to establishing the premise, stakes, and history/lore that will lead directly into today's finale (especially #296, which explores the history of Enderquin and the Overworld itself).

-- A LONG TIME AGO --

“Good morning, Jakar!” greeted Jaman as Jakar headed out into the market. It was a beautiful day, the sunlight beaming brightly on the villagers.

“Jaman, beautiful day for a harvest, is it not?”

“Most certainly so! Arksyn is on his way to the farm now. Perhaps you should join him.”

Jakar did want to join; he had not seen Arksyn in many days. However, there was much work to do. “I’ll have to tag along another day. I’m heading into the sanctum today.”

Everyone knew what that meant. They called it the sanctum to be respectful. The people who built the sanctum wanted it to be a place that others only ever heard about – few ever visited, and those who did were thought to be chosen prophets for some higher purpose.

“Have fun…” Jaman said simply. Jakar left without another glance.

The sanctum, located roughly 8,000 meters north of the village, largely hid within the otherwise deserted landscape.

Jakar took his place on the pedestal next to Myra – the two had never spoken to one another, despite always occupying the same space on their respective visits to the sanctum. Speech was not considered respectful in the sanctum’s space unless under specific conditions, such as being exercised as a response when spoken to by the elders.

A mist emanated from the lake, and an ominous elder rose from the depths of the sparkling waters. He stood for a moment, fixating his gaze upon Myra first, then to Yoz, then to Dorphi, then to Garsha, then to Nephrim, then to Pasturik, then to Agras. He stopped there, before facing the seemingly endless gulley behind him. He never once looked at Jakar.

“The sanctum has preserved the civilizations each of you have constructed so masterfully,” his ominous voice began. “We are grateful to see that the Overworld thrives under your leadership.”

An awkward silence followed, as all eight of the prophets eagerly awaited what was to come next – they already knew, however.

“We are glad that this iteration of Quintropolis has been considered successful, as the time has come for a new Purge. Please return to your respective villages and continue leading them to greatness. When the sun falls, the world will reset. Your work is done.”

The elder descended back into the sparkling water, and the fog mostly dissipated into darkness. The eight prophets glanced around at one another, but no words were shared. Without much more hesitation, they departed the sanctum one-by-one.

Jakar’s pace hastened the moment he stepped outside the temple, which caught the attention of Dorphi.

“Jakar, my brother!” she called out. Now that they were outside the sanctum, speech according to human society’s rules was permitted to continue. “You are not particularly satisfied with the result?” she asked Jakar.

“He never looked at me,” stated Jakar nervously. “He made contact with every one of you, but not me.”

“And what do you suspect the issue is?”

“I don’t think he is happy with my village. I don’t think I will survive the Purge this time,” admitted Jakar in defeat.

“Jakar, your village is among the highest of technological advancement!” Dorphi praised. “Your people show great strength, hospitality, leadership, and intelligence. If I am honest, it has given all of us a slight bit of envy!”

“Then why do I feel like something is wrong?”

“You have always been one to jump to paranoia first. I even believe it is this thinking of yours that has propelled your village to the heights it has achieved. Sentien will be proud to see Kuli Aleilm on Judgment Day.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Jakar did not exactly feel so sure, and Dorphi could tell he was still on edge.

Dorphi placed a hand on Jakar’s shoulder. “Remember one thing – you would not have been called to the Inner Circle if Sentien did not feel you were worthy. You’re here for a reason. We all are.”

Jakar nodded and left, as the other seven prophets all returned to their corresponding villages. The fact that the elder never looked at him had him worried, and he remained unsure what to make of this information given that nightfall was just around the corner. The end of the world was on its way, and nobody would ever know it. In an instant, Quintropolis would reset.

“Welcome back, Jakar. It took you a little longer today!” Jaman was always the first to greet Jakar from his visits to the sanctum. But Jakar hastily pulled Jaman aside.

“Jaman, I have always trusted you as a brother, yes?”

“Why… yes, of course! What’s the matter with you? You look frightened.”

Jakar peered around to observe the villagers, to look for anything or anyone that might appear out of place. He did not want to cause any commotion.

“Okay, I am not supposed to tell you this, but tomorrow none of you will exist, and neither will Kuli Aleilm.” Naturally, Jaman showed no initial reaction to this, because how does one react to that? After a moment, he burst with laughter, attracting unwanted attention from other villagers. Jakar was understandably defeated.

“What in heavens goes on up there in the sanctum?” asked Jaman curiously, still chuckling at Jakar’s comments. “I mean, you left earlier today instilled with such confidence. Now look at ya!”

“It’s complicated… I can’t fully explain everything exactly, but I just… I want you to know that I’ve always tried my best to lead you all to be independent thinkers for yourselves.”

“Of course, Jakar – any human being would be blessed to be living within the constructs of your village. And you know I have been to the other villages. Delta and Quarica are nice, but they are led by people who don’t encourage the same freedoms you do. They lead by fear.”

Jakar finally smiled, feeling a bit more at ease to know that the people thought so highly of him and his leadership. He had wrestled with the question of whether this was more important than what the gods thought. Did they approve of Kuli Aleilm? Does that matter if the people thrived? He had begun contemplating these things in the wilderness outside the village, the sun coming ever so close to dusk. He knew this was the end of this world.

Perhaps what he always believed was true – that the gods never wanted people to become intelligent. To be their own free innovators. To use the tools that were provided by them to build things the gods never even conceived. It was true what Jaman said – the other villages were led in a more aristocratic fashion. People did their jobs and slept, all while simply contributing to the ecosystems that would allow their leader to thrive at the expense of their happiness. This set Kuli Aleilm apart from the other villages. Every villager had their own voice, their own practice, their freedom to explore and to innovate.

Jakar, realizing these things, decided to use his last moments to craft a message for the next world. He knew that while everything resets, there is one particular area that the gods cannot touch. Hastening for his office, he drafted a document for the curious explorer who might one day find it.

To the explorer who finds this message:

After many cycles, the mythical sky dimension has been discovered. We do not know about its inhabitants, as we have run out of time to venture into the portal. The clues left by the previous world helped us get here. We can give you the next step, so that you will have more time to discover what the gods are hiding from us. I have left you several tools that may assist you when you find the ancient underground city. Continue what we started.

He signed off the message, taking it cautiously to a hidden room beneath his office, revealing an ender chest. Inside, he placed the message, along with the Relics of Enderquin, a powerful bow, a few end crystals, sixteen ender pearls, sixteen eyes of ender, a stack of golden apples, a few bottles of enchanting, and the materials needed to spawn one of Witherquin’s demons.

Jakar then destroyed the ender chest, the last one in Quintropolis, knowing that the gods would no longer have a way to access its contents. He sent off the message believing that somebody in the next world would find it, put the pieces together, and continue their search for answers about their world.

Returning to Kuli Aleilm, Jakar watched the villagers continue their work, smiling at one another, trading with one another, all without any knowledge that their lives would end as abruptly as a single snap.

He, himself, smiled at the satisfaction of his village, feeling humbled that he had the opportunity to lead them. Whether or not the gods admired him as a leader, he determined that what mattered most was whether his people lived a life they desired.

The sun set, and the countdown to the Purge began.

10.

9.

8.

7.

6.

5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

-- PRESENT DAY --

Another tree crashes through the high winds, rain and thunder continuing to cascade upon the worn wooden roof like Vayaquin’s fury. Whispers in the air cut through the echoes of fallen branches, metal scraping the sides of rocks, and the occasional woosh indicating teleportation. Whilst nature’s wrath dominates the town, refuge becomes less and less stable at the church.

“Jacque, I already know about the portal. We’ve been over this – nobody gets near it. I can’t get in touch with anyone at the Council Clubhouse,” Mayor Sensha states as he tries to calm the villagers in the church who have escaped the storm.

“You can’t just get a boat?” asks Jacque, who is more out-of-the-loop than the others.

“Once again, the island is not served by any roadways! Furthermore, any moment outside this church is a potential moment that an enderman will see you.”

“I’m a butcher for God’s sake! What’s the worst that can happen??”

“How many times do I have to say it?? If he sees you, and he gets into your head, he can make you see all the things that scare you. Can you butcher those hallucinations, Jacque??”

“Can’t be that difficult,” Jacque shrugs it off.

“We stay put!”

“Until when??!!” yells another villager from the back of the church, amidst a huddling of twenty others. “We’ve been stuck in here for days!”

“Until Joey returns! He is the only one who can get us to safety! Until that happens, we DO NOT leave this church!” Mayor Sensha’s frustration overwhelms his judgment, his optimism slowly draining as days turn into weeks without any sign of Joey and with more wooshes occurring every passing day, the rain subsiding as the endermen take its place.

“Mayor…” a calmed yet cautious villager removes himself from the despaired crowd, speaking to the mayor more subdued. “You know that Joey would not have left us helpless, don’t you? Something is very wrong.”

“I know…” admits the disgruntled mayor. “I just wish he would have been more honest with us. We could’ve helped if we knew what we were up against.”

“Good thing you hired that spy of yours…”

“Huh?” Mayor Sensha is shocked – nobody is supposed to know about that.

“Yeah… where is Greta, anyway? Haven’t seen her around since the last time Joey was here. You know – when you told him about Stonewall.”

Mayor Sensha stands speechless.

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“Staz, would you stop fiddling with that?” Böshtok yells as Staz continues trying to open the ender chest.

“What? The darned thing’s gotta open someday!! And ya know what they say, or I guess they say it: there’s no time like the present! Especially when the world’s prolly gonna end tonight,” Staz casually suggests, all the while trying to pry the ender chest open with shears – an effort that had so far been fruitless.

“This is not a joke, Staz,” Arian stomps into the clubhouse, soaking wet, as the building remains heavily guarded by iron golems. She slams two potions of something down on the community chest before continuing to track footprints all over the clubhouse, in a typical pissed off fashion.

“FIRST, I get jumped by two husks that want to eat me. Didn’t see the idiots. Then I come back from the desert and hear all this crazy sh*t, as if I walked right back into a portal to my ex’s house if you know what I mean. All of a sudden, lightning strikes the tree right next to me before endermen start pouring out from God knows where… like did I die and enter a real-life RPG??”

“Arian… have you been drinking again?” Böshtok notes, concerningly trying to determine what is in those two potions.

“What?” Arian looks down at the potions, then back at Böshtok, her demeanor shifting ever so slightly. “These aren’t poison potions! It’s just a new flavored water that I, uh… a vendor in Techtown was selling them.”

“Right… I guess I won’t ask about the green bottles, either.”

“Oh, those?” Arian pulls out three bottles from her pouch. “They’re bottles of good vibes. They make you feel good. Here!”

“No, stop!!” But it’s too late – Arian splashes two at Böshtok, who reluctantly gives into the immediate ecstasy the aura provides. Staz can’t help himself, either.

“Oooo, pretty colors!! Where’d ya find these? Got anymore??”

“Cool it, Jazzy Stazzy. This last one’s for me when I inevitably fall into some other trap on this godforsaken island. The one day I decide to go for a hike…”

“What were you doing at Techtown, Arian?” Böshtok’s mental clarity is still relatively stable. “I mean, ever since we moved here, that town has been abandoned.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong, Poshy Boshy.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“There are a few vendors still there – most of them migrated from Starlight City when they realized that Joey is a fundamental liar. They figured it would be a better place to conduct simpler lives under the radar.”

“Well, okay, let’s not be haste with judgment.”

“Oh, you know it’s true! You’re always tryin’ to stay in the middle ground, but you and I both know that Joey had absolutely every intention to bring this supernatural bullsh*t into our otherwise peaceful world. If not for him, I would have four drinks here instead of two.”

Böshtok raises his eyebrows, now realizing that his original question to Arian had been answered.

“Oh, come on, don’t you see? This is all part of Joey’s master plan. ‘Oh, poor villagers! They’ll HAVE to rely on me to save them from gods who want to destroy them! Oh, they’ll worship me as their savior after I unleash catastrophic chaos on their sheep-like society!’ You’re not a shamefaced idiot, Böshtok.”

“He’s not a perfect person; we’ve been over that. But I don’t believe he intended for any of this.”

“Then where is he now, huh? Why has he failed to show up? Got some new redstone project he decided to build without anyone’s permission?” Arian’s frustration begins to boil as Staz quietly backs into the corner, trying his best not to be noticed. He continues prying at the ender chest with negligible, silent effort.

“Arian, you’re upset. I understand; trust me. I’m right there with you. But-“

“Nope, stop right there. You actually don’t understand. I came to this clubhouse because the mayor thought I would add a good balance to the Council. But you know what? There is no diplomatic balance here at all!” Arian disappointingly looks over at Staz, who is still embarrassingly fiddling with the shears.

“And where is your other council member? Ibram, is it? Do you even know what goes on here?!”

“Arian, you don’t gotta be so rude,” Staz decides to add his voice to the argument, shears still in hand.

“Is that your attempt at trying to sound useful and contributive to this conversation, Staz?” Staz doesn’t respond, but he does finally put down the shears. “Yeah, thought so.”

“Arian, I’m not sure you recognize the relationship we have with Joey,” Böshtok tries to level things back out. “We cannot control him.”

“Oh, that much is clear.”

“Our job is to monitor his activity and report to Mayor Sensha everything we observe. That’s all.”

“Really? That’s it? Oh, how I didn’t realize this sooner!” Arian’s sarcasm is not wholesomely welcomed by Böshtok, who reaches into a chest to reveal a book that looks as though it hadn’t been touched since the day the world began.

“Do you know what this is?” Böshtok asks, but Arian just throws up her hands. “It’s an old document – I don’t even know where it came from, really. A dungeon dweller brought it to the mayor ages ago, who then gave it to me.”

Böshtok places the document on a lectern and opens it with great care, doing his best not to disrupt the already tarnished spine.

“It’s a peace treaty between two Quintropolis factions who originally shared a disagreement regarding the dispersion of chorus fruit crops. One faction claimed that the other had secret ties to illegal distribution networks that allowed mass circulation of the product.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they start a war over some fruit that they could just grow themselves?”

“Because chorus fruits do not grow in the wild. In fact, there is no evidence that they ever grew here. Not only that, but many did try and grow the fruit. It didn’t react positively to soil, or any other material of this world.”

“But then…” Arian gestures to the chorus fruit plants that surround the Inner Circle outside.

“Exactly,” Böshtok closes the document. “Somehow, Joey acquired these forbidden fruits. Mayor Sensha was curious whether Joey might have ties to these factions, and he formed the Council of Techtown as an undercover establishment to investigate the source of the fruits. It’s one of the main reasons we invaded Starlight all those years ago, even before we knew he had them.”

“So, okay, let me get this straight. Ya’ll started some freemason sh*t because you wanted to find some otherworldly fruit that looks like an ugly, dried-out cactus which also hates everything. Ever tried just tracking down these factions?”

“These factions are part of an older age than the one we’re living in. They don’t exist anymore.”

“How old, exactly? Prehistoric?”

“Don’t be silly. We know they existed because the treaty confirms a relationship with the fallen society of Kuli Aleilm. The problem is that we cannot seem to find any physical ruins of them, no language, no relics – nothing except this treaty. It’s as though whatever civilizations they fostered abruptly ended with seemingly no explanation.”

“Ah, so it’s conjecture, then. You don’t have any evidence that these places were even real. Who’s to say that ol’ dungeon dweller wasn’t enjoying a couple potions of his own and decided to doodle in his spare time?? Pfft, for a man of such composure, you are glaringly naïve.”

“You’re missing the big picture. Chorus fruits are not supposed to exist!” Böshtok’s tone shifts as he starts to match Arian’s energy. “How would a dungeon dweller have any knowledge about such things? You see the fruits for yourself. They only grow on end stone. Where do you think that comes from?? The fact that this document exists means that somebody else knew about Enderquin’s existence long before Joey ever did.”

“Seems you answered your own question. If you suspect the fruits originated from Enderquin… I mean, what do you plan to do with that information? I’m still missing the whole point of this. Seems like poor timing to be talking about fruit when endermen are terrorizing the city.”

“Someone had to originally bring these fruits back from Enderquin. But all the gateways to the sky dimension had been closed for centuries, if not millennia, until Joey opened them again. If there’s a way to close the portal and cut Enderquin off from the world, then Joey is our best hope to find it.”

“Yet he is nowhere to be found. You should be stampeding Starlight right now in search of the answers you seek. I’m sure Joey has all kinds of stuff in there that he refuses to share with anyone, including the location of that portal.”

“It is the Council’s purpose to be discreet. Joey doesn’t know about this document, nor is he aware of our interest in the chorus fruits. We’re not trying to start a war – that’s exactly what caused the fall of Kuli Aleilm.”

“Ha, you don’t want to start a war, yet look what’s happening around us. The world is falling and you’re all bathing in its broth.”

Arian strides to the community chest and grabs the two potions, placing them in her pouch.

“Where are you going?” asks Böshtok, taking a step towards the door as Arian does.

“To Starlight. I’m certainly not waiting here for a petty god to **** all over my life when I just wanted to go for a hike in the woods. If you’re not going to demand answers, then I will.”

“Arian, you have no idea what kind of defense system Joey has set up, or how to navigate that place.”

“I’ll figure it out. Can’t be that difficult if there’s a damn railway to it right outside.”

Staz watches pitifully as Arian charges out the door. “Wait!” he yells. Arian stops. “I’m coming with you…” Staz grabs the shears, as a reaction, probably to feel useful and contributive.

Böshtok’s anxiety continues to heighten. “Staz, this is a bad idea! We don’t just break into places. This is not what the Council does!”

“Ya know, ya’ll do treat me like a child. And frankly, I’m tired of it! Joey could’ve prevented Drexel’s death; he could’ve warned us!! He did NOTHING!”

Before Böshtok conjures a response, he is left standing in dismay as Staz rushes outside into the silent storm, joining Arian as the two hop onto the railway towards Starlight HQ.

“Get me out of here, god of war,” I plead in the most desperate fashion. For all his supposed power, he must be able to free me. If he can’t, then who can? Our enemy alone?

“I CANNOT HELP YOU.”

“Then you’ll die like the rest of them,” I reply, powering myself up with golden apples before assaulting the demon head-on. If the supposed ruler of this hellish place cannot free me from his prison, then the least I can do is conquer him.

Facing the wrath of fire in a heated showdown as the Nether awakens with glorious vengeance, I take to the sky and use the power of movement to diminish the god’s ability to fight me. His attacks are strong, but they rely on my position being relatively steady. Let’s see how he handles me in God Mode.

He can’t kill me, but that doesn’t stop him from unleashing his anger. With every successful attempt to lure one of the demons out from the pool, I use the skills I have learned to take them down in the sky.

The key is not allowing him to bury himself back into lava, because when he does that, I have already lost. I have proven capable of fighting a god hand-to-hand, but not one that I can’t see.

“Stop hiding! Come out and play with me!”

“YOU WANT FIRE? YOU GET FIRE.”

Both the pigmen and ghasts have rallied up against me, all the while Witherquin’s demons continue spilling from the pool ready for battle. A few years ago, back before the Secret of Stonewall, before that first Wither battle, before all the legends about gods and wars and anything of that nature, imagining this situation would have terrified me. I’d have been comfortable just living peaceably in my little mountain abode farming carrots. Some time, right?

But things change. These creatures don’t scare me anymore. It is them who should be scared of me.

Perhaps it is natural selection which Sentien and the others severely underestimated, but I believe the Chosen One was right about me. Maybe I am destined to become like a god. Maybe the reason Witherquin cannot break the curse is because he lacks the power that lives inside of me. We have something the gods never did: freewill. Each one of them was given a place and a purpose. They were created to fulfill their role, and nothing beyond that. But what am I meant to do?

I believe my purpose is to destroy Enderquin.

Facing the fury of the storm, I realize that trying to kill Witherquin will not serve my objective. This is a meaningless fight – sure was fun, though. I’ll give him that.

“I’m done with these games! Try and kill me if you wish, but without some way to break free from this cage, I’m afraid both of us have lost.”

Witherquin has nothing left to say to me. And I have nothing left to lose. My soul has already been sold to the devil, and the longer I spend in hell, the more it starts to feel like home.

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At the city church, Mayor Sensha paces while roughly twenty frightened villagers make attempts at comforting one another as the earth continues to rumble underneath them. Light tremors batter the doors, but they remain intact. Torches had to be removed as the enderman infestation is growing more prevalent in the immediate area.

Suddenly, a shriek is heard in the near distance, though the mayor cannot pinpoint its location. The scream baffles the villagers a second time, before erupting into a violent panic. Something horrific is happening, but nobody can make out what.

“I’m going out there,” the conflicted mayor announces.

“What, no! You can’t!” one among the chorus of disapproving voices declares. “You’ll die.”

“Somebody is crying out for help – they need help! I can’t just listen to that!”

“Mayor, the area is completely surrounded. You will risk giving away our location to those cursed creatures!”

The elongated screech continues outside, morphing from the cry of a villager to the cry of something much less recognizable.

“What is that?” one of the children asks.

“It’s nothing, sweetie. Everything will be okay,” mom assures as she shares discordant eye contact with Mayor Sensha. The struggling mayor grabs his bag and dashes out the door without a second thought, much to the shock of everyone inside the church. Sighs and scares abound as Jacque rushes to brace the door shut.

The mayor keeps to the ground, crawling to the nearest hill to hide, noticing that the endermen are mostly facing towards the ensuing panic taking place on the other side of the hill. The screams, crisply echoing in the silent night, grow deeper in frequency. The single voice splits into many, the cries turning to distinct roars.

Keenly sneaking around the hill, the mayor tucks himself into a pocket and peeks over the edge. He notices a blue-robed figure blocking what appears to be the turmoiled villager. But the blue-robed figure does not move so much as a muscle, rather enacting some type of ritualistic force on the villager.

Mayor Sensha watches as the poor villager succumbs to the power of this unexplainable force, but not by death. No, this villager had completed her metamorphosis.

She is now an enderman.

Before Mayor Sensha could react, he turns to see two endermen towering over him, staring into his soul. He freezes, but notices that the hillside opening runs into a cave system. He figures that they cannot fit underneath the opening.

“Going somewhere?” the dreaded, growling voice of Enderquin calls out.

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“The walls of your guilt will find closure in the aftermath,” Böshtok states while Ibram reads from a book. “That’s the last thing I said to Joey before he disappeared. It was a message from the wandering trader.”

“Hmm, did you get the trader’s name?” Ibram closes his book and arranges it in a chest full of at least twenty other books, many of which have lost the battle against time.

“No… he’s a wandering trader. I didn’t figure he had a name.”

“Oh, that’s bright of you, Böshtok.” Ibram shakes his head, then stares into space a moment, still sifting through the books. “Wait… what does that mean? The aftermath? Aftermath of what?”

“Enderquin’s siege, I suppose.”

“Did Joey tell you where he was going after he left that day?”

“Does Joey ever tell me where he is going?”

“I did figure it was our job to know that…” Ibram’s frustration, though still muted, begins spilling into his words. “Did you get an idea of the general direction, at least?”

Ibram’s question is met with a dazed look and nothing further. He sighs, grabs a book with no cover, then leaves the clubhouse.

Böshtok waits for nothing in particular, generally unamused but marginally disappointed with himself. None of his fellow council members seem satisfied with his leadership, yet he wonders all too specifically about the chorus fruits outside. While his thoughts evolve like waves during high tide, his actions stagnate like a squirrel trying to stay warm on a winter night. His comrades have all stood up and pushed towards their own plans to find a solution. Meanwhile, his solution is to wait. For nothing in particular.

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I toss an arrow back at the grueling god, who continues to taunt me. Two bombs later, he finally hits me with a wither skull.

“Finally, you got a point. I thought I’d beat you all too easy!”

Technically, it had been too easy. But I figured I’d give Witherquin a fair shot. Besides, this was his idea.

He hits me with another skull, but admittedly I let him.

“I WIN. BACK TO ZERO.”

“Better late than never.”

For a god that preys on smaller creatures, Witherquin seems all too desperate for some interaction. His fierceness does its best to hide the fact that deep inside, I think he wants out of here as much as I do. Whether he likes it or not, we’re in this together. Or rather, out of this, together. We cannot get out. But hang on…

“Nothing can get out of here…” I begin to form a coherent thought, but it takes some effort. Witherquin seems all too interested in this thought, but honestly, I cannot read his mind as much as I’d like to try.

“…but what would happen if something else were to come in?”

An intriguing thought, I sprint away from the sporting arena back to the Inferno Launch Chamber. Witherquin offers no response, instead retreating to the lava pool once more. Maybe he has given up, again.

Fiddling with the controls, I try to make some sense of how I can communicate with the Overworld in the absence of a portal.

“Come on! If only I could contact Böshtok or the mayor and explain this situation! They’re probably so frightened right now.”

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“Get back, you fiendish creature! I will destroy you for invading our world!” Mayor Sensha aggressively yells to Enderquin’s imposing form.

“Now, that is not how you speak to your creator.”

Without another word, Mayor Sensha dashes to the cave opening, still quite startled but nevertheless equipped with confidence and vengeance, the sight of his citizens being subjugated to such torture fueling his desire for justice – the same desire that Joey had otherwise haphazardly demonstrated.

Approaching the cave opening, the apprehensive mayor turns to see that the two endermen not only did not pursue him. They are nowhere in sight. Unsure whether to freeze or fight, he slows his breathing a bit, refocusing his attention on the captured villager-turned enderman. He inches out to find her, but much like the endermen, she is nowhere to be found.

None of them are.

Inching out into the quiet plain, Mayor Sensha listens keenly for any similar sounds that might point him in the right direction. Much like the sudden disappearance of the endermen, no further sounds fill the air around him.

“Show yourself, coward!” Mayor Sensha calls out, still knowingly unprepared for a potential attack. His bravery, starkly like Joey’s own arrogance, overshadows his better judgment.

As the frantic mayor begins to ponder whether his senses had been lying to him – a tool of Enderquin’s arsenal he knew well – a sudden grouping of whooshes, at least ten of them in an asynchronous fashion, finally gives him something to notice.

“Remember the bonfires we used to do every seven cycles? I thought we might do another,” one of the endermen projects as they hone in.

“Huh? Ryo?” a befuddled mayor remembers the bonfires well. But the Ryo he knew died long ago.

“We are grateful to see that the Overworld thrives under your leadership, mayor. It will be most satisfying to recreate you.”

Violet, the dreaded illusioner, appears among the crowd as the endermen surround him. The overwhelmed mayor, realizing the cost of his courage, already anticipates what comes next.

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The End gateway underneath Quintropolis Island sits at the center of an excavation site housing various working villagers, but helmed only by one.

“Sir, nothing has come through the portal, yet. It flares every now and then. But pretty silent,” one villager states to the director of the site – none other than Böshtok himself.

“Good,” Böshtok states. “Get everyone ready to make an appearance.”

“Sir?”

“If Joey is in trouble, then it’s time for us to step up. We’re going in.”

“So, are you always this timid?” Arian asks Staz, somewhat aggressively, as the pair arrives at Starlight HQ.

“I’m still figurin’ things out, ya know. But when I saw that thing, whatever that was that used to be Drexel, everything changed. I was scared it might happen to me, too.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it.”

Arian begins towards STAS while Staz heads upstairs. “Whoa,” he exclaims. “Arian, come here!”

“What is it?” Arian annoyingly asks, turning around to meet Staz at the Starlight Station lobby.

“It’s so pretty!!”

Unsure whether to be disappointed or enlightened by Staz’s innocence, Arian gazes about noticeably, trying her best to make sense of yet another nonsensical scenario.

“Staz, notice anything odd about this place?”

“What do ya mean? It’s big – that’s for sure.”

“Of course, you don’t… anyway, I don’t see any endermen here. Wouldn’t this be the first place they would come?”

“Hmm, maybe they already found Joey and he ain’t here.”

Arian motions behind them and focuses her attention onto the Nether Temple. “Or, maybe he is here. Just not on this side.”

“Oh no – I’m not going anywhere near that death trap! Not happening.”

“Damn it, Staz – you really need to get out of that circus prison more. Guarantee you he’s in the Netherworld.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because that’s the only place Enderquin cannot see.”

Arian races downstairs, Staz following close behind. She follows the tunnel that leads into the Nether Temple, examining the state of the structure as she contemplates what must lie on the other side.

“Arian, I don’t feel good about this.”

“Relax, I just want a look,” Arian reassuringly confirms as she then proceeds to the storage room. She opens some of the chests with intent to find something, even if she doesn’t know exactly what.

“Holy hell,” she shouts upon noticing the sheer quantity of items present. “Where on earth does one person get all this?” She slams the chest of Nether brick shut as she storms out of the storage unit. “Let’s go.”

Arian leads Staz into Starlight Castle, where the two take a moment to beguile at the structure’s elegance and outward display of wealth.

“Do you think he mined all these?” Staz asks, gesturing to the diamond blocks.

“I’m more concerned about the overwhelming presence of Enderquin’s favorite color. Why would he build Starlight’s centerpiece modeled after the god that wants to destroy us? Does that not seem suspicious to you?”

“I guess I never really thought about that.”

“You don’t think about a lot, Staz. But you will.”

Arian steps into the center of the Lifeline, beaming brightly with Witherquin’s blessing, and notices openings to other floors within the Starlight. “Staz… head upstairs and see what you can find.”

“Okay… er, what about you?”

“I’m gonna check downstairs first.” Arian begins down the stairwell into Starlight Room, while Staz stands confused. “We’ll cover more ground this way. Now stop standing around and go make yourself useful.”

Defeated, Staz ascends the transport spire in search of something useful, he figures. Arian, having furthered her explorations into the affluent Starlight Room, gazes in awe at the meticulous design and amazed that such a place could exist in their world.

“You didn’t say it was so charming, Joey,” she notes to herself, observing intently at the sparkles radiating off the end rods, contemplating whether it would ever be Joey’s intention for villagers to see this place and the sheer abundance that it could offer them.

Staz, meddling his way towards the top of the spire, notices a map on the third floor.

“Make yourself useful,” he mockingly reiterates, pitifully pouting his way to the map. Observing the map, Staz begins to postulate Joey’s location, though it may never be known how seriously he took that affair.

“Hmm… yeah, okay. Okay, yeah…” he has never looked so deep in thought.

Moving along, he finds discreet excitement in the discovery of the lift spires. “Whoa…”

“ECHO!!” he yells, and indeed his voice bounces off the walls of the cathedral spire. “ECCCCHOOOOO!!” he goes big, which he would prefer over going home.

Arian, deeply involved with the analysis of Joey’s diamond swords, makes haste towards the sound. “What the…?”

“Welcome to the STARLIGHT! We are glad to have YOU!!” Staz gleefully indulges in the playful endeavors of his virtue. “We would like to-“

“Ahem…”

“Oh, hi Arian… what’s up? Find anything useful??!”

“Actually, I did. Yourself?”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that we have access to a map of this fine establishment. I can show you the way if you’d-”

“I saw it on the way up. Anything else? Or are you too busy coddling yourself in the comforts of your echo chamber?”

With a snark grin, Arian walks off. “Hey, wait up!” Staz decides to stop coddling himself, for now anyway.

“What did you find??” he asks curiously, almost as if he really wants to know.

“Answers to questions I didn’t even know to ask.”

Arian leads Staz to investigate the second floor, concluding rather self-righteously that Staz didn’t bother to stop here on the way up.

“Wow, I didn’t know we had such great artists!” he notices.

“And I didn’t know we had such great voice actors.”

Making her way to the library, Arian’s eyes widen with surreal satisfaction. Books and books of knowledge, all tucked neatly in this hidden floor where no other villagers could possibly find it – what secrets would lie inside? What clues would they uncover? What answers would they find, and what questions would they discover? Arian’s relief that this place existed at all finally allowed her to relax a little, as she had been silently pondering whether Starlight had anything at all that could point them in the right direction. And perhaps, because of this, she might also have felt a little proud about having gone against Böshtok’s advice.

“Staz, get up here. We’ve got some work to do.”

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Frantically sifting through my materials at Brimstone Beach, I don’t see ANYTHING that could break the barrier between worlds. Even trying to send a signal through the dimensional rift into the Overworld isn’t possible without a portal. That’s the only way anything crosses the rift! But maybe I don’t need to send a physical object. It’s possible I might be able to affect the Overworld in another way.

Distance increases eight-fold in the Nether, but it is my understanding that time passes at the same pace. If I could somehow load a signal into Aftermath – anything at all that would spawn guardians, then those guardians should travel through the farm and end up right here in the Nether. Meaning that a portal should open for them.

The problem is that I cannot communicate with anybody on the other side who might be able to get to Aftermath and provoke that signal. But I think I have an idea that might stir the pot.

Ender pearls and a minecart in hand, I return to Brimstone Beach and wait for an enderman. I’ve noticed that they appear every now and then, but I remain unsure whether Enderquin can communicate through them in this realm. However, since I know that all endermen are connected to Enderquin’s hive mind, this means that endermen here serve as a direct connection to whatever is currently happening in the Overworld. That’s why I am going to capture one. If I can hurt an enderman here, then it might be enough to disrupt Enderquin’s forces in the Overworld. But I, alone, won’t be able to do much damage.

I wait a while, noticing eventually an enderman not far from the Wither Storm. Entrapping it inside the minecart, I call for Witherquin’s help as the enderman attempts to teleport away. He cannot! Witherquin fires wither skulls at the foul creature, damaging it severely.

“SPEAK, BROTHER.”

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As Violet casts a purple mist into the circle, preparing the ritualistic chant to enact Mayor Sensha’s new fate, the endermen rapidly take damage, teleporting uncontrollably around the area as though a heavy downpour was forcing them to relocate. Violet disappears along with them.

Mayor Sensha takes a moment to reshape his thoughts from accepting his demise, seemingly amazed at the strange sight of Enderquin’s army being attacked by a force he cannot explain. The onslaught lasts only a few seconds longer, before the night silences once again.

Realizing now how quickly Enderquin can change his perception of reality, the mayor sprints across the valley. He grabs a boat from a nearby shed on the way back to the church, carefully evading it to not draw attention in case an enderman is watching.

Unfortunately for this tactic, Jacque notices Sensha and rams the door down to greet him.

“Mayor!! You’re alive!!” he races to hug the mayor, but this greeting is anything but well-received.

“Jacque! You fool! You risk giving up your location! Get back inside, now.”

“What’s going on? You don’t look so good, mayor,” Jacque notes as he observes the mayor’s wide-eyed, almost desperate breathing patterns. The boat doesn’t make things look any better, either.

“And, uh, what are you doing with that?”

“I need to get to the Inner Circle. You need to stay safe!”

“Mayor!!” Jacque calls as the newly determined mayor races off to the chunk border. It remains unclear to Jacque what exactly has driven Sensha’s collected courage to recklessness, but it is clear he gathered something that warrants Böshtok’s attention.

Ibram returns to the clubhouse, only slightly surprised that Böshtok is not there.

“Guess he finally decided to do something,” he notes with the slightest smirk as he puts the coverless book back in the chest of many. Irritated that none of the books held any clues, he quickly transitions into the offensive as he hears frantic footsteps through the grass outside, pulling a sword from the arsenal and drawing it towards the door.

A boisterous knock at the door startles Ibram such that he drops the sword almost concurrently as the mayor breaks through the door. Ibram, unsure whether this is the mayor or some kind of illusion conjured by the sky god, picks up the sword and backs up to the wall.

“Ibram, what is this? What are you doing?” Mayor Sensha holds his hands up.

“Mayor, are you good? You seem a little off,” Ibram maintains a solid distance, the sword still pointed to the mayor.

“I saw something. A poor villager turned into an enderman. They are us, and we are becoming part of him.”

Ibram lowers his sword, his demeanor shifting marginally as Mayor Sensha drops his hands. “So, you know about the hive mind theory,” he concludes.

“It’s real. I saw it with my own eyes. Ryo spoke to me! Wait… where’s Böshtok?”

“I figured he was with you.”

Mayor Sensha starts to panic again, but he keeps his composure.

“Ibram, we need to keep track of everyone. There was something else…”

“What?”

“Well… when they were about to turn me into one of them, they all stopped. They started taking damage – all of them. Randomly. It’s a miracle, truly.”

“What do you mean? Taking damage? How?”

“I don’t know! Just like, you know, getting hurt by some exterior force. I didn’t see anything attack them. They just started teleporting around like rabbits!”

“It’s Joey,” Ibram is quick to respond. “If they are all connected, then someone, somewhere, is fighting Enderquin right now. Has to be Joey.”

“From where??” the mayor asks much more assertively. Ibram connects the dots in his head, considering that perhaps Böshtok’s final message to Joey was actually a set of directions.

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“IT IS NOT ENOUGH.” Witherquin kills the trapped enderman, and I am unsure whether it did anything at all other than **** him off. We need to find more.

Capturing another enderman, I guide the demons to destroy it without allowing it to teleport away. As Witherquin attacks them, I begin feeling discomfort in my own body. As though the attacks impact me just as well. That doesn’t bode well.

Witherquin stops attacking the endermen.

“SOMETHING IS DIFFERENT.”

In the distance, I see… I see… a villager! Do my eyes deceive me? It’s possible – Enderquin might have more power in this realm than I previously supposed. In either case, it’s obvious that I need to verify for certain.

Leaving Witherquin, who I suspect would not treat the villager with care, I realize that it’s not just any villager. It’s Ibram!

“Ibram! Over here!!” I call out as he looks in this direction.

“Joey!”

“What are you doing here?? HOW did you get here?”

“We followed the signal. How did you get here?”

“Long story – I’ve been stuck here trying to find a way out. Enderquin put some kind of curse on me.”

“So, the attack… it wasn’t you?”

“Well, that’s complicated…” both of us look back towards Witherquin’s demons which are mindlessly patrolling the area. “Let’s just say I formed an unlikely alliance. Are you able to get me out of here?”

“I hope so, otherwise we’re both doomed.”

Ibram takes me back to the portal he came through, and I let out a sigh of relief on seeing that the portal is lit.

“I should probably fill you in on what’s going on up there,” he notes as we travel through.

The sky is bright and glistening with optimistic energy. It’s the first time I have seen the sun in a long time. The feeling of its warmth on my skin once again – only now can I find the appreciation for such subtleties. They mean everything to me.

Two villagers approach me in the clubhouse, but Ibram is not among them.

“Hello, Joey San. How are you today?” asks Böshtok. He doesn’t even seem surprised to see me.

“You know you can just call me Joey… we’ve been over this.”

“Joey San, can we get you anything?” asks Staz, ignoring what I just said.

“I’m good thanks… are you guys good? Where is the mayor? Has anyone been hurt??”

“Joey San, how about some tea? We can get you Maker’s finest concoction,” Böshtok continues, again ignoring my questions. “We’re here to help.”

“What?! Stop this nonsense, Böshtok.”

“Please, let us get you some tea, Joey San,” Staz’s voice begins to split into many, each echoing at a different frequency.

“Joey San, we have so many gifts for you,” continues the voice, which is now unrecognizable.

“What are you- AHH! GET AWAY!” I scream as they turn into zombies. I race outside the clubhouse and hop on the train to Starlight HQ. This is madness!!

“Come back, Joey San. We have gifts for you.”

Approaching Starlight, I hop out and race to the treehouse, only to find the entire area infested with endermen, the sun trading places with darkness. And the iron farm roof is eroding away, like a rotten apple. Unprovoked, all of them stare towards me, temporarily paralyzing me until I realize that I have flight.

But I can’t take off.

“What the? Where are my wings??” They’re gone. In fact, I have no armor at all.

A dragon spawns over the iron farm, and a swarm of angry endermen chases me.

As I escape into the water, heading downstairs, villagers start pouring out from the wall, mindlessly and without any obvious source. It’s actually quite horrific.

“Joey San, let us continue to feed your farms. Let us be your sustenance.”

“What is this nightmare??!”

“Everything you ever wanted,” Enderquin’s conscious voice emerges, a growling vocoded chorus of many.

“You wanted to have it all. To be a leader. To be a god. I am giving you those things now.”

“This is not what I want!” I race back outside to face Enderquin. “Show yourself!”

That’s not exactly what I meant.

Laying out the maps, Ibram and Mayor Sensha observe the waypoints while intermittently checking for endermen outside, the sun rising after a blistering night.

“So, the aftermath that the trader was referring to could very well be the location where the Secret of Stonewall was fulfilled,” Ibram narrates, after which he receives a jarring look from the mayor, who knows all too well that the myth was nothing more than a ruse.

“Oh, right… I mean, the place where we thought the Secret of Stonewall was fulfilled.” Again, he receives a jolting look.

“I mean, the place where JOEY blindly misinterpreted everything about that document and unleashed demons from hell, which is probably what got Enderquin’s attention in the first place.”

“That’s better,” the satisfied mayor affirms, looking back to the map.

“He called that peninsula ‘Aftermath,’ and I can only presume that’s because of the damage caused by the withers he unleashed there.”

“Not a bad theory,” the mayor concedes. “It still doesn’t explain why he isn’t here now, or how he could harm Enderquin from there. What’s his play?”

“I haven’t figured that out. Not from this, not from any of these books,” Ibram gestures to the chest of books he had been cycling through.

“Everyone else has run off to God knows where… they always leave me out of everything.” Frustrated, Ibram retreats to the fireplace.

The mayor takes another look at the map, still listening carefully for any endermen outside. He looks solemnly upon Ibram, wondering whether this council he put together was worth the effort. They had so far proven to be anything but a team.

“You know, back before I became the mayor, I was a farmer,” he walks to Ibram and sits by the fireplace. “I farmed potatoes, carrots – not beets, though. We didn’t have much of a market for those at the time. But each day, I would trade those products with the clerics, the masons, and the butchers. My plot wasn’t very big, and usually other farmers had much more to offer. I would watch them trade hundreds of vegetables at a time, compared to the measly twenty or so I would offer. Made me feel like a lost cause.”

“So how did you overcome that?”

“Oh, I didn’t. Nope – lost my entire plot, was even stripped from my status as a farmer. I became a nitwit. However, I had something that the others did not. Foresight. I could see the issues rampaging our community. I noticed when things were not agreeable among the villages. One day, two of the villages got into a bit of a scramble over land. Things got a little dicey. I had a self-imbued task of fostering a peaceful resolution, even if I no longer had a job among the community.”

“How did you do it?”

“Nope, didn’t do that, either. They fought; people died. It was ugly… But after that, I offered a solution so that nobody else would have to die. A solution nobody asked for. But it was one that would have prevented a war in the first place, and the mayor at that time knew it. I had the kind of foresight they needed to prevent a war. That was my superpower, and that’s my point.”

“…that I should have tried harder to prevent an all-powerful god from reigning chaos out of nowhere?”

“No, no that’s not…” Mayor Sensha shakes his head. “I offered something valuable to the community they didn’t realize they needed. I focused on my strength, which was not in farming, but rather diplomacy. You have a strength, too. Figure out what it is and lean into that. Maybe it’s a superpower that we don’t realize we need.”

Ibram smiles, then continues to look down at the floor.

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Arian and Staz diligently study the books on display in the library, looking specifically for those which might highlight clues relevant to Enderquin’s plan. Only the sounds of pages flipping, the occasional footstep, and wood creaking are heard, and while Arian is all too comfortable, Staz constantly looks over waiting for her to say something. Maybe he just isn’t used to hard work.

“So, uh, here’s a book I found,” he looks over at Arian, pulling a random one off the shelf. The awkward silence must have been unbearable.

“What’s that?” Arian asks half interested, still involved in the book she is reading.

“It’s called, uh, Dad Jokes.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Arian whispers to herself.

A few moments go by; Arian rightfully presumes that Staz has already moved on from that silly venture.

“Without geometry, life is pointless!”

Arian looks over at Staz, who very adamantly did not move on from that venture.

“I’m reading a book on the history of glue – can’t put it down,” he continues.

“Are you serious?” Arian, looking as disgusted as ever, can no longer focus on her reading.

“What do you call a sheep with no legs? A CLOUD!” Staz, more than amused, flips the page. Arian sighs in contempt.

“A duck walks into a pharmacy and says, ‘give me some chap-stick, and put it on my bill!’”

“Okay, that one wasn’t bad…” Arian admits.

“What’s a pharmacy?” Staz asks himself.

Arian walks over and takes the book from Staz. “No more dad jokes. You should consider moving to a different section,” she suggests, trying very hard to maintain patience.

“Fine…” Staz heads to the back, intrigued by the enchanting table. He notices the shelf of Quintropolis tales, and decides to have a look, even if his comprehension of such ancient books may be slightly less established than that of his comrades.

“Wonder what this one is about,” he notes, sifting across an old letter, Ode to Betsy. “Arian, know anyone named Betsy?”

“For God’s sake!” she yells impatiently, putting down her book and joining Staz in the back. Leaning against the bookshelf, her answer to his question is little more than a discerning expression of displeasure.

“How did you get this job?” she asks, almost seriously.

“I was born in the clubhouse. To Böshtok. And Drexel, too.”

“How does… you know what, I don’t even want to know… What is this chest, anyway?” She shifts her attention away from Staz’s questionable origins to the interesting nature of the books in this corner.

“Yeah, there’s lots of cool stuff in here!” Staz exclaims, mishandling the books, almost tearing a few.

“Be careful with those! The goal is to be discreet – it’s not like we want Joey to know someone destroyed all his ****.”

“Right, sorry…”

Arian checks out some of the tales in this chest, many of which are books that Joey, himself, found and used as a roadmap, including the Mystery of the Endermen, Secret of Stonewall, and the Relics of Enderquin.

“Would you look at that…” she responds, reading the Relics. “The gauntlet thrives with infinite lives.”

“What did you say?” Staz’s alarm goes off, and his curiosity turns to panic. He stands from the chest, backing against the wall, his breathing becoming increasingly heavier.

“Staz, what the hell? Are you okay?” Arian, unaware of the mantra’s weight, stands to reassure Staz that she is in control of herself. She gives Staz the book. “Look here.”

Staz, cautiously taking the book from Arian, observes the poetry at a glance.

“That’s what it says,” Arian claims, and Staz confirms this fact just moments later. His shock lessens as he moves to a sigh of disbelief.

Theorizing in his mind how Drexel would have even known about this poetry, his overarching carefree attitude almost instantly vanishes as he explores the other books Arian pulled aside, notably Mystery of the Endermen. Arian, silently respecting Staz’s recognitions without overtly understanding them, lets Staz do what he needs to do.

“He already knew everything that would happen,” Staz gloomily reports as he reads Mystery of the Endermen. “Joey knew everything before it happened.”

“That’s why we need to stop him,” Arian asserts.

Staz reaches into the chest, hoping to find something more useful than information they mostly already know. “How ‘bout this one?” he asks, dusting off what appears to be a much older book at the bottom of the chest.

Arian collects the old book, noticing the cover, The Call of Qletlna.

“Ever heard of this?” Staz asks.

“Not even a mention.”

Arian opens the book carefully, together with Staz indulging in the archaic but still strangely modernized poetry.

Spread of silence, twice in the cycle. It waits.

Rabbits caught timely in the tide pool. It hates.

Bees abroad branches, birds bury bait.

Foxes fight feathers, freedom fears fate.

Tethered in a well of thoughtful desires,

The cry of a ghastly ghoul in the fires.

It waits. It hates. Scorch in the sky.

The wish of a wading whisper gone awry.

The lake lifts the jungle, the spirit sings with glee.

Temple faces tempest, all things joyfully.

When flight turns to fight, the storm listens close.

Valleys brew puddles, movement morose.

Fires and flashes, floods in the well.

The elements dance more than before.

A score and a snake, meet far beyond the lake.

The waters crash through the door.

“What does it mean?” Staz, himself barely paying attention to the text, asks of Arian. He suspects she probably already knows everything about this document, anyway.

“I don’t have the slightest clue… but Böshtok might.”

Arian hears a noise outside, almost like a tree uprooting, except that no audible storm or tremor would have caused it. “Come on,” she states, leading Staz out of the library with The Call of Qletlna in her inventory.

As she and Staz race out of Starlight Castle, they are met with an unwelcome surprise at the door.

“Going somewhere?” Violet asks, her mangled voice meeting Arian with uncomfortable satisfaction.

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Trying my best to avoid falling debris, I rush back through the flood of villagers in the Power Museum looking for a way out of this maze. The mindless villagers mutter about but with no clear speech. I wonder if the MISC can help me out.

I go to create a link to lock down the base, but it doesn’t work. The glowstone is locked.

“What’s going on?” I ask myself.

Racing down to check out the redstone, what greets me is nothing short of catastrophic.

“GET OUT!” My mind works to fight what I believe is a hallucination, but I… I can’t be sure. I don’t know what the real Overworld should be like right now if this is not it. “You are not welcome here!!”

I fall through the wreckage, finding myself lost in the redstone which has already broken entirely apart. All my hard work. Gone. Everything I built for them. Gone. Like it never even happened at all.

“I can see you,” he states. “I can sense your fear.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” I respond impatiently. “You can’t hurt me in here.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

I navigate the redstone passageways trying to find a backdoor into some system, but to be truthful, I don’t know what I am looking for. Maybe I am not looking for anything at all. Perhaps it is just a ruse built to mask my lack of control. Perhaps, I am pretending to dive deeper into a search for escape as a last-ditch effort to stay strong in the eyes of a condescending creature.

“I want to free you.”

“From myself, I’m guessing? Not gonna happen,” I jump through the wires and find a pathway I remember digging out long ago. I was building MISC links down here, but the redstone is fragmented now. Bits and pieces – I’d never be able to reassemble everything.

“Don’t you see? We are one.”

“Stop trying to convince me that I’m somehow the same as you. You can’t control me like you do them.”

“Can’t I?”

“I’m only here because you know I’m stronger than you thought. That’s why you won’t let me into the real Overworld.”

“Perceptive. Let me add that to my notes…”

“That’s why you locked me in the Nether at all!”

“Is that what I did? Were you locked down there?”

“It must have been a move of desperation for you. That you were so afraid of what I could do that you had to shut me out completely.”

“Your greatest weakness deceives you again. I cannot manipulate portals. Only fear – something you already know.”

“But, you did, though,” I conclude, bewildered at Enderquin’s comments. “You cursed me from being able to escape. Now I don’t even know where I am.”

“Tell me. Did you ever try to enter a portal? Or did you simply accept that you could not see it? Perhaps, it is your own fear of me which kept you sedated under the spell of denial.”

“Your mind games won’t work anymore,” I outwardly exclaim, despite the fact that I never did try to enter a portal. They didn’t light – I know they didn’t. He’s just playing games with me. He knows that I know that he is playing games with me.

“Don’t be so sensitive, Joey San. Look at the bigger picture.”

I look around, but I can’t see much beyond all the stone. I suppose Enderquin could choose to show me the bigger picture, just like he did with Violet, but I guess that choice is not up to me.

“You are a product of your environment. But your environment is nothing except a garbage dump hidden from the true paradise I can create.”

“Don’t let your selfish interests get in the way of all that is intended to be.”

“I can’t help it,” I confess. “My selfish interests are the only hope they have to be safe from you.”

Enderquin growls, understandably so, as my stubbornness prevents me from being capable of giving into his mind games. It does not matter whether his intentions are “bigger” or whether they fall into the “means to an end” category relevant to his revenge path against Sentien and the other gods. This is my world. And I’m going to protect it the best I can.

Following the underground pathway, a strange mist appears where stone used to be. I slap myself, even though I know all too well that I’m inside a vivid hallucination. A dream world. It should not be here.

He wants me to jump inside. That’s why he put it there.

“Nice try.”

“You think you have a choice?”

The dragon has already destroyed all my redstone, clusters of stone cascading above me, effectively trapping me underground. With every choice I make inside this twisted simulation of my world, he forces me into another. It’s a chess game in which I am the pawn trying to usurp the queen.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he starts as I ponder at the cosmic mist, rocks crashing down all around me.

“If you beat me again, I will let you out. Again.”

What a way to get inside my head.

“We are grateful for your courage, Arian. It will be most satisfying to recreate you.”

“Cut the ****, gravel gurgler.” Arian draws a sword she pulled from the arsenal downstairs. “What will be most satisfying, is what I’m about to do to your dumb ass outfit.”

Staz retreats to the steps. Violet lifts her arms, summoning an initial attack. But Arian dodges the attack, sending a sword straight to Violet’s chest.

A quick spell by Violet sends Arian into confusion as her vision becomes severely impaired. As she begins to get hit with arrows, she swings her sword almost aimlessly, unable to find Violet.

“Got anymore wise comments?”

“Yeah,” Arian gets a hit on Violet, forcing her to use the cloning spell. “Your dimension sucks.”

Arian uses an ender pearl, hiding herself in the castle beams to regain strength. She waits for the blindness to wear off, sneaking behind the Lifeline and watching closely for any endermen in the area that would give away her location.

“Come out, and play with me, Arian. Do you think I can’t already see you?”

Arian sneaks around to another beam, well aware of Enderquin’s mind games, knowing all too well that he cannot see her. But a complication arises when endermen begin teleporting into the castle.

“Got you, now.”

Arian attacks the enderman, using her pearls to evade Enderquin and Violet’s attacks. She realizes that Violet cannot see her, having regained enough health, and draws another pearl to finish the job.

“Recover from this, *****.”

She delivers the final blow to Violet, severing Enderquin’s ability to cast the spells necessary to change villagers into endermen. The endermen disappear, as Staz pops out from underneath the floor.

“One day, you’ll learn to fight like that,” she reassures Staz, but his reaction does not suggest he wants to.

Arian puts away her sword, swiftly making for the entrance to make some sense of the landscape.

The grounds around Starlight Castle greet her almost theatrically so, with hordes of endermen appearing and dragons spawning in the sky. They roar and soar, triggering flashes of lightning and shockwaves of thunder across the ground. It’s almost too much to bear the sight of. Instead of reacting in discomfort, Arian’s confusion manifests through scowling at the melodramatic display of Enderquin’s power – as though he should be embarrassed at trying to amuse her so desperately.

The sudden flood of elder guardians makes no sense to her, and upon seeing these, she immediately rebukes the sight of this extravagant mess.

“No,” she states, and the hallucination vanishes almost as immediately.

She ponders for a moment, partly relieved at the inability of Enderquin to grasp onto her mind as easily as the others. Perhaps it is the first attempt he has made to control Arian, but this attempt, it seems, had failed.

Upon further reflection, she smiles. “He can’t control me,” she declares to herself, internally hypothesizing new ways they might be able to save the others. She turns back to Staz, repeating her declaration in excitement, only to be met with a sword pointing straight at her. She holds up her hands, her smile fading, as she steps towards Staz.

“Staz, what is this…”

“Stay BACK! I’m not afraid to use this!!” he yells, shaking but still aware of his surroundings.

“Staz, you’re seeing things, right? You know you can’t hurt me with that.”

“You trickster! It was always you!! Making me think Drexel was dead!”

Arian raises an eyebrow, wondering whether Staz sees Drexel in her place. “Staz, you need to rebuke this! Don’t let him beat you!”

“Enough talking!” Staz takes a step to Arian, his diamond sword still pointing at her chest. “Let’s see who has infinite lives, now!!”

“I swear, when I find you, I’m gonna rip you apart,” she quietly states to herself, referring of course to Joey, who she continues to condemn for this chaos. Intently, she runs at Staz, who tries but fails to attack her with the sword. Arian reclaims the sword, pointing it back at Staz, who falls to the floor still anxiously frozen in place. “Do it,” he says, which produces a solemn reaction from Arian. She decides to change strategies.

“You imbecile!” she yells at Staz. “I can’t believe I got stuck with an ill-witted, flower frolicking chicken ****, with the attention span of a restless rabbit trapped inside the body of a walking jukebox whose music discs are routinely shattered and burned because its sheep-screeching voice tears into the spirit of the hopeless souls who have to listen to it.”

Staz awkwardly looks around, very perplexed but no longer shaking so fiercely. Arian puts the sword down, instead lending her hand to Staz.

“Tell me – would Drexel be capable of insulting you so deeply?”

After a moment of consideration, Staz accepts Arian’s hand, standing and seeing her once again instead of Drexel. Processing these events, he stares profoundly into Arian’s soul, reaching his hands out to her face to make sure it’s really her.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she disregards these efforts, walking to the backdoor of Starlight Castle.

“Did you really mean all that, though?” Staz follows Arian to the back.

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I jump through the mist which lands me onto an obsidian platform surrounded by eight beacons. I’m back in Enderquin’s homeland.

“Welcome back, Joey San. Did you miss me?”

“I’m going to end you.”

“Ha, I see what you did there.”

Mists begin emerging from the ground as beams blast onto each of the obsidian towers, one at a time, each one producing a new end crystal.

“I want you to know that you have my utmost respect, Joey San. For a child, you exhibit uncanny bravery. It will be most satisfying to try recreating you.”

“Not nearly as satisfying as it will be for me to watch you die.”

“Your arrogance has always betrayed you; it is your true enemy. Now, I give you a chance to fight it.”

The crystals converge in the sky as a new dragon spawns above me, causing a shockwave across the island. This one should be easy to kill, because now we both have the power of flight.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, or why you are staging this little play. But you would be wise not to underestimate me,” I declare as I soar through the sky, making child’s play out of Enderquin’s crystals of chaos. It is nothing to me now.

“Don’t forget whose game you have been playing since the day you spawned.”

“There is no such thing as fate. I write my own destiny!”

Enderquin laughs.

“Sure, you do. Now go on – kill the dragon.”

That was no trouble at all. The better half of my judgment says that Enderquin is playing a much deeper game; I already know this. What I cannot determine is why he continues to stall me. He is keeping me from entering the real Overworld, but I’ll find a way out. It’s all inside my head, after all. This much, I have determined.

Jumping through the exit portal, I find myself in a slight conundrum.

I am back on the obsidian platform. Mists begin emerging from the ground as beams blast onto each of the obsidian towers, one at a time, each one producing a new end crystal. The crystals converge in the sky as… Wait… I’ve said this already. This happened, already.

“Welcome back, Joey San. Did you miss me?”

“Wha- What?”

“I said: did you miss me?”

“You said you would let me out!”

“I also said you needed to beat me, first.”

A new dragon spawns just as it did before. I claim the crystals just as I did before. I destroy the dragon just as I did before. The beaming lights in the sky have become commonplace – not a sign of triumph, but rather a reminder that triumph continues to elude me.

Jumping through the exit portal, I find myself in a slight conundrum.

I am back on the obsidian platform. Mists begin emerging from the ground as beams blast onto each of the obsidian towers, one at a time, each one producing a… a…

“Go on. Finish your narration, Joey San. This is your story, after all.”

Producing a… new end crystal. The crystals converge in the sky as… Something is wrong here.

“You’re full of tricks! I had gotten out of your little gauntlet of games.”

“You have only walked down the road I paved. And still, you continue to wade in troubled waters, the depths of which you know not.”

“What have you done with Ibram?!”

“Humans… it’s amazing how easy you are to manipulate.”

This is a conundrum.

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Hearing a crash outside the clubhouse, Mayor Sensha jumps at the opportunity to see if anyone had been hurt. His instinctual response, as always, drives him to protect. He does not notice any endermen outside, nor does he hear any distress signals beyond the Inner Circle. But his paranoia remains in control, and he retreats within the clubhouse.

“Stay away from that balcony,” he firmly instructs Ibram, who is getting all too close to the outside world.

“What’s wrong? I’ve been running around all day.”

“You don’t understand… he can teleport anywhere. He can be anywhere.”

The dissatisfied mayor watches from the windows, waiting for the blue-robed figure to appear again, constantly turning back towards Ibram to prevent any surprise appearances that Enderquin might attempt. Ibram, noticing the mayor’s fearful behavior, kicks his sword over to the window. The mayor looks back at the sword, a bit puzzled, but accepting of the weapon regardless.

“Better to be prepared, right?” Ibram asks, and the mayor agrees.

An extended screech somewhere outside surprises both of them, however it is not clear whether it was a person or some type of metallic object.

“Ibram, stay on guard. I’ve heard this sound before,” he instructs, but Ibram does not offer a response. “Ibram?”

Turning around, Ibram is gone. His heart dropping from his chest, Mayor Sensha picks up the sword and sneaks to where he was standing. Wind begins picking up outside while faint thunder resonates in the far distance. Temperatures drop as chills flood the clubhouse, the lights losing power as an uncanny presence fills the air.

“I know what you’re doing,” the mayor calls out, seemingly aware that he is now in a hallucination. “I know your tricks,” he whispers. Suddenly, the lights turn back on, which startles the poised mayor. The door opens as Ibram returns, shivering slightly.

“Seems a storm is in the distance – the lights never go out like that,” he notes nonchalantly. “I got ‘em fixed up, though.”

Mayor Sensha lowers his sword, but not his guard, as Ibram returns to warm up near the fireplace. He wonders whether this is really Ibram, this time preparing for the trick instead of hiding from it.

“Ibram… what did you tell the others? Why aren’t they here?” his superpower of foresight begins to kick in as he suspects something is not right.

“What do you mean?”

“You said it was a map. How would you know that?”

“Well, I-“

“Have you been there once before?” The mayor raises his voice, in a subtle interrogating manner.

“Mayor, please, it’s my job to know these things.”

“You didn’t go outside to fix the lights. You were signaling someone,” the mayor holds up his sword in defense. Ibram, anxious as ever, backs away to the fireplace.

“Mayor, you have been erratic. You’re not okay.”

“I should’ve known that he would come for you next. I’m such a fool not to see it.”

This comment confuses Ibram, furthering his assertion that the mayor was in no position to make rational decisions about their next moves.

“Mayor, please listen to me. We couldn’t risk you knowing…”

“Risk me knowing… what?”

It would seem that the two were raising completely different narratives, though only one had drawn a weapon as a means to the end of that narrative.

“Böshtok knew you wouldn’t approve,” Ibram holds up his hands, fearful but hopeful that the clearly terrified, dissatisfied mayor would lower his weapon. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen.

“I offered to help, but he insisted that the footprint around the portal was minimal,” Ibram continues, though only now does Mayor Sensha begin to understand what Ibram is talking about.

“You… you’re leading an army into that place.”

“Well, no, not me, technically.”

“You have NO idea what he is capable of!” Mayor Sensha shouts, shakily but fiercely as he takes a step closer to Ibram, sword still pointed.

“This is not the council I put together!!”

Ibram looks upon Mayor Sensha with such despondency, balanced with faith in Böshtok yet still a slimmer of shame. After all, it is exactly this sly behavior which prompted Mayor Sensha to keep tabs on Joey’s whereabouts in the first place. Now, it would seem that everyone had gone off the rails, though in this case that meant a form of betrayal against the one person determined to keep everything running smoothly. It was his job, after all.

Mayor Sensha lowers his sword, his face boiling with both sadness and rage as he studies Ibram, attempting to discern why he and the others would deliberately behave so mischievously.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he delicately responds, the rage turned to hopelessness as he just walks out of the clubhouse, disappearing from the Inner Circle with not a care in the world.

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Arian and Staz venture to Starlight Outback, where Arian takes an immediate interest in the chorus fruit plants that she notices in the distance.

“Staz… check out the treehouse. I’m going to head back there and see what I can find.”

“Okie dokie… well just don’t eat any of those.”

“Thanks for the helpful advice.”

Setting foot in Vax Valley, Arian sees a librarian near the furnaces who is taking notes in a book. She does not perceive a threat, but she is also keenly aware that chorus fruits are central to the mayor’s interests. Approaching the librarian, Arian tries not to be startling.

“Excuse me,” Arian calmly asks, but the librarian nearly drops her book in surprise. “It’s okay,” Arian holds her hands up, keeping her distance.

“I’m not a threat. Just here to find answers.”

“Well, join the club,” the startled librarian agrees, readjusting her book and continuing to write as though nobody approached her at all. She returns to ignoring Arian completely, fully immersed in her notes. Arian, unsure whether to be offended or simply bewildered, lowers her hands and takes a step closer.

“Umm,” Arian looks around. “Aren’t you gonna ask what I want?”

“Beg your pardon?” The librarian looks up from her book, visibly annoyed at being interrupted again.

“I just mean, well, you probably didn’t expect to see other people here,” Arian figures. The librarian shrugs and returns to her book.

“What are you writing about?” Arian takes a step closer, but the librarian promptly closes the book. She looks up at Arian but makes no attempt at conversation.

“Okay, then. Can you at least tell me your name?”

“It’s Greta,” she answers, then walks away into the chorus fruit garden. Arian’s irritation intensifies as much as her patience dwindles, given the events she and Staz had recently endured. She pursues Greta into the garden.

“Look, I understand you’re probably busy with whatever the hell this is, but I’ve had a long, aggravating day. And I’m not a big fan of the ‘guess-who-it-is’ bullsh*t. So, respectfully, I need you to tell me what’s going on here,” Arian demands firmly, gesturing to the chorus fruits.

Greta adjusts her glasses.

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Treading alone through the jungle on Quintropolis Island, Mayor Sensha encounters a strange group of critters making odd sounds. They hiss and sniff the ground, but they make no attempts to harass the mayor. In fact, they barely seem to notice his presence at all.

“What on earth? Where did you come from??” he approaches the mutated bugs, clearly concerned. The close sound of his footsteps scares the critters away, but that only amplifies their ambient noises throughout the entire jungle. Looking around, with a much sharper eye, the mayor observes the overwhelming presence of the bugs, dropping his sword in disbelief.

“Mayor!! Help me!!” a concerned citizen calls out while running down the road. At a closer glance, Mayor Sensha sees what he is running from.

Picking up his sword, armed with the courage of a curious explorer, he freezes in his tracks when he realizes the size of the swarm scurrying straight for him.

Readying his sword, he charges to the swarm, attacking the bugs with all his might, only to be overpowered by the sheer mass of leeches from every direction. They bite and they fight, but the mayor refuses to surrender.

“You WILL not see this world, Enderquin!! You won’t see it!!”

The mayor drowns in the abyss of purple pests which promise to engulf him, yet he never gives up the fight down to his last breath. The distressed citizen gasps in shock as the pests leave no trace, but it isn’t long until he makes haste towards the Inner Circle.

“Mayor Sensha is obsessed with gods,” Greta confesses to Arian in the garden, deliberately taking notes in her journal. “He always believed that their behavior towards us was mostly a reaction of their relationship with one another.”

“Doesn’t explain why Enderquin seems to enjoy toying with us so much.”

“Sure it does,” Greta corrects Arian. “We are a product of them. We were made by them. To him, it’s like spilling water on a painting done by your enemy, but not all at once – just drops at a time, watching the canvas gradually bleed with imperfections.”

“How do we preserve the painting?”

“Keep it locked away, I guess,” Greta chuckles. She walks to the other end of the chorus fruit garden.

“What’s the fixation with these fruits, anyway? Do they really taste that godly?” Arian mockingly asks.

“Don’t be silly,” Greta retorts. “These fruits don’t belong here. The chorus fruit god never intended for it.”

“Come again?” Arian questions in skepticism.

“Taravax created the fruits to represent the perfect sustenance – the embodiment of fertile harmony for all living things,” Greta explains.

“Somewhere, harmony took a left turn, and Enderquin got his hands on them. Determining what he did to them might tell us about their origin beyond his realm, and our world’s history as a whole.”

“Ah, so you’re another one of those history nuts who still believes ancient stories.” Arian shrugs it off.

“Seems you’re not far off, yourself,” Greta gestures to The Call of Qletlna, which she must have noticed a while ago.

“Oh, what? You know about this book or something?”

“I haven’t deciphered it entirely… but I do know about Qletlna’s interest in the Quinn Zodiac.”

“The what now?”

“It’s humorous, really,” Greta laughs. “Always the god of fire who is quick to the path of destruction.” Arian doesn’t share Greta’s relaxed attitude, perhaps unsurprisingly.

“Arian!!” their conversation is interrupted by an all too excited Staz yelling from the treehouse. “You’ve gotta see this!!” Greta looks up to Staz, likely shocked by how one person could be so excited about anything.

Convening in the treehouse, Staz brings them into one of the two map rooms, entirely oblivious to the fact that Arian is joined by someone new.

“Isn’t this place so cool?? I could totally live up in here. Anyway, come in here!” he gestures to the adventure map. Arian and Greta cooperate, but not with nearly as much enthusiasm.

“Remember what Böshtok said to Joey before he got lost? What was it exactly… something about guilt and aftermath?”

“Yeah, yeah – the walls of your guilt will find closure in the aftermath,” Arian validates.

“Well, I think we have our answer,” Staz points to Aftermath on the map.

Arian takes a step to the waypoint, her lack of enthusiasm transitioning seamlessly into concern.

“That’s in Stonewall Territory,” she notes.

“Well, allegedly, it is,” Greta adds. “To be fair, our understanding of those boundaries is limited to what we know of the region’s history.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever. Sure, my point being, that if this is where Joey is, then he isn’t safe. Why would Enderquin direct him back to the very place he first unleashed a fury of Witherquin’s demons?”

“Perhaps, Enderquin knows Joey’s greatest fear. That’s what he uses against us.”

“And what would that be?”

“Failure. As a leader.”

“Please… leader? Come on, with all your knowledge, you still believe that he has led us??” Arian moves about the treehouse, joined by Greta, while Staz’s fervor morphs into muted observation – a similar role, perhaps, that he played at the Council Clubhouse.

“You speak as though he has done something terrible,” Greta answers.

“Yeah, look around us. Enderquin is only here because Joey’s ignorance led him to whatever ancient stories he wanted so much to believe in.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to that conclusion…” Greta retrieves a nether star from her bag. “Enderquin was always prophesied to come. His war on humanity, according to our ancestors, was inevitable. We all did this. Together.”

Greta gives the nether star to Arian. “Don’t think that Joey could have unleashed Enderquin without the help of others. Curiosity plagues us all – I mean, it’s why we’re here, now.”

Arian, still surprised by the presence of a nether star outside the context of war, quietly puts it away in her inventory.

“How many people know about this?” Arian asks.

“About what?”

“About… all of this. Enderquin. The chorus fruits. Ancient myths and **** like that.”

“Danger always follows the path of the curious. Or, in our case, we follow the danger.” Greta chuckles. “Mayor Sensha came up with that one… he only knows about these things, but not by indulging in such reading as I have. He took in a strange wanderer who knew about them. I think her name was Violet.”

“Oh, well, she’s dead now.”

“What?” A concerned Greta shows a sign of worry – one of the first expressions of emotion she has so far presented.

“She wasn’t whoever you think she was. Not anymore. Enderquin got to her, differently. She can change people into endermen. Or could, rather. I finished her off in the castle over there.”

“No,” Greta responds. “That’s not possible… she was our only link.”

“Link to what?”

“Everything.”

A wandering trader arrives at the treehouse, blowing a horn. Greta leaves, knowing that the call is for her.

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“Think about their quality of life. Think about what you’re taking from them,” Enderquin tries to convince me that somehow, I am the enemy.

I try to conjure other ways of killing him, thinking that perhaps the perfect weapon just hasn’t yet been utilized. But it’s all a joke to him. He created this fantasy as a way to mock me. Well, it won’t work. I already know all his tricks.

“I am their protector. From you.”

Of course, as I say that, I start to see villagers popping up from the island’s entrance. Namely, Böshtok sprints out from underneath, probably trying to make sense of this place. That would be a wasted endeavor.

“Joey!!” he yells. I’ve been fooled before, and I won’t let it happen again. Going to face Böshtok, or rather this illusion of him, I’m not letting Enderquin continue to distract me. I will escape the gauntlet.

I go for an attack on Böshtok, who dodges me. “Joey, it’s me!! Böshtok! Are you mad??”

“You can’t control me anymore. I’ve already beaten your little game.”

“What are you talking about?”

I get a hit on Böshtok, which elicits an aggressive response from the other villagers who form a circle around him.

“What is this?” I ask, confused at why Enderquin would illustrate such an exaggerated display. I turn and face the dragon once more. “Very funny tricks!”

“Incredible,” Enderquin observes. “You don’t even know your own friends.”

“Joey, I’m real,” Böshtok emerges from the circle. “And we’re here to help.”

“Sure you are,” I go in for the kill, but Böshtok presents one of Maker’s finest concoctions – the same splash potions I always prepared to cure them. Halting my attack, I become trapped in a conflict once more between not knowing whether this is the Böshtok with whom I’d become friends, who somehow knew exactly how and when to get here. Or if it’s just another illusion that Enderquin has created to further distract me. Wouldn’t be the first time today.

“If you’re real,” I start, “then you shouldn’t have come here.”

I back off for now, finding this to be the only solution. I won’t worry about them in case it’s just another trick. If they’re real, then they decided to come here, which would’ve been their mistake – one I warned them about far too many times. Now, Enderquin scorns me for it.

I’ve already lost count of how many dragons I’ve killed. Regardless, I’ll give these villagers a chance to leave.

“He’s gone. Let’s go,” I command to Böshtok and the villagers, gesturing to the exit portal.

“No,” he answers, which is not the response I expected. “One does not simply defeat a god, Joey,” he echoes Mayor Sensha’s words to me in years past. I can’t imagine Enderquin would have known those words, at least not like that… still, I have seen Enderquin’s power. I know what he is capable of, and I won’t be fooled so quickly again.

“Even if I don’t kill you, you’ve already signed away your life, Böshtok.” I declare, jumping through the exit portal myself.

I am back on the obsidian platform. Mists begin emerging from the ground as beams blast onto each of the obsidian towers, one at a time, each one producing a new end crystal. Purple beacons surge from around the island every now and then as the dragon prepares to spawn. Wait… those weren’t there before.

At a closer glance, I notice new portals to the outer islands popping up around the island. I know for a fact that only one such portal existed the first time I was here. Does that mean this isn’t an illusion? That it isn’t in my head? Did Enderquin drive me here by mistakenly masking the real Overworld with my own fears? It’s possible, but I won’t be letting my guard down that easily.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you, my child. Call it a curious thought.”

“One thing we both have in common,” I say whilst flying through the air hurling my strongest attacks.

“Did my brother say anything?”

“What?” I stop on the obsidian platform for a moment.

“You know, about me. I never got a chance to say goodbye before Sentien cast us out.”

Now that I think about it, there truly is no way that the two would have been able to interact for the thousands of years that Sentien locked them apart… at least, based on what the Chosen One had told me. Is this entire conquest a façade of his attempt to speak to his brother again? It’s possible… that he will use my compassion as a tool to broker my surrender. Nice try.

“He did say something, actually… he said that everything you touch dies. And everything that doesn’t die runs from you. Like your scared sister who couldn’t bear the sight of you after you left them.”

Enderquin creates a new dragon without the need for me to jump through the portal, in a furious fashion. Böshtok and the others duck out in the barracks underneath the island as quakes start accompanying the spawn of end crystals. At this point, bedrock portals almost surround the entire island.

Let’s see how Enderquin likes some competition at his own game.

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Greta returns to the treehouse, ridden with broken thoughts as she fails to make eye contact with Arian. After a few moments of silence, she shares the news.

“The mayor is dead,” her fragile voice concedes, still staring at the wall. Staz can’t help but cry, while Arian channels the news into newfound frustration. She turns to the wall, pacing a bit, her face boiling red and her stance ready for the offensive. She takes her sword and rams it into the wall, startling Staz, and Greta to a lesser extent.

Arian grabs The Call of Qletlna and slams it on the lectern. She flips the pages to find a specific line of poetry.

“It waits. It hates. Scorch in the sky,” she states loudly, like a teacher preparing for a classroom lecture, but neither Staz nor Greta understand what she wants them to say.

“Come on!” she yells, again startling Staz. “It waits. It hates. Scorch in the sky! What does it mean??!!” she interrogates Greta.

“Why do you think I know?”

“You know everything, do you not?! Or are you just another pawn in the game?” Arian’s anger strengthens.

“Arian, maybe don’t-“

“Stop talking, Staz. I don’t expect you to add ANYTHING useful to this discussion.”

Staz swallows the lump in his throat while backing into the corner of the room, watching shrewdly as Arian continues marching around the room, her sword constantly clashing against her belt. She clearly fosters a myriad of thoughts, but they are processing more quickly than she can communicate.

“Maybe it’s Qletlna’s response to imprisonment,” Greta contemplates, slowly, so as to not further aggravate Arian.

Arian stops to consider, though it isn’t clear exactly what she is considering.

“He was often curious about the zodiac, thinking it could bridge the gap between our world and theirs.”

Arian, parading back to the open book, flips to another page. She points raptly at a new line. “Floods in the well,” she repeats. “Does he escape his prison?”

“I suppose it’s plausible,” Greta takes a step towards the book, feeling marginally more comfortable in their discourse. “In fact, it may even be true that he discovered how to control the zodiac gate.”

“Might explain why he was imprisoned,” Arian’s frustration propels her brain to work. “If he found a way to connect all the dimensions – of course, the other gods would cast him out.”

“What are you thinking?” Greta asks as Arian stares into the words a little longer than normal.

“Maybe Enderquin found out how to do the same.”

“How do you figure? He and Qletlna rarely interacted.”

“Doesn’t matter. Enderquin wants totalitarian control. His actions have shown his devotion to taking over everything.”

“Still, I can’t form a relation from the text.”

“Maybe it’s not in the text,” Staz flees from his corner with an idea. Greta and Arian wait for his response, almost hoping it is useless so that she can chastise him again.

“Enderquin can only do stuff through others’ minds, right? Well, if he could, I dunno, get through this gateway, then he could do anything he wants. No more limitations.”

Arian and Greta share a perceptive look, each waiting for the other to continue that train of thought.

“It’s not wrong,” Greta concedes.

“Sure, but even if Enderquin could somehow get through the gate, what’s he need Joey for? Is it just for shits and giggles?”

“Maybe he needs Joey in order to open it,” Greta flips the pages in the book. “When flight turns to fight,” she continues.

“The dragon fight… he’s likely doing it now,” Arian acknowledges.

“The fight frees him? How’s that?” Staz asks, actively trying to stay involved.

Arian flips another page.

“A score and a snake meet far beyond the lake… waters crash through the door… Oh god,” Arian panics. “Twenty rounds against the serpent himself.”

“That’s the gateway,” Greta realizes.

Arian jumps out of the treehouse and hops on one of Joey’s horses. She races back to the Inner Circle determined to get into that portal as fast as possible.

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“I’m impressed.”

“You’re delusional. Why can’t you see that we are thriving without you? That we don’t need you?” I continue attacking the dragon, mostly just for fun at this point.

“Did my brother create you? He used to say the same thing before they left me here to die,” Enderquin nearly kills me, although I’m not sure if me being here automatically destroys the curse of immortality he had placed on me.

“So that’s your play,” I recognize the deep sibling rivalry that seems to be driving Enderquin’s motives. “You don’t care about us. You just want to dominate them.”

“Don’t think any of the others care about you,” he adds. I’m halfway surprised he didn’t refute my accusations.

“When I am done creating the new world, I will let you live. The others wouldn’t think twice about removing you during the Purge.”

“How nice of you…”

I go in for the kill, but I hear a frantic Arian on the ground behind me.

“No… JOEY DON’T!!” she yells at the top of her lungs.

But it’s too late.

As the particles settle, an eerie silence looms. It’s done. We wait to see if another dragon spawns, and if the arena resets. It doesn’t. We wait for the sound of Enderquin’s voice. Nothing.

Swiftly, a bombastic hiss booms behind me. But it’s no enderman.

It’s a beacon, illuminating the sky over the first gateway portal. Not more than a second goes by before the next one spawns.

Like a snake gaining momentum across the sand, each successive gateway powers up, all the way around until all twenty have surrounded the island.

“Joey…” Böshtok starts. “What did you do?”

“What he was meant to…” The dragon’s voice emerges again, as a new entity spawns above me.

“Rest now, my dear Joey San. You have fulfilled your purpose. Now, I keep my word. My work is done, which means it is time for you to be free.”

At 0,0:

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I respawn at the Quintropolis Welcome Center. I’m back in the Overworld for the first time in what feels like many long months – the real Overworld, I think. But this is no welcome party. Only the sounds of trees collapsing, thunder clapping, strange hisses, and dragons roaring fill my ears outside. I now realize what I’ve done. I just freed the most dangerous god from his home world and allowed him unrestricted access into mine.

Grass. It’s so nice to step on the grass again, even given the circumstances.

What are these?? Get off me!!

“Joey!!” I hear in the distance as somebody runs towards me. “Joey, what’s going on?!”

“Where’s Mayor Sensha? I need to speak to him.”

“The mayor is dead, sir…”

“What? How??”

“He sacrificed himself to save a civilian.”

Of course, he would do that. His heart was always full of unwavering love for his people. He wanted the best for them, but he never let his ego get in the way of that. I should have strived to be more like him. Now, the entire city is paying the price for my choices.

Tarnished, I scramble down the road to the Inner Circle, the constant whooshing sounds and screams of panic filling the atmosphere. People are hurt. They have suffered. I have lost the Overworld. My greatest fear has become my greatest mistake.

I approach the Inner Circle, only to see it completely taken over by dragons and strange bugs. Hastily, I escape, now recognizing the gravity of opening that gateway.

“Staz… Ibram…” I conclude they must already be dead.

There truly is nowhere left to run. Nowhere to hide. I’ve learned how it feels to be inside a hallucination, and that feeling of being trapped inside my own head… it isn’t here.

But there might be one retreat…

“Arian, didn’t see you there,” I admit clumsily walking into her as I cross into the Nether. “Wait, how do you know how to get here?”

I’ve certainly never brought her to the hub.

“Oh, uh, well the portal isn’t exactly hiding.”

“I guess that’s true… but this dimension is no place for a villager.”

“Don’t treat me like them. Besides, several of ‘em already ventured way out of their way here.”

“What??!” I exclaim with great concern, for I know the dangers that lie within this realm. “Why would they do that??”

“Refuge, against the all-loving sky god, obviously. Getting everyone down here is the new plan now that our world is a tainted painting. He has no power in here… but don’t worry, they have plenty of fire resistance. I made sure of it.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of…”

“Get your head out of the sand! What are you even doing here? You look like crap,” she really doesn’t hold back. I guess that’s why Mayor Sensha put her on the Council.

“I…” my voice starts to get heavy, but I stay strong. “I failed them.”

Arian looks to me with anguish as I weep as silently as possible, trying my best not to appear weak. But even I am not immune to turmoil of the mind and soul. With broken and frail words, I reflect on my position in this world, knowing what I have caused. “I brought this chaos into the world… I alone did this. Enderquin told me that I was destined for this. Maybe that’s why they designed me to be so curious. Because they knew that curiosity would erupt into exactly what was needed to bring about a new Overworld. I am their tool. Their weapon against the world. Because of me, it will all start again.”

“Don’t give yourself so much credit, big guy,” Arian offers some consolation. “Enderquin was inevitable. You just… sped things up, I guess. Yeah, you definitely screwed some sh*t up. No doubt about that. In fact, I blamed you for much of this mess.”

Arian reaches into her bag to reveal a Nether star. She examines it with great care. “Then I remembered an old legend that spoke of a place where good and evil were always ordained for one great battle under Sentien’s eye. Armageddon was always going to come. If you didn’t open the gateway, someone else would have. And maybe, in that time, you wouldn’t be here.”

Arian puts away the Nether star and paces around the portal. “You are not a tool for the gods. I mean, come on. Stop the pity party. Your curiosity is a double-edged sword, but it’s still a sword. Don’t let Mayor Sensha’s death be for nothing. He was onto something with these chorus fruits – you need to make his quest worthwhile.”

“Chorus fruits? Why?”

“It’s a whole thing – I’ll tell you all about it later.”

I stand, still unsure of how to cope with losing this war.

“What am I supposed to do? This gateway… I don’t know anything about it.” I ask her, not really sure if she can point me in the right direction.

“It connects the worlds together. Think of it like an alignment of the zodiac symbols. Since, you know, that’s what it is, I think.”

“He’s already won, Arian. He knew everything that would happen and planned it long ago, almost as though he’d already seen it play out. I’m not even sure there’s a way to beat him at this point.”

“Well, let’s see… Use your head. You said yourself that Enderquin uses our greatest fears against us, right? But you never once stopped to think about what his greatest fear is.”

Oh, now that gives me an idea.

“Where’s Böshtok?” I ask a competent villager hiding underneath the trees outside.

“Isn’t he with you? Last I checked, he was leading an army to the sky dimension to kill that corrupted creature!!” he shouts, pointing at another dragon flaunting over the coast.

So that was really Böshtok… That might turn out to be good news for me.

Jumping back into Paradise, I sneak my way into the barracks where Böshtok and the others are hiding. I am not sure whether Enderquin can see me, because I don’t know the extent of his power in this realm – hell, I don’t even know how much power he has gained now that the Zodiac Gateway has been opened.

“Joey!!” he notices me too quickly.

“SHHHH!!! Do you want everyone to die??”

“He can’t see us – he would’ve killed us already.”

“Do you know that for a fact? Are you ABSOLUTELY certain??!!”

“He didn’t do anything after he killed you… no endermen came down here.” Böshtok shrugs, only half confident in that response. The others murmur in agreement.

“Okay,” I pause for a minute, looking around at the proud citizens who have dedicated themselves to the cause. They gave up their life to come here. To save me. To save the world. I know that I can’t control them, the same way they can’t control me. So, it looks like we are going to save each other. “Here’s what I need you to do…”

Böshtok emerges from the ground, followed by several other villagers. “Hey dragon!” he shouts. “Show me something!” he requests.

“What would you like to see?” Enderquin charismatically asks.

“I want to see… everything burn,” Böshtok answers. “We never wanted Joey’s vision!!” Other citizens pop up, standing side-by-side. The plan is working. “He’s a curse to us all. We’re happy to pledge our allegiance to the new world.”

Böshtok kneels, as do the others, as they await a response from the sky god.

“In my time observing your world, it would be foolish of me to conclude this as your desire.”

Böshtok, still kneeling, carefully waits for Enderquin to continue… but there is only more silence. With each passing moment, the burden on his next words weighs more heavily.

“You’ve seen Joey’s strength. He would kill us himself if we had been so upright.”

“And why do you suspect I will choose to spare you?”

“Why do you suspect we want to be spared?”

“You only know this life. You hold onto it so desperately, wading in ignorance and senseless searching for purpose.”

“Ignorance is a tool that can be used to manipulate those who judge you by it.”

“Your attempts to fool me are adorable. Without me, your purpose wanes in an abyss of abstract ideas.”

“Says the god who needed one of us to fulfill your own purpose,” Böshtok’s diplomatic skills are remarkable. How he is holding his own against a god who can literally wipe him out in an instant is impressive in itself.

“Enough of this theatrical trick,” Enderquin taps back into his better judgment, which honestly took longer than I anticipated. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in your next life.”

Before Enderquin can deal a final blow, I emerge from the ground with a surprise attack to the dragon’s face.

“You again…” he angrily shouts. “Why are you creatures so annoyingly stubborn?”

“We get it from you, I guess.”

My attacks on this dragon, unlike before, are far less effective. I can’t even land a hit on him without being pummeled down nearly to death, time and time again. Maybe the element of surprise wasn’t such a clever trick on my behalf.

“Don’t you see? You are just a man. You cannot kill me, because I already know everything about you.”

“I know what you dream at night. I know what you want from this world. I know your greatest fear. And I know that you think you have overcome it.”

“But you have overcome nothing. You run from it, hide it with pointless redstone projects, attempting to convince your villages that they can betray that for which they were designed.”

“You think that you have outsmarted me? That I didn’t plan on several of your precious villagers finding security in my brother’s realm?”

“That I didn’t see poor Staz and Arian meddling in your affairs? You think I didn’t know where Mayor Sensha was hiding the residents??”

“I see everything. And I see how it all ends.”

“I told you this a long time ago. Your arrogance, once again, has deceived you for the last time. It’s time to let go, my child. This is the end.”

Retreating to the ground, beaten and no longer under the spell of immortality, I crawl to a ledge near the island’s edge, barely able to move. “You’re right... I understand that. Maybe it’s all happening the way it is supposed to,” I start to realize. “Maybe I cannot kill you…”

As it happens, this ledge is where I wanted to be. Because it’s where the lever needs to go.

“…but I’m pretty sure he can.”

Böshtok and the others retreat to the barracks as the swarm of Witherquin’s army bursts from the ground. Based on what Arian told me, if the Zodiac Gate could forge a connection between here and the Overworld, then I figured it would promote the same relationship with the Netherworld. Looks like that line of thinking worked out.

“YOU IDIOT. THE ZODIAC IS SACRED. NOT FOR A TOOL.”

“How nice to see you, too, brother! I very much hope Hell has been treating you well.”

“YOU DISGRACE SISTER. YOU DISGRACE FATHER.”

“And to think I was going to give you a sliver of control over my new Overworld. I should have let you rot in the dungeon with sister.”

“I DID ROT. NOW, I AM SOMETHING NEW.”

“SOMETHING STRONGER.”

“You will always only be a god of war and death, brother. It’s your purpose. Sentien never chose you.”

“Are you sure about this, Joey? Looks like your god of war is taking one hell of a beating,” Böshtok observes. And I’m privy to that.

“Don’t lose hope; it’s all we have left. Witherquin is holding a grudge lasting several millennia. I’m willing to bet his anger holds a lot of power.”

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Gasps and cries overflow Arian and Staz’s ability to maintain some clarity of the situation. They help some of the citizens regain control, but there are too many apprehensive attitudes amid the crowd.

“Get back!!” one villager yells. “I’ll destroy you, myself!!” he points a sword to Arian.

“Chancellor, you finally decide to come back from the dead to pay me!!” another distressed villager proclaims, staring off into empty space. It’s not clear what he sees, or who Chancellor is, but the relationship likely wasn’t so amicable.

“Hey, hey – watch it!” Staz yells as several people hit him, bump into him, and generally treat him like he isn’t there. “Arian! Arian, where are you??!!”

“Staz! There’s too many of them!” she cries out. One villager charges towards her with a sword. She dodges, grabs the sword, and holds the villager close. “You are seeing a doppelganger, you idiot. Stop living this fantasy he wants you to see!” she releases him, dropping the sword.

“You… you’re Arian. From the Council of Techtown!” he remembers.

“That’s right,” Arian smiles. “Look around you. We need to help them.”

“How??”

“Whatever they’re seeing – we need to prove it isn’t real. These people need to know it’s a lie in order to be free. Believing it isn’t enough.”

Staz, now huddled under a tree as countless villagers yell and chant uncontrollably around him, suffers from a panic attack unsure of how to help. “Can’t do it, can’t do it, can’t do it,” he repeats.

From behind him, somebody ruffles the branches of the tree, joining him underneath. He turns to see, hoping for Arian but instead receiving a more welcome surprise.

“Ibram?? Is that you??” he asks, considering the possibility of a hallucination.

“I am not a hallucination, brother. And you look like you could use a hand.”

“I thought you were dead!”

“Nonsense!” he laughs. “I’ve been busy trying to learn about Enderquin’s power.”

“Did you find something?”

“Well, he hates water… and there’s a storm cloud approaching.”

Staz looks out to see the glory of a huge storm approaching the island. “Maybe it’s good the weather patterns changed after all,” he observes with a glimmer of hope.

Swiftly, he regains mobility, making for the clubhouse. “Quick! We need to get water buckets!”

Ibram follows, unsure exactly what Staz is planning.

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“THERE WAS HOPE.”

“THERE WAS PEACE.”

“THERE WAS EVEN… FUN.”

“YOU TOOK THAT AWAY FROM US.”

“YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME.”

“NOW YOU WILL SEE THAT NOT ALL LIVES ARE INFINITE.”

The Wither Storm ravages the island, killing endermen, channeling all its destructive power towards Enderquin’s hive mind. I won’t pretend to know how his power works – I can only hope that Sentien was smart enough to know. If his attack on one small enderman in the Nether was enough to spark a wound, then this must be tumultuous in comparison.

“Stop this! We have a chance to start again, brother. We can eradicate all life that represents his image. A new canvas. It can be ours… together.”

Witherquin halts his attack on the dragon.

“You know I only wanted what was best for us.”

Jacque and Böshtok pop out from the barracks. “Get back in there! Nobody should be out here,” I yell, hurrying towards them.

“What’s going on?” Böshtok asks. “Why has Witherquin stopped fighting?”

“I don’t know. Just… get back.”

“Sentien played favorites. That’s true. I won’t pretend that I understood how it made you feel, brother. I was a child, too. But as time has developed, being locked away in this metaphysical prison taught me much about the qualities that define desire. I have learned about patience.”

“I sought opportunities for redemption. A chance to make up for the distress I caused. The creatures of this world will forever remind us of Sentien’s lapse in judgment.”

“I know that vengeance is what you seek, brother. But here, your retribution is misplaced. Sentien created these desolate realms out of spite for you, and for me. He deserves to be punished for it. Perhaps, we both have survived dark dungeons of our own.”

“NO, BROTHER.” The Storm collects in the center as Enderquin heals himself at the island’s center.

“ONLY YOUR REALM IS A DUNGEON.” Witherquin’s onslaught continues as the storm multiplies, engulfing the island and threatening Enderquin’s control.

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“Arian!” Staz calls out, carrying more water buckets than any normal person. Ibram follows suit, not far behind.

“Staz! I’ve been looking for you! What are you doing with all that?”

“They need water!! Cover the ground!” Staz’s newfound motivation is a genuine, pleasant shock to Arian. While still concerned about his state of mind, she observes Ibram’s backing and decides to pursue Staz’s idea.

Flooding the ground with water, endermen rapidly leave the area, and the villagers become less able to act upon their illusions. They fight against the water, but they show an unawareness of the water’s existence at all.

“They can’t see the water, but they can feel it…” Arian realizes to herself. “Amazing.”

“If they aren’t strong enough to get out on their own, then we’ll pull them out. Because that’s what we do,” Ibram adds, standing side-by-side with Arian, both proudly witnessing Staz’s guidance and gallantry. It’s a day Arian certainly never thought she would see.

The rain continues as the trio continues to cover the island, more and more villagers being set free from Enderquin’s mental grip.

“What’s happening?” one fletcher asks, his visions changing as the water fights against whatever subplot Enderquin had already instilled in his mind. “Mom, where did you go?? Am I dead, too?”

“You are anything but dead, my friend,” Ibram comforts the scared fletcher. “You are free.”

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“I DID LOOK UP TO YOU. BUT YOU ALWAYS LOOK DOWN TO ME.”

“YOUR VISION IS BASED ONLY IN FEAR. THIS IS NOT THE WAY OF THE ZAEX.”

“YOU ARE NOT A GOD. YOU ARE A COWARD LIVING IN A GOD’S SHADOW.”

“IT IS TIME FOR THE SUN TO RISE UPON THE SHADOW.”

“Brother, stop! Please! God said himself… all that is not sacred is death!”

“NO. GOD SAID… LET THERE BE LIGHT.”

Tremors rattle the dimensions as Enderquin’s spirit crumbles at Witherquin’s hand, his final cry splitting through the air as his voices break apart, no longer collecting in unison, each one withering away as the light itself shines brighter than ever before, forcing everyone to retreat into the barracks. I watch as the light disintegrates all the endermen on the island, its heat so powerful that the end stone around us starts to crack.

The light subsides, rocks settle outside, but not a single enderman is in sight. Carefully treading upon the scorched end stone, keeping distance between myself and Witherquin, the sentient whispers I heard before are no longer there. The voices in my head are not invading my choices. The pain inside me is gone. I feel free – fully, wholly, free.

“Is it finished?” one of the villagers asks.

“I think so,” I respond cautiously, unsure whether this is just another circus trick. It isn’t long until that question is answered…

An earthquake flares as the ground beneath us starts to rupture, obsidian pillars rumbling all over the island. The villagers erupt in chaotic fear as we all make our way to the exit portal.

“Böshtok!! Get everyone out of there!!” I call towards the barracks. “The dimension is collapsing! Soon it will cease to exist!!”

Fissures split the island faster than some of the villagers can escape, my anxiety peaking with the knowledge that I can’t save everyone from whatever final act that nature has in store. Chunks of end stone sink around us as massive craters explode surrounding the portal. We are out of time. This world is about to implode.

“Go! Go! Go!” I help direct everyone out – at least, those who have not already succumbed to the Void. “Böshtok!! Get out of here!!” I finally see him with the last group of villagers, struggling to dance around the massive holes that have already dotted the canvas of the island.

One-by-one, the gateway beacons explode, shockwaves echoing in the wind as the sky starts to split. Böshtok barely makes it, and I make one final attempt to communicate with Witherquin, who is fully soaking in the fate of this world.

“I hope Sentien gives you a new purpose, God of War. I sense a fragment of goodness within you.”

I didn’t expect a response, nor was there time to wait for one. The End was gone.

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“Is everyone okay?!” I race around checking on the villagers who made it back from Enderquin, wading through waters that drowned the island, somehow. Böshtok finally pops back into the Welcome Center. “Böshtok!!”

“Joey, am I dead??”

“No, sir, you are very much not dead!” I exclaim with a smile on my face as the rain begins to fade, the sun promising to rise soon.

The villagers smile, some of them mourn, others pinch themselves to ensure they are not caught in a hallucination. Beaten and broken, but far from dead, I follow the road (well, river at this point) down to the Inner Circle while the residents collect their bearings, distinct chattering abound.

“Never again,” I state as I finally build the Tetraquin Monument, modeled after the chorus fruit, in honor of Mayor Sensha’s sacrifice.

“Nothing will hurt you, ever again.” Surrounding the monument with eight beacons, I give the Inner Circle Witherquin’s blessing it should have always had.

“Joey,” a civilian approaches me in the Circle. “How can you be sure we will be safe?”

“Joey!!” another one dashes from behind. “My head hurts, and I can’t sleep anymore!! Will that dragon come after me again??!!”

People start pouring into the village, most of them hurt, upset, and generally traumatized. They are expressing all these feelings to me, because they think I have all the answers for them. But I know they don’t fully trust me.

“Enderquin made me see the death of my child!!”

“I saw my house catch fire in my sleep!”

“He drove me to jump off the chunk border! I almost drowned!!”

“Never have I seen so many zombies before… it’s like they replaced everyone and never stopped chasing me!”

“I nearly killed my neighbor thinking he was an enderman!”

“I was an enderman! Worst feeling of my life!!”

“How can we ever feel safe again in this world?”

All at once, the people overwhelm me with their troubled experiences under Enderquin’s control. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help them. Seemingly out of nowhere, Böshtok stands by my side, followed closely by Staz. Ibram pops out from the clubhouse. Arian, a diamond sword in hand, stands next to him. The uproar of the civilians gradually quiets down as they look to us.

“We have overcome so much together,” Böshtok starts what I imagine is going to be a speech.

“Each one of you fought against this demon using the power of your mind. Power that comes from within you. Collectively, your strength allowed us to eradicate Enderquin’s presence from this world. We did that, together.”

“You have all made history today,” Ibram takes the pedestal next. “I can’t tell you how many times I, myself, wanted to give up. Enderquin is a plague. He is that part of our minds that tells us we aren’t good enough. That we aren’t strong enough. His biggest weapon was always inside of us. Not everyone made it out,” he looks towards the other members. “We mourn those we lost today. We come together to honor their lives, and to acknowledge that they were part of a victory.”

“Enderquin took one of ours, too,” Staz has things to say. “He was a good guy, always full of jokes.” I can see Böshtok tearing up, and I understand why. From the first day I met him back in Techtown, he was always with Drexel. They were an inseparable pair.

“I looked up to him, and one day he just went insane. He lost the battle to Enderquin. But, he showed us the threat we were up against. He forced us to do better. To be better,” Staz looks at me specifically. “And we will be. Because we are only as good as the way we treat each other.”

“There’s no cure for this,” Arian steps up. “You’re all part of this, now. We’re all part of this,” she looks to me. I shouldn’t be surprised that’s all she needed to say. The four council members look to me. It’s my turn.

“I’ve made mistakes. There are things that I would go back and change right now if I could. But I can’t. Some of you will hate me. But don’t let what you think of me affect how you choose to lead your lives. This is a chance to start over. Things are different now, and things are never going to be the way they were before. Our gods have heard us. They’ve seen what we can do. Let us show them who we are. Who we can be.”

“For all who wish to rest in a safe space, I am opening a direct railway line to The Sanctuary. This is a place of safety, not to be disturbed. You have all suffered, and I give you my deepest apologies for that. Please accept an open invitation into The Sanctuary, should you need a space to recover.”

“Beyond The Sanctuary, I erect a monument that channels our collective spirits and energy. We defeated Enderquin. He is part of this world now only as a memory. In dedication to Mayor Sensha and all those we have lost, let the Enderquin Monument serve as the pinnacle of our story. In time, it will tell the entire story. This is the SEECRET PROJECT. This is… Milestone Mountain.”

“We are no longer the Council of Techtown. We are the Quintropolis World Council.”

As the villagers disperse, I approach Böshtok, arms crossed, with just the slightest grin on my face.

“What?” he asks somewhat playfully.

“So, chorus fruits, huh?”

“What are you… what do you mean?” Böshtok looks to Arian, who offers no attempt to “save” him. I can’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, she told me everything. You know, you could have just asked me about them. Truth be told, I don’t even know that much about them. But hey, now there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Ah, well, I think maybe we’d better keep those on the down low. Wouldn’t want to start another faction war.” He’s got a point, there.

Böshtok heads back to the clubhouse as the last few people depart from the Inner Circle, either heading back to their respective villages or The Sanctuary. Today is the first day I have felt real sunshine in what feels like forever. Finally, I can rest.

“Arian,” I call to her as she walks off. She turns but doesn’t advance towards me. “Something I was curious about…”

“What else is new?”

“Well… when I was about to kill the twentieth dragon, you yelled at me to stop. How did you know? About the gateway?”

Arian contemplates my question for a moment.

“Danger always follows the path of the curious,” she responds. I guess that suffices, though it wasn’t really an answer. Then again, many of these people know things that I don’t, so perhaps it’s true that we aren’t so different after all. I nod to Arian and set off back to Starlight.

“Oh, Joey!” Arian calls out to me. “One more quick little thing I wanted to run by ya.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Well, there’s one villager who is particularly terrified. I think she had become an enderman or something… Anyway, I felt she might feel safer in your treehouse. Much smaller and cozier – The Sanctuary might be a bit much for her.”

“Oh, uh, okay. I don’t see why not. There’s room in the treehouse.”

“Great! I figured you’d be able to take care of her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Greta. She’s great company, but yeah – very traumatized. Oh, and she likes to be left alone.”

“Sure, I can respect that.”

Arian gives me the thumbs up before heading off.

It’s so nice to see my fellow residents care for one another, especially in a time like this. Perhaps love is the greatest gift from the gods of them all. It binds us together. It gives us a reason to keep pushing forward. No force is powerful enough to destroy us, because we have the strongest weapon living within our hearts. That will never be stripped from us, no matter how hard fear tries to divide us. And it has tried with all its might.

It’s tough to fight fear alone. That’s why we need each other – a lesson that I, myself, continue to learn. I kept them in the dark. I kept my own interests distant from them. People were hurt because of it. I won’t make that mistake again, because in the end, we are stronger together than we could ever be individually. We are not the result of a failed experiment. We are the strongest force of nature that exists. Love always wins.