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*Mobs can understand human speech and vice versa

**In a few instances, non-vanilla animals and plants are mentioned. They are not important to the plot.

*** “Townsies” are humans who live in civilized settlements, like cities and villages. They are not villager mobs.

****Since there are time-jumps and POV changes galore here, there are some “off-screen”, so to speak, events that are mentioned by characters when they weren’t described as happening in-text.

*****The world and characters peopling it are blocky and pixellated like the Minecraft world, but items are 3-dimensional like blocks instead of flat planes of pixels. Also, creepers are shaped more like cougars than awkward armless, stubby-legged quasi-humanoids.

Spit-Ember Cavern.

8:21 AM.

The lava bubbles and undulates in thick, gooey pools within a rocky cavity in the earth. Occasionally, a gob of molten rock is spat into the air by the lava springs, where it hits the cavern floor and cools with a hot hiss.

Elizabeth Fuego feels right at home here. The she-Blaze floats casually though the burning cavern as if she owns the place, which in a way she kind of does.

Just then, a *thud-thud-thud* reverbs through the rock wall on the far south end of Spit-Ember. Liz gasps and zooms over to the source of the sound. She can feel the flames growing on her body and her rods picking up speed in their spin.

She arrives right as the rocks crumble and collapse to reveal a two-block-tall figure standing in the doorway he created. An iron pickaxe is held in his hand. The shabby miner, in his baggy, coal dust-stained miner’s getup, looks up at the Blaze floating before him in awe. Then he snaps out of it and takes out a chipped stone sword. Before Liz can react, he makes a quick chop with the blade. It hits one of her rods with a metallic clunk and she’s knocked backwards.

Now she’s angry. Liz rises up, feeling the flames engulf her. She spits out a trio of fireballs at her unwelcome visitor.

But to her chagrin, all three miss. The miner laughs an annoying guffaw as he dodges left to avoid one of the flaming projectiles. “Ha! You missed!”

No kidding, Liz thinks irritably, before gearing up for another attack.

The miner charges, blade slashing wildly through the air. Liz circles around and shoots, but again she misses.

I need to work on my aim, she laments.

“Someone needs to work on their aim!” the miner jeers as he strikes twice, both hits finding their mark.

Just as Liz is sure this miner is going to finish her off, something or someone grabs him from behind and heaves him across the cavern like a hay-bale.

The miner crashes into a stalagmite and slumps limply to the ground. Whether he’s dead or just K.O’ed Liz doesn’t know, but she’s not going to stay around to find out. Instead, she turns to whoever the mystery fella is. Standing there is a very tall, night-black creature who looks thoughtfully at her with stunning magenta eyes.

“Wow. Gracias, señor.” Liz says. Now that she’s calmed down, her rods are slowing down in their spin. “I don’t think I could have taken him on myself.”

“I can teach you how,” the Enderman offers.

“Really? How so? And who are you, anyway?”

“One question at a time. And we must be away before this fellow comes to.”

“Wait, just tell me who you are first.”

“My name is Karion. Who might you be?”

“Elizabeth Fuego at your service.” Liz even does a little curtsey (well, as best as a Blaze could curtsey, anyway.)

Karion takes hold of one of Liz’s rods and the two teleport out of the cavern. A second later, they are standing in the midst of a forest.

Karion turns to face Elizabeth “Well, Elizabeth, I suppose you have encountered these pesky humans in times prior, have you not?”

“Wouldn’t you know it. I can fend the newbie miners off, but I’m usually running from them. And my aim’s really off today. It’s so embarrassing.”

“I represent a ragtag group of mobs who seek to remove the plague on this world known as the player race. After all, they were the ones who invaded our homeland and slaughtered our kind in the first place.”

“Mhm-hmm?”

“And we’d like you to join our ranks, Miss Fuego. How does that sound?”

The she-Blaze smiles. “Call me Liz.”

Squidley Beach.

9:13 AM.

Gentle sapphire waves wash up against the creamy yellow sand and retreat back into the ocean. A seagull circles overhead, cawing softly. Palm trees sway in the gentle, refreshing breeze.

Suddenly a scream rips through the tranquillity. “AAAAAAAH! No! Leave me alone!” Isaac scrambles down the sandy dunes. His zombie pigman feet are not designed to run haphazardly through sand.

“Grrrr!” The iron golem chasing him responds with a mechanical growl and flails its metal arms wildly. It clambers clumsily down the dune, tripping halfway down and tumbling the rest of the way.

It is rather funny, but Isaac must quell his namesake and make a getaway. For within seconds, the chunk of iron has stumbled back to its feet and continues to clomp after him. Isaac isn’t the fastest, and the golem is right on his curly tail. Isaac rounds a corner only to find a sea wall blocking his way. A dead-end. Knowing he has no other option, the zombie pigman whirls around and whisks his golden sword out of the scabbard at his hip.

The golem takes purposefully slow, thudding steps toward him, growling and yammering something unintelligible. Isaac holds the blade out further, only for the beast to swat it out of his hand. The iron golem raises its huge metal fists in the air, preparing to smash them down on Isaac’s half-exposed skull. There’s no way Isaac will defeat this monstrosity. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and accepts his fate, hoping that he won’t feel too much pain.

Instead of feeling the horrible agony of his skull crushed to smithereens, Isaac only hears a heavy *KLUNK!* and experiences no pain. Curious, he cracks one eye open to see that the iron golem has switched targets. Now the metal monster is squaring off with a tall, shadowy figure.

The golem swings its arms, but the Enderman jumps and dodges to avoid being thrown. At strategic times, he throws a few hits of his own, pushing the iron golem closer and closer to the water.

As Isaac looks on in awe, the Enderman ducks to avoid a swing of the golem’s metal fist, then responds with a powerful kick to its chest that sends it staggering. It falls backwards into the ocean with a huge splash, spraying water everywhere that the Enderman teleports back a few metres to avoid. Emitting one last mechanical snarl, the monstrosity sinks to the ocean floor.

“Whoa!” Isaac muses, when the Enderman turns to face him. “That—was—awesome!”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” the shadowy creature responds. Then he extends his spindly hand. “The name’s Karion. What’s yours?”

“Isaac,” the zombie pigman says, timidly shaking Karion’s hand.

“How would you like to learn how to fight like that, Isaac?”

“Where do I sign up?”

Painted Point.

12:03 AM.

Arnold crouches in the flowers, eyes trained on the group of four players wandering around the field. They often stop to crouch down and thumb through the colourful blooms, but Arnold knows better than to think they’re putting together bouquets for their sweeties.

The pig can see, even with his less-than-stellar vision, that the foursome hold swords in their hands. Two have stone swords, one has iron, and the least experienced-looking one wields a wooden blade.

It’s high noon. These fellas are hungry, and nothing would sate them like a fresh, juicy pork chop.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arnold notices a small herd of cows quietly stealing away through the shades of the nearby woods. He breathes a frustrated sigh and wishes he was among them, instead trying to blend in with the blooms.

“Dude! Where did that dang pig go?” one of the players complains to his friends. He swings his stone sword through the air irritably.

“Here, piggy, piggy, piggy!” the newbie calls out in a ridiculous high-pitched falsetto coo.

The iron-swordsman smacks him on the back of the head. “Shut up! That’s not helping!”

“I’m hungryyyyyy!” whines one of the stone sword wielders. “Can’t we just eat something else?”

“Do you have something else?”

“Uh…no.”

“My point exactly. Come on, we’re not getting any younger here.”

“I can’t find him,” the newbie complains.

“News flash: neither can I,” the iron sword wielder and apparent leader of the group retorts.

“Are we gonna be looking for the pig all day?” the whiny stone-swordsman gripes.

“Yeah, if you keep yammerin’ instead of looking,” the leader replies curtly.

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

While the players descend into a petty argument, Arnold army-crawls through the flowers as discreetly as possible, aiming for the woods. The boys are too absorbed in their squabble to see the blooms shake and sway as the pig passes through them.

Finally Arnold can stand up and run when he reaches the shadows cast by the trees. “Yes! See you later, dummkopfs!” The pig gallops through the woods for a little bit until he reaches a mouth of a cave. A zombie wearing an iron helmet sits on a boulder outside it, looking a little bored. His handsome chestnut horse grazes nearby.

“Arnold. Good to see you,” he says as the pig approaches.

“Guten tag, Joel,” Arnold responds.

“Do you have the list I asked for?”

“Ja, right here.” Arnold produces a crumpled ball of paper from nowhere and presents it to Joel. “The names of all our prospective recruits.”

“Splendid…” Joel gingerly takes the wrinkled page from Arnold and un-crumples it. “Um…I think you need to work on your origami skills, though.”

Arnold, slightly offended, snorts. “Give me a break. I don’t have thumbs.”

Potatoville.

1:19 PM.

Hector the villager wanders aimlessly through the gritty gravel streets of his village. The roads are narrow and claustrophobic, with shabby wooden hovels packed tightly together on either side.

“The village of no personal space,” he mutters to himself. In his mind he thinks over his sales pitch for trading. 1 emerald for 7 roast chicken. It seems reasonable enough to him.

It’s been weeks since the last time a traveler visited Potatoville, so named for its disproportionately large number of potato farms. Hector remembers selling three loaves of bread to one wanderer. The man had only grudgingly agreed to pay a shiny emerald for the nosh, muttering to himself as he left about villagers being “rip-off artists.”

The endless “Huh-huh-hrmm” of his fellow villagers is starting to grate on Hector’s mind, so he sneaks away to the far end of Potatoville for some peace and quiet. As he passes by one of the umpteen potato farms, he thinks he hears two people talking quietly and indistinctly. Their voices are unfamiliar. Curious, Hector ducks to be partially hidden by the potato plants and sneaks toward the sound to investigate.

He spots a pig…ordinary enough…but the porker is looking up at his worst fear. A zombie, wearing an iron helmet to protect himself from the sunlight, is conversing with the pig. Worse, said zombie is perched on a powerful-looking chestnut stallion.

Hector peels away from his hiding spot, making a crazed dash for the village hall. Clearly, this is no ordinary zombie, so it probably poses a substantial threat.

“Sir! Sir! Zombie on the village outskirts!” Hector tattles, dropping to his knees before King Tonto as the king sits on his dark oak throne. Well, at least he tries to, but while in the process of doing that he clumsily trips over his own feet and faceplants.

“What! Zombies? Where?” King Tonto rises from his throne as two guards help Hector to his feet.

“On the village outskirts. Near that big potato farm,” answers Hector.

Tonto gives him a “seriously?” glare. There are big potato farms on every outskirt of Potatoville. “I don’t believe you.”

“You have to!”

“No, I don’t. Now scram.” King Tonto waves his hands dismissively at Hector, who meekly leaves before the guards can escort him with their spears.

Hector leaves the village hall and paces thoughtfully outside the imposing stone building, trying to remember what he was doing before he spotted the zombie.

“Oh, well. Couldn’t have been too important if I don’t remember,” Hector says to himself as he starts off in some random direction.

However, he doesn’t get very far, because the zombie he just tattled about stands in front of Hector, horse at his side and an “I’m-not-amused” look on his countenance.

“Gah! Zombie!” Hector squeals.

“No kidding,” the zombie says irritably. “What did you think I was—a chicken?”

“You! What are you doing hanging around our village, undead scum?”

“None of your business, nosy,” the zombie replies curtly.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of my nose!” Hector holds his hands over his large nose protectively.

“All I’ll say is that I’m gathering some…allies.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m gonna put a stop to it right now!” Hector proclaims, rather boldly.

“No, you’re not.”

“And just how do you plan on keeping me from turning you in?

“By turning you in. Turning you into one of us, that is.”

By the time Hector realizes what’s going on, it’s too late. The zombie’s claw-like fingernails are digging into the skin of his arm. The flesh is already turning green with the undead virus.

“Welcome to the team,” the zombie says. “My name is Joel.”

Rendezvous point.

2:48 PM.

Karion and Joel meet up in a forest clearing. The spot is well protected from players, who are too afraid to venture into the dangerous roofed forest.

“Nimbus, this is only a temporary meeting spot.” Karion approaches the creeper diligently digging into the side of a small bump of earth, dodging the clods of earth that go flying from his scooping paws.

“Well, that would have been nice to know before I starting digging the den.” Nimbus emerges from the little tunnel he’s dug, covered in dirt.

Karion looks him up and down. “You’re a mess!”

“Oh, yeah? Watch this.” Nimbus shakes like a wolf after a swim. When he’s done, there isn’t a speck of soil on his fluffy green fur. “Who’s a mess now, huh?”

Karion is about to respond when Joel taps him on the shoulder from behind. The zombie has to jump to actually reach the Enderman’s shoulder, but he makes it happen.

“Ah, Joel, good to see you,” Karion says.

“I have the list of contacts.” Joel hands him the paper Arnold gave him earlier.

“Splendid. We’ll have a great force in no time!”

“How many do we have now?”

“Well, I just recruited a Blaze and a zombie pigman today. Liz and Isaac.”

“So you were in the Nether, eh?”

“No, actually. I’m not sure what they were doing in the Overworld, but…eh. It’s not really my business.”

“Well, I recruited a villager.”

Karion stares at him, horrified. “You recruited one of those despicable traitors?! Joel!”

“Now, now, it’s not what you think—“

“It had better not be!”

“Why don’t you see for yourself, then?” Joel beckons behind him for a zombie villager to come forward. An ill-fitting leather helmet protects the newest member of Karion’s ragtag team from the deadly sunlight.

Karion cringes and sighs. “Joel, you aren’t supposed to force anyone into the group.”

Joel, who was expecting praise for a successful mission, gapes incredulously at the Enderman. “But…But I was just doing what you told me to do!”

“I told you to recruit, not abduct.” The long-suffering Karion sighs. “Well, what’s done is done.”

“What’s all that arguing?” a Spanish-accented voice asks. Presently, the air around unexpectedly heats up as Liz floats over to them.

“Insignificant matter,” Karion explains.

“Karion blew up at me because I infected a villager as a recruit.” Joel crosses his arms and squints at the Enderman.

“Hey! No jokes about blowing up!” Nimbus protests from the sidelines.

“Que será, será,” Liz replies to Joel’s side of the story. “Not much we can do about it now.”

“That’s what I told him,” Karion adds.

“So we’re all rallied together; now what?” Nimbus asks, pawing the ground impatiently.

“Oh, we’re far from finished.” Joel takes out the paper that Arnold gave him earlier and unfolds it. Karion hands him a quill feather, and the zombie uses it to scratch off the names of everyone who’s already been gathered.

“Do we need to go on recruitment missions?” asks Isaac as he joins in, late, to the group.

“No. Well, perhaps in times to come, but not now. Recruitment is the business of Joel and I for now.”

“So you’re going on more missions?”

“Precisely. You, Liz, Nimbus, and Arnold can head home. We’ll meet back up at the official base…sometime soon. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect!” is the unanimous response. The foursome depart for home, leaving Karion and Joel behind in the clearing.

“Well…duty calls.” The Enderman teleports away in a puff of purple sparkles to his next task. Joel’s method of departure is taking off on his horse, Copper—less exciting but still better than walking.

Jellybean Island.

4:15 PM.

Beans sits on the sun-warmed sand of the small island, watching the glassy ocean waves gently lap up against the shore, but also being careful not to let his feet touch the deep blue water.

A ginger tabby cat, Noodle, nuzzles lovingly up against his arm, purring. Beans smiles a little and strokes his beloved kitty, feeling the gentle vibrations from the cat’s purr.

Beans’ world is silent. He does not hear the steady crash of wave impacting sand, the squawk of the seagulls as they circle overhead, or even Noodle’s purring.

Nor does he hear his own voice when he says, “Good Noodle.”

Beans is deaf.

The Enderman sighs as the painful memory comes back to him. He was young. So blissful, so innocent.

So naïve. Why, oh why, couldn’t he have noticed the player sneaking up on him with a block of TNT? It was too late by the time he heard the sizzle and turned to see the dreaded block smoking and flashing black and white.

It had exploded in a raging fireball, blowing Beans back so that he hit the cavern wall behind him. The blast was the loudest thing Beans had ever heard, rattling his whole body, especially his mind.

He banged his head against the hard stone and slumped to the floor, psyche reeling as he blacked out. The sound of the explosion morphed into a high-pitched whine in his ears that only faded when he lost consciousness.

When he came to, it was morning. The sun shone in on his face, but the constant music of chirping birds was strangely absent. Standing up and exiting the yawning mouth of the cave, the sound of wind through the tree branches wasn’t there either, nor was the rush of the river.

The slight injury he sustained from the TNT blast quickly became the lowest on his priorities as he had the terrible realization that the explosion had deafened him.

Tears had come to his youthful eyes when he thought of all the wonderful sounds that he would never hear again. The friendly bark of a wolf. The peaceful purr of a cat. The warbling melodies of the birds in the morning. The soothing sigh of the distant wind by night. His mother singing a lullaby to him on those nights when he couldn’t sleep. All gone.

Beans feels the tears returning, and blinks a few times to ward them off and bring himself back to the present. Sighing sadly, he absentmindedly traces a claw through the sand, doodling some abstract drawing.

Suddenly he feels a tug at his arm. Noodle lightly smacks Beans with his paw. When Beans turns his head to look at his cat, Noodle smacks him again and points earnestly at something out on the ocean. Beans squints to see what the little dark speck on the wide stretch of blue could be. The speck grows steadily until he can dimly make out the shape of it.

The Enderman gasps when the speck is now clearly shown to be a player approaching Jellybean Island in a shabby wooden boat. He scoops up his cat and looks around wildly for a place to teleport to. The mainland is too far away. Beans curses his decision to live on the remote Jellybean Island. He must fight this intruder instead. He sets Noodle gently down on the ground and squares up for battle. Beans always tries to pick flight over fight. His deafness puts him at a huge disadvantage, forcing him to rely on Noodle’s keen feline ears instead.

The boat hits the shore and promptly breaks into three wood planks blocks and two sticks. The player stumbles onto the beach and takes out his sword.

The player is a stupid teenager, looking like he’s barely been in a real fight before. Still, Beans knows better than to underestimate players. They are relentless to have their quarry and worse, sometimes they carry buckets of water.

Beans tries to put on an intimidating act. He stands as tall as he can (which is quite tall), stretches out his fingers to show the wicked claws sprouting from their tips, and snarls, flashing a mouthful of fangs.

A satisfying feeling comes to Beans when the boy’s mask of arrogant ferocity flickers to fear. The player takes a tentative step backwards, no doubt regretting his decision to provoke Beans.

Beans is off to a good start. He boldly strides forward. But the teen somehow gets over his fright and stares hard into Beans’ eyes again. He curls up his fist and shakes it at Beans, yelling something.

Something that, of course, Beans is unable to hear. The Enderman is confused for a second. That second gives the boy time to make a quick slash across Beans’ ankles. The world flashes red for a second and Beans gives a yelp of pain.

Furious at both the player (for hurting him) and himself (for getting distracted), Beans swipes at him with the claws on both hands, badly scratching his opponent. This time, he teleports around behind the player before they can return the gesture.

Beans kicks the player in the back, sending him sprawling on the sand for a few seconds. I just have to keep him in front of me, he thinks.

When the player is back on his feet he makes a wide cut with his sword, but the strike is parried by the Enderman’s claws. The weapons collide with a terrific *CLANG!* but the sound, obviously, is silent to Beans. He only feels the vibrations from the force of the impact travel up his arm.

The player is shouting furiously, and seems to become only more enraged when Beans shows no sign of understanding his bellowing. Fed up, the player sees his opportunity and kicks Beans in the knees.

Beans collapses into a kneeling position in front of his enemy. Their eyes are level, and stare into each other. Beans’ eyes go wide with terror when he sees the player swing his sword to the side, because he knows what will happen when the teen brings it back around again. But before the final blow can be struck, in a poof of purple sparkles, a black hand stabs down and seizes the weapon by the hilt.

The player, driven to the brink of blind visceral rage, whirls around to face whoever dared stop his attempt to finish off Beans. He nearly falls flat when he finds another Enderman glaring at him.

“Two? Uhp,” he says.

While he’s in shock, the new Enderman irritably swats his sword away, which skids across the sand and lands in the ocean with a *ploosh.*

The teen looks at the other Enderman, then at Beans, then back again, and hightails it away, diving into the ocean like a penguin and desperately swimming, intending to put as much distance as possible between himself and his challengers.

“You came right in time!” Beans says, wondering what his voice must sound like.

I tend to do that, the new arrival signs. Beans beams at the realization that he has met someone who knows sign language.

Who are you? Beans asks with his hands.

The name is Karion. Am I right in assuming you are Beans?

Yes, that’s right. Beans picks up his cat and sets the kitty in his lap. And this is Noodle, my cat!

Come with me, Beans, Karion instructs. Beans nods assent, and both of them teleport away using Karion's more powerful teleporting, leaving the lonely shores of Jellybean Island behind.

Sharewood Forest

5:36 PM

Trevor thrashes about in a tangled net, desperate to escape. He lets out a distressed bleat and flails his back legs wildly. It’s only a matter of time before the hunter will return to find that his trap has met its mark.

“Help!” he cries. Trevor tries to shake off the net, only for it to become further woven into his fleece. Finally he gives up and, with tears running down his little sheep face, lies down to accept his fate.

The padding of footsteps makes Trevor look up. When he does, he sees a cloaked person running at him. They carry a gleaming iron sword in their hand. Trevor cringes. Oh, well, better to be killed quickly by a swift blow or two from an iron sword than to have it dragged out by a stone (or worse, a wooden) blade.

The person stops when they reach the net. They raise the sword high above their head and bring it down. But instead of striking Trevor, the blade cuts harmlessly through the rope.

Trevor blinks in disbelief and stands up. He shakes the net off and it plops to the ground like a piece of laundry.

“Wow, thanks…whoever you are.” Trevor looks at his rescuer.

The person flips back their hood to reveal a zombie’s head, protected from the sun by an iron helmet. Trevor immediately recognizes the famed mob.

“Good thing you got to me, Joel, before anyone else did. I thought I was dead meat for a minute there. I’m Trevor, by the way. Say, aren’t you and a bunch of other mobs collecting recruits for some kind of resistance force?”

“Precisely. Care to join?”

“Oh, I don’t know. What use do you guys have for a sheep?”

Joel scoops up Trevor and slings the sheep over his shoulders like an ancient shepherd (because Trevor won’t be able to handle the long walk to the meeting-place.) “Everyone’s got a purpose, Trevor.”

The “arena.”

6:27 PM.

The stomping of huge, heavy feet makes the ground tremble underfoot. An unusually large iron golem lumbers around the sandy pit, growling. He cracks his knuckles, eager to rain down his violent fury on his victim.

In the other corner, we have the challenger: James the skeleton. A strange set of events has led to him being in this circumstance, but in any case it’s not ideal. Armed with only a half-worn-out bow, he has to find some way to defeat this monster.

A small crowd has gathered in the stands, cheering the iron golem on. This is their sadistic idea of entertainment.

The golem, Bruiser, makes a lunge for James, who is forced to quickly peel away running. Unfortunately for him, he’s in an arena and he can only run in circles around its circumference. Bruiser clambers after him furiously.

The spectators laugh, as if this is a comedy routine. Around and around they go. Panting, James steals a look over his shoulder just to see Bruiser gaining on him. Bruiser makes a grab for him, no doubt eager to do his signature move of violently slamming his victims against the wall. This particular golem isn’t content to simply kill mobs—he likes to do it in the most brutal ways possible.

James collapses suddenly, tumbling to his side. Bruiser lumbers up to him and puts his heavy iron foot on the skeleton’s delicate rib cage, winding him. Just a little more force, and James will be crushed.

“Bruiser! Bruiser! Bruiser!” the spectators chant, and James falls back limply, not even trying to retaliate.

Just then, there’s a *poof!* Bruiser snaps his head up, growling at the new arrival. He lifts his foot off of James and gets ready to battle the stranger who had the gall to interrupt another entertaining fight at the arena.

“Come and get me, rust bucket,” the Enderman, standing tall and proud, taunts.

“With pleasure!” Bruiser grunts. He lunges for the shadowy creature, but to his chagrin it teleports. All Bruiser gets is an armful of fragrant purple dust.

“Yoo-hoo!” the Enderman calls in a silly falsetto from behind Bruiser and kicks him in the back. The startled iron golem stumbles forward a bit and flails his arms before whirling around, swinging a fist to strike.

The strike never reaches its mark, because the Enderman teleports away—again—right as the iron golem spins around. Now the tables have turned and the spectators are laughing at Bruiser, which enrages him all the more.

“Ahhhh-Grrraaaagggh!” he yells, still fruitlessly trying to catch his opponent. As this goes on, James watches in wonderment. The Enderman’s fighting style seems familiar. Where has he heard stories of fighting like that before? Then it hits him.

“Karion!” he exclaims to himself. “Of course!”

Which can only mean…

Karion stops suddenly while Bruiser has tripped over his own feet and now lies face-first in the sand. “Okay, enough playtime.” When the iron golem stumbles blearily after him, Karion whips around and kicks Bruiser in the chest with a swift strike. The wounded, dizzy, and tired golem tips over backwards like a felled tree and lies there, out cold. The spectators begin to cheer, satisfied by the action. The Enderman, however, doesn’t take kindly to it.

“Quiet!” he shouts irritably to them before seizing James by the arm and teleporting away before their very eyes.

Steve’s house.

11:07 PM.

The world is asleep, yet also awake. A silver moon shines over the land, illuminating the grass blades of plains swaying softly in the gentle night breeze, the windswept dunes of deserts, the restless ocean waves, and the silent snow of tundra with a dim blue light. The pearly orb is the crown jewel in a black velvet expanse studded with a million diamond stars.

The last threads of daylight are long gone and now a certain someone can blend in perfectly with the dark shades of night. He moves along quickly, his bright magenta eyes the only clue to his existence in the blackness.

A plain, sort of ugly house stands atop a hill. White smoke curls out of a brick chimney sticking out of the weak attempt at a slanted roof. The house is built of wood planks on a cobblestone foundation.

Karion approaches the shack, contempt in his intense gaze. He knows who resides in the home, and that occupant is not exactly the most agreeable being to walk the earth.

Karion peers in through the glass pane window. Inside, Steve is fast asleep in his bed, still wearing his armor. Karion finds that sort of behaviour abstruse. Isn’t it uncomfortable to sleep on top of your bed fully armored?

Then again, Steve is the kind of person who assumes the entire world is his for the taking just because he randomly woke up in it one day, and feels it is his “destiny” or something stupid like that to invade the End and slay the Ender-dragon, who never did him a shred of harm. Sleeping in full armour is the least of his unfathomable behavior.

Just then, a zombie lumbers up the hill, groaning. Karion tenses and thinks, No! If the undead fellow attacks Steve now, it’ll put a dent in all of the Enderman’s plans.

Karion motions fervently for the zombie to back off, desperately trying to convey his message without making any noise. Mercifully, the undead nods and goes back down the hill.

The locked door poses no challenge for the Enderman, who bypasses it simply by teleporting inside. He has to duck once inside because of the low ceiling. Karion goes over to a chest and sifts through it. After rummaging through uncooked pork chops, lumps of coal, and saplings galore, he finally finds what he wants.

Slowly Karion draws it out of the box, watching the tiny bits of quartz in the mineral rock sparkle in the torchlight. The stone sword is chipped and heavy.

Slowly, quietly, his feet making no noise on the wooden plank floor, Karion approaches the sleeping Steve. The man is oblivious to the tall shadow casting menacingly over him.

*CHUNK.* Karion stabs the blade deep into the wooden wall just above Steve’s head and teleports away in a split second. The noise is enough to wake Steve, who looks up and gasps at the sword embedded in the wall.

The message it sends is clear: “Look how close this sword is. I could have killed you easily.”

Only thing is, Steve doesn’t know who did it. A rival person, perhaps? Suspecting this, he climbs carefully out of bed. Griefers are not content to just kill the owner of a house; they also steal his possessions. Steve examines his home for signs of a ransacking. He finds none; everything is just as he left it.

Struggling to pull the sword out of the wall, Steve marvels at how deep it had been driven in, especially for a blunt old stone sword. Someone strong had done it. But if it hadn’t been another person…

“It was a mob, no doubt,” Steve muses. “but which of them are strong enough to do that?” As if to answer his question, some of the purple dust floating through the air makes him sneeze.

“Of course,” he says darkly. Forget skipping the night. Something more important has just cropped up. After grabbing his prized diamond sword and sliding it securely into its sheath at his hip, Steve sets out into the night.

But not before grabbing a bucket full of water.

Horseshoe Lake.

9:34 AM.

A chestnut stallion dips his snout into the crystal surface of the lake and takes big gulps of the cool, refreshing water. The morning sunlight gilds his back golden. It feels good to have his saddle off once in awhile.

Meanwhile, a zombie sits cross-legged on the ground next to him, looking contemplatively at a map. He marks it here and there with a piece of charcoal.

“Okay,” Joel murmurs to himself, putting away the charcoal, “I found Arnold and Trevor so far. That leaves just two more folks…for now. You can handle that, right, Copper?”

Copper neighs happily, as if to answer, “Of course!”

Joel strokes the satin-like hair on Copper’s head. “That’s a good boy.”

“Help! Help!” someone cries, snagging the zombie’s attention.

“Who’s there?” Joel calls out, attempting to stand up and strap on the rest of his armour at the same time. He hops on one foot, trying to jam a metal boot on the other.

A she-creeper gallops up to him. There’s a panicked look in her eyes. “They got him!”

“Who has who?”

She stutters for a second before managing to spit out “Nimbus! He’s been captured!”

“What? How?” Joel asks, stunned.

“H-he was just out foraging for food when two humans in armour attacked him. But before he could fight them off, they shot some sort of dart at him and there was something in it that made him pass out!”

“You saw this?”

“Yes…oh, what a fool I am! How could I stand idly by while my mate was in danger?” Tears start welling up in her big black eyes.

“Shh…Willow, calm down.” Joel now recognizes who the she-creeper is. “You did the right thing.”

Willow sniffles. “I-I did?”

“Yeah. If you went up against them, I’d bet a similar thing would happen to you. Dew can’t lose his dad and his mom on the same day.”

“I don’t know where they took him, though. I just saw one of them put some sort of iron collar on Nimbus and drag him off. I was too scared to follow.”

Joel cracks his knuckles angrily. Nimbus is a good friend of his. Now they’ve have gone too far.

“I’m going after them. I’ve an inkling of where they might have went.”

“You do?”

Joel nods. “Right into Abendale.”

Willow looks horrified. “N-no. No. Not there. Please. You’ll never make it.”

“Isn’t Nimbus worth it?”

That convinces her. “All right. You have my trust.”

Joel saddles up Copper and hops on, riding off into the misty morning.

Bungle Jungle.

10:40 AM.

Steve slices his diamond sword this way and that. The foliage gives way like butter before a heated knife, falling to the ground in ragged clumps. The massive, vine-cloaked jungle trees tower above him, and golden bars of sunlight stretch across the spaces between treetops.

This trek through Bungle Jungle is incredibly dangerous, but Steve is willing to take the risk. He makes his way through the tangled forest, sword in his hand and revenge on his mind.

“’Atta girl, Tundra,” he encourages his wolf as she blazes the path ahead, following the scent trail. If all goes well, it will lead Steve right to where that pesky Enderman and his buddies are hanging out.

Little does he know that the creature he is seeking out is silently following behind him, watching his every move.

Beans taps Karion’s shoulder to get his attention. Should we try to stop him?

No. Not yet, Karion signs back.

Then when?

At the proper time. For now we’ll follow him.

Isn’t he trying to follow us?

Right. He has no idea that we’re after him. Humans can be so thick sometimes, eh?

Huh. You said it.

Just then the wind shifts and Tundra stops following the scent trail. Her ears perk up and she swings her head this way and that, trying to pinpoint the origin of this new-yet-familiar smell that has reached her nose.

“What is it, girl? Did you find them?”

The wolf spins around, nearly making Steve trip, and heads back the way they were coming from. Confused, her master runs after her.

Tundra stops, coming to a rigid pointer dog-type pose. She barks furiously at something hidden in the tangle of underbrush. Steve catches up to her and grabs her collar before she bolts at the stranger.

Beans and Karion exchange glances. Beans looked horrified, but Karion just looks annoyed.

That blasted wolf found us! Beans signs with shaking hands.

Change of plans. You take the wolf, I’ll take on that scummy human. We’re attacking now, Karion responds.

Quick as a blink, the two Endermen jump out of the shadows, claws drawn. Tundra lunges for Beans, but Karion swats her away. Normally Karion doesn’t like to hurt animals, but right now he has to make an exception.

Steve is set for action too, sword at the ready. The diamond blade whistles as it slashes rapidly through the air. The two-on-two battle begins.

Karion’s claws and Steve’s sword smash together with a resounding *CLANG!* while Beans swipes at Tundra, being careful to avoid her snapping jaws.

While he still sustains a few cuts here and there, Karion is clearly too much for Steve to take. Even though Steve has a diamond sword, the Enderman is a warrior! Karion throws a final hit that strikes his opponent in the back of the head and incapacitates him. Steve flops to the ground, unconscious.

Now, quick! Kill him quick! Beans signals, swatting Tundra back.

It’s not time for that yet, is Karion’s response. Tundra, when she catches sight of her fallen master, rushes to his side and completely forgets about Karion and Beans.

Okay, that stupid mutt’s distracted, signs Karion. Let’s get out of here. We have important work to do.

1:19 PM.

The Whispering Woods.

Karion and Beans (accompanied by Noodle) stroll down a well-worn path. The leafy green canopies of trees block out the sky, yet allow beams of yellow sunlight to punch through and dapple the ground. Karion looks intently at a piece of paper in his hand, while Beans tries to read over his shoulder.

So...where are we going? Beans gestures.

Karion tries to sign a response, but he needs one hand to hold on to the map, and he can't signal with just one hand. Instead, he points to his map. Specifically, he points to a drawing of an unusual stone building that looks like an ancient temple.

What's that? Beans signs.

Karion holds the map in his teeth so both his hands can be free and responds, There are only two contacts left to find. One of them is in the Temple of the Fading Voices, here in the Whispering Woods. Within it live the Brothers of Knowledge.

Who are they?

You'll see. Karion approaches the stone-brick arch and counts the bricks carefully as Beans looks on. Seven up, four over, one across...He presses the brick in. As it slides back, there is a grinding noise. The heavy, iron-barred spruce doors sealing the doorway crank back to reveal a staircase leading down into a curtain of shadows.

Karion looks at Beans expectantly. After you...

2:30 PM.

Abendale Town Hall.

“You are a complete and utter disappointment!” King Ogbar paces back and forth across the Oriental rug situated in front of the fireplace in the meeting-room of the Town Hall. The gold trinkets on his robe clink and jingle like a wind chime as he walks.

“M-my s-s-sincerest ap-pologies, sir,” Walter, the Captain of the Guard, stammers, meekly shrunk down in his seat.

“Every single mob!” The king is so furious he stabs his ceremonial sword into the dark oak table in front of Walter. “Under your watch, every blasted mob in that prison escaped! How does that happen?”

“It won't happen again!” Walter squeaks.

“Fortunately, very fortunately for you, I am a believer in second chances.”

Walter exhales a heavy sigh of relief.

“To prove yourself to me that you are not completely incompetent and useless, you are to do a specialized mission.”

“Oh, anything for you, king.”

“Yeah, yeah, save the flattery. Your guards have reported to me that they believe the mob responsible for this debacle is a certain zombie. He is...very famous. Known for wearing iron helmets and riding chestnut stallions...and partaking in a mob rebellion...the zombie's name is Joel.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Joel the Zombie is a ringleader in the mob rebellion. If we are rid of him, we are rid of the rebellion's morale. Therefore, I hereby declare a bounty on his head. Bring me his corpse posthaste.”

Excited by this daring new assignment, Walter the Head Guard smirks and lays a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I won't disappoint, sire.”

3:09 PM.

Someone's house.

Steve awakens to the worst headache of his life. He holds a hand to his pounding skull and groans, “Ohh...where am I?”

“Oh, good, you're waking up,” a female voice says nearby. When his vision focuses, Steve can see a ginger-haired woman in green standing by.

“Huh? Who are you?” Steve frantically starts going for his sword, only to discover that his sword-belt is gone. “And what did you do with my sword? TELL ME!”

“Woah, woah. Take it easy, big guy. Your sword's right here.” The woman holds up the leather belt with the trusty diamond blade hanging from it. “You were knocked out pretty good, out there in the Bungle Jungle. I found you just lying on the ground out cold. Whoops, forgot to introduce myself. My name's Alex.”

“Where's Tundra?” Steve demands, rather rudely.

“Tundra? Who's Tundra? Oh, is that your wolf?”

“Yeah! What did you do with her?” Steve sits up, looking like he's about to rush at Alex for a fight.

“Re-lax,” Alex soothes. “She's just fine. In fact...” She whistles loudly and, moments later, the cloud-grey wolf bounds jovially into the room.

“Tundra!” Steve exclaims happily and strokes her head.

“So, ah, are you going to tell me who you are?” Alex asks, tapping her foot on the oaken floorboards.

“Oh. Right.” Steve looks a little embarrassed for getting distracted. “My name's Steve. I was fighting an Enderman in the jungle...” He trails off, not wanting to admit that he lost.

“And you obviously lost.”

“Well...yeah.”

“Hey, it's okay. We all lose fights sometimes. You're gonna get your revenge, though, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Steve says darkly. “Hand me my sword, willya?”

Alex tosses the sword-belt across the room. Steve stands up and catches it. He feels tough again as soon as he slips it on and buckles it securely.

“Well, I gotta go.” Steve whistles for Tundra and leaves the house without another word. A disgruntled Alex chases after him, running out into the yard.

“Hey!” she yells. “A simple 'thank you' would be nice! ...Ugh.”

3:54 PM.

Western Woodlands.

“Don't forget Joel, Karion will be calling another meeting soon. Be sure to meet at the official base,” Nimbus calls after Joel before ducking into his den.

“Right, right. See you around!” Joel hops on his horse. He flicks the reins and Copper settles into a steady gallop. The wilderness flies by on either side in smears of green and brown.

Copper neighs as if to ask, 'Where to next?'

Joel checks his list of contacts and then the map. “One last recruit. Pip.” He sighs. “How am I going to find a little silverfish in a giant stone stronghold?”

At the edge of the Western Woodlands, a stronghold half sunk into the ground looms. Almost all of the stone bricks making the exterior wall are either blanketed in fuzzy green moss or crumbling to rubble. Joel dismounts and approaches the large arch making the doorway.

A boulder is blocking the entrance. At first, Joel tries pushing it away, to no avail. Both he and Copper try to shove it out of the way, but the giant rock refuses to budge.

“Haaaaa-ugggh!” Joel grunts, pressing with all his might against the stone. He almost kicks it in frustration, but realizes how foolish that is and refrains. Instead, he gets an idea.

“I don't like doing this. It drags me down to his level,” the zombie complains as he takes out a stone pickaxe from hammerspace. He feels the boulder and examines the tool in his hand. “Do I even remember how to do this?”

Copper snuffles.

“On the count of three. One...two...three!” At 'three', Joel swings the pickaxe back and smacks it against the boulder. It cracks a little. He repeats the routine many times, until the large rock is nothing but a pile of rubble.

“Whew...Steve makes that look a lot easier than it really is.” Joel slips the pickaxe back into hammerspace and carefully steps over the rubble.

Behind the remains of the boulder is a set of iron double doors. They are intricately carved with engravings of wolves and horses. And oh yeah, they're also rusted shut.

“Seriously?!”

4:15 PM.

Temple of the Fading Voices

Karion and Beans' clawed feet clack on the hard stone floor as they walk down a dark hallway. Karion holds a torch that provides only a small cube of orange light in the suffocating shadows. All around them, the air seems to be filled with faint voices, whispering something in Karion's ears that he can't understand.

So why do they call it the Temple of Fading Voices? Beans signs, although it's not so easy to see his hands in the dark.

Can't you hear them? Karion responds.

Beans shoots him an acidic look. No.

Karion's face turns a fine shade of crimson. Sorry.

They go on for a little while longer until they come to a cobweb-covered, forgotten old door at the end of the corridor. The hinge has rusted to the point where it's almost immobilized. Both Endermen struggle to open it, shoving against with all their might. Finally, the ancient hinges squeak loudly in protest and the door swings open.

Beyond it is a large library that smells of musty paper and dust. Classy glass chandeliers provide a soft golden illumination for the room. Tall bookcases stretch up toward the ceiling like castle towers, each one packed with books. Barring the dust on the floor and cobwebs on the ceiling, it's a bookworm's paradise.

We're here. Karion approaches a bookcase and runs his hand along the leather spines of the books with a quiet admiration.

Beans accidently knocks over a stack of books, kicking up a cloud of dust. He sneezes three times in a row. Kind of dusty.

Yeah, but besides that, isn't it great?

Not much of a reader, Beans shrugs. It's okay.

There's the sound of lots of little legs on the ceiling and they both look up. A spider is crawling around amongst the cobwebs. With a graceful flip, he jumps off and glides expertly down one of those sliding ladders that all the greatest libraries and bookstores have.

“Salutations, gentlemen,” the spider greets them in a refined British accent, dipping his head in a small bow.

“Splendid to see you again, Theophilus.” Karion returns the little bow.

“What is it you require?”

“The Time has come.” Karion's tone suddenly gets much more serious. “You and your brother have some of the finest intellect I have seen and the resistance is in need of it.”

“Ah, yes,” says Theophilus, adjusting his specially-made goggles of eight lenses. “Nicodemus and I have been discussing that. It has certainly come to our attention that there appears to be a war brewing between us and...the humans.”

“Did someone call me?” Another spider, slightly larger than Theophilus, crawls down from the rafters.

“That I did, Nicodemus. The resistance needs both of you. Now if you would kindly accompany us to the base, we could--”

“Hold on a minute,” Nicodemus interrupts. “Did you suggest we should leave the library?”

“Well...I can't move the whole resistance into the Temple of Fading Voices.”

Beans watches them talk, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. He wishes he could hear what they are saying.

Nicodemus slowly, deliberately swings his head from side to side. “That, I am afraid, I cannot do. You see, my brother and I have hidden ourselves in the Temple for years. We did so because the outside world is full of danger and corruption.”

Well, Karion isn't backing down, either. He sits on a pile of books, stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest, and says, “We can argue all night if you wish. Either Beans and I leave with you two coming along or we don't leave at all. We need your help.”

5:03 PM.

Abendale (again.)

The Townsies look up from their menial work to see a man on horseback trot into their city. That's nothing new, so they turn their attention back to their chores.

They think the horseman is a stranger, but that's not true. In fact, he's one of the most well-known figures in Minecraftia—if not the most well-known figure. The guy stops in the town square, jumps off his horse, and stands on a platform where everyone can see.

There he whistles loudly to catch the Townsies' attention and slips off his hood. The Townsies gasp when that hood hits the ground and they see whose face it had been concealing.

“Abendale folk,” Steve addresses the people. “I am here to tell--”

He's interrupted as the Townsies break out in applause.

“--Okay, thank you, thank you, you're very kind...now listen, please. I have something important to say. I'm here because I'm on a strike mission, a search for a particular Enderman. The beast has nearly killed me not once but twice and I want my revenge.”

The crowd murmurs unhappily, not sure where he's going with this.

“My revenge,” Steve continues, “cannot be brought alone. I request a few of your brave men, Abendale, to accompany me into the fray. It will be a dangerous and scary quest, but a rewarding one as well.”

Despite that he empties a handful of gleaming emeralds from a pouch and holds them out in the sunshine for all to see, the crowd keeps muttering and no-one volunteers. Clearly, the Abendellians are not interested.

“What!” Steve shouts, aggravated that nobody will step up. “No-one will come? Not even for a stack of emeralds?”

The people are silent. Then, the crowd splits like the Red Sea and one solitary person approaches the platform. He looks up confidently at Steve. Or rather, she does.

“I'll go,” Alex says.

5:34 PM.

Pip's stronghold.

CRASH! With an grating metallic shriek, the iron doors sealing the stronghold shut are broken clean off their hinges and clatter to the floor. Joel stands in the threshold, panting and holding a heavy log he was using as a battering ram.

“Not too shabby, eh?”

He tosses the log aside and enters the stronghold. Inside it is drafty, dark, and rather cold. Joel shivers a little and regrets leaving his cloak behind in Abendale.

“Ah, well, not much I can do 'bout it now,” he says. He whistles for Copper to follow. The stallion trots after him and, with some difficulty, squeezes through the door.

“Okay...” Joel trails off, not having the slightest idea what to do next. He decides to go with yelling: “PIP! PIIIIIIIIIP! Come out!”

Somewhere in the floor or the walls, a muffled voice says, “What's all that yelling about? I'm coming, I'm coming!”

There is the rattling of some stones and a silverfish's head pops out of a stone brick block. Pip squirms out of his burrow and crawls across the floor to Joel.

“Yo,” says the little bug when he reaches the zombie. “How's it going, Joel?”

“Howdy. No time for chitchat,” Joel dismisses. “I'm here for an important mission.”

“What would that be?”

“Well, the both of us know full well that you're one of the best spies in the Overworld. Remember the Cookie Incident?”

Pip giggles. “Yeah...That was a good one.”

Joel clears his throat. “But now, on to more serious business. We're on the verge of a war with the humans.”

“Uh-huh?”

“And we—that is, Karion and I—we want you to be the spy for the resistance. You're little, and you can hide in stone blocks. You're the perfect bug for the job.”

Pip thinks about this for a second, then slowly nods. “Count me in, buddy.”

6:12 PM

The mob base (finally!)

Far away from the reaches of human civilization, there is a tall mountain. Reaching for the clear blue sky and crowned by a ring of clouds, it makes for an imposing sight.

Within the mountain, a ragtag group of mobs gathers quietly. Thousands of colourful glowing crystals set in the rocky ceiling illuminate the main chamber. In its center, a massive slab of obsidian glitters under the lights. Already, Isaac, Liz, Nimbus, and others have gathered around it, waiting impatiently.

Isaac checks his clock. “They said they'd be here...right now.”

“Maybe they're running late,” Nimbus suggests.

“They'd better get here lo mas pronto posible,” Liz grumbles. “Any day now, the Humans are going to find our base and next thing we know, they'll be beating down our doors. We need a plan.”

“And I have one,” says a familiar voice. In a burst of purple sparkles, Karion appears, dangling a spider from each hand.

“This is very uncouth of you, Karion!” Theophilus complains, caught in the Enderman's iron grip.

“Unhand us at once, you ruffian!” shouts Nicodemus.

“Hey,” Karion says, setting the spiders on the ground. “You have plenty of enemies in the humans. No need to make yet another of me.”

Muttering about Karion's uncouthness, the disgruntled spider brothers scuttle off into the recesses of the cave.

“They'll be back later,” Karion says casually.

“Where's Joel?” asks a Slime.

“Well, you do have to remember that he can't teleport like I can. His horse can't exactly keep up with me.”

“Are we supposed to wait for who knows how long, so he can ride over here on his pony?” Liz asks, impatiently tapping one of her rods on the table.

“No. I can fill him in on it later...but I won’t be happy about it. Gather around the slab, everyone.”

The faces of every type of mob—from sheep to shulkers—stare back at him expectantly. The Enderman gulps, suddenly feeling a little unsure of himself, then quickly recollects himself and begins.

“As you know, since the dawn of time, we mobs have been at odds with mankind. You see, these humans...they are clever, but they are greedy and cruel. They invade this pristine world...”

The other mobs quickly pick up on their familiar mantra. “...claiming it as their own simply by their presence...” says Isaac.

“...they slaughter innocent animals for their hides and their flesh...” a cow laments.

“...they devastate the landscape and gouge out the earth to build their monuments to vanity...” mumbles a zombie.

“...and yet they call us the monsters,” Nimbus concludes.

A sober silence hangs in the room. Karion nods slowly.

“Humans are capable of unfathomable cruelty and destruction. For the sake of our homeworlds and they who live therein, we cannot allow this to continue. So I say—Mobs...the Players have brutally slain us and laid waste to the land since time immemorial...shall we allow it?”

He is answered by a unanimous, resounding “NO!”

“Well then! Anyone who will not stand up for his or her family and homeland is welcome to leave.” Karion levels a hard stare at the crowd.

No-one moves.

“Now,” says the Enderman, unfurling a large map, “let me show you what we will do.”

7:34 PM

An unidentified plains.

“I still don't think you have the guts for this, Alex,” Steve says, trying to dissuade her, as they wander through a hilly plain. Tundra’s nose is practically driven into the ground as she sniffs with fervor to find the Enderman’s scent.

“I still think you're underestimating me,” Alex counters curtly. “And do you even know how you're going to track this Enderman you so desperately want revenge against?”

Steve stops in his tracks when he realizes that he, in fact, doesn't know. “Uhm...”

“Precisely. You’re only vaguely following the trail. We’ll never catch up at this rate.”

“Don’t be so snooty!” Steve whines. “You were the one who wanted to go on this trip.”

“Stand aside.” Alex steps up to the front of the group and starts rummaging through her inventory.

“Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure I was leading the expedition.”

“Shut up.” Alex takes out a small bottle of a magenta powder.

“What in the Overworld is that?”

“Blaze powder, sugar, and a smidgen of magenta dye.”

“What do we need that for? We have Tundra to sniff out the Enderman.”

“I don’t think so.” Alex glances at the wolf walking in circles around them, snuffling heartily but getting nowhere. “The scent’s gone cold.”

“So how’s your magic...stuff going to help, then?”

“It will turn orange in the presence of that dust Endermen leave when they teleport.”

Steve nods, a sarcastic smirk on his face. “Sure. Totally.”

“Watch and learn, big guy.” Alex uncorks the bottle and taps it against her hand to shake out a handful of the curious-smelling dust. She blows it out of her hand. It scatters and swirls through the air. When it settles on the grass, it shimmers and, sure enough, turns a brilliant shade of orange.

“See? What did I tell you?” Alex says. “Now it looks like we’re heading the wrong direction. According to what I’m gathering from the patterns of the dust, it went east.”

“Wow. Where can I get some of that Ender-tracker dust?” Steve asks, staring in wonder at the glowing orange stuff frosting the ground.

“We’ll worry about that later.”

“Why do you need magenta dye?”

“Chemical reactions. If I don’t add it, then the powder will be orange to begin with. It needs to have some color to change from.”

“Oh. Makes sense. ...Are you sure you can’t show me how to craft that right now?”

“Come ON, Steve!” Alex is already heading off eastward.

Having no-one else to complain to, Steve turns to his faithful wolf. “Why did I think it would be a good idea to bring a girl along on my mission? So bossy--”

“I heard that, you little misogynist!” Alex calls back to him. “Let’s get a move on, people!”

8:03 PM.

Mob resistance base.

“Well, it’s about time you came,” Karion says to Joel as the zombie, his horse, and his silverfish friend arrive at the meeting chamber. The tone of annoyance in his voice is painfully obvious.

“Sorry,” Joel squeaks. “Pip and I were talking, and we got a little carried away...then we got lost coming over here…But here we are. We’re ready for the meeting!”

The Enderman is sitting in a red armchair, reading The Federalist Papers. He lowers the book and glares at the two mobs.

“The meeting ended an hour and a half ago,” Karion says, his voice level but still full of venom.

“Sorry,” Joel says again.

“Let’s try to be more punctual next time, eh?” Karion stands up and coolly walks away.

“Uhp,” Joel gulps.

Pip manages a “Wow,” and nothing else.

“Yeah…” Joel says, voice unsteady. “Karion’s a good guy, but you do not want to get him annoyed with you. No sir.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“Well, maybe Karion left some papers or something on the meeting table. He said that whenever I was a little late he’d fill me in that way…”

“So why wouldn’t he do it this time?”

“Because I’m a lot late this time.” Regardless, they stroll over to the obsidian table. Sure enough, there is a marked-up map and some papers with notes scribbled on them scattered over the glassy surface.

As Pip scuttles over the tabletop, Joel picks up the map and a few papers and studies them intently. The map is hopelessly scribbled and the zombie can’t make anything of the wild lines and pinpoints. The papers make no more sense, seeming to be nothing but clipped notes.

“Oh, that’s it.” Joel tosses the paper bundle into the air and the pages flutter to the floor like big, clumsy white leaves.

“Hey,” a Spanish-accented voice says. The air heats up unexpectedly as Liz floats over to them.

The she-blaze glances down at the mess of papers around Joel’s feet. “What are you doing with all those old notes? Here, let me take care of those. Step aside.”

Joel has barely stepped aside when Liz blows a gust of fire over the pages, effectively incinerating them. “There. Didn’t need those anymore.”

The zombies throws up his hands in exasperation. “Well, so much for finding out what’s going on.”

Liz chuckles. “Oh, that’s right. You missed the meeting. Better ask Karion what’s up. Good luck.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Joel mutters as the she-Blaze floats away.

8:41 PM.

Some sort of wilderness plains.

“All right, men, that’s enough traveling for the day,” Walter tells his knights. All breathing giant sighs of relief, the knights flop on the ground and throw down their halberds and spears.

“Hey, hey, hey, no lazing around yet.” Walter grabs the nearest man by the wrists and hauls him to his feet. “We need to set up camp for the night. You unpack the tents, you get them set up, and you get us started on dinner.” He points from man to man rapidly, making them a bit confused.

They bumble along in the dark, aggravating Walter when they argue over who has what job, but eventually manage to erect a crude tent village. The designated cook kneels over a fire pit, fanning the newly-sparked flames and setting up a roasting spit.

“Well, at least they aren’t totally incompetent,” Walter mumbles, not realizing how he just said almost the exact thing his boss said to him before they left on their strike mission.

The cook spears some steaks and pork chops on the spits and slowly roasts them over the fire. The smell of cooking meat permeates the camp, making the tired and hungry knights nearly drool in anticipation of dinner. They haven’t eaten since their lame breakfast of buttered bread this morning.

Walter passes out steaks and grilled pork chops to his men and they sit on the grass for their late dinner, being careful to remain in the square of light provided by the fire and away from the darkness fraught with danger.

“Okay, men,” Walter says, voice muffled from his mouthful of meat, “we’ll probably find our target tomorrow. So, let’s review. What do we do when we see Joel the Zombie?”

“Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!” One of the knights raises his hand and waves it around in the air wildly like an elementary school child.

“Yes? What shall we do?”

“Run ‘im right through with our halberd or spear, sir!” The knight picks up his weapon and lunges it through the air to illustrate his point.

“Well, not exactly. Remember what we discussed? You guys are just supposed to corner him or whatever. We all agreed that I get to kill him. It’s my mission to begin with, after all.”

“Nuh uh!” another knight protests. “We want to do it!”

“NO!” Walter screams. “Killing him is my job!”

The exchange quickly spirals down into a childish petty argument that becomes a screaming match. A few punches are thrown, and a tent bites the dust.

“Okay, stop, STOP!” shouts one of the more diplomatic knights. “This will be hard enough without us all fightin’ each other. How about we just let Walter kill the zombie? He’s the leader, anyway.”

The men groan in disappointment, then give begrudging assent. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Okay. Now that we’ve straightened that out, let’s review again,” Walter says. “So what do we do when we see Joel the Zombie?”

“Attack and corner,” the men drone.

“Then what?”

“Call Walter. Let him kill Joel,” they say with zero enthusiasm.

“Good, good. And after that?”

“Take the body to King Ogbar.” Some melodramatic bored sighs.

“And then we’ll have a feast! ‘Cause we slayed the beast!”

The knights giggle at his unintentional rhyme.

“What? What’s so funny?”

The giggling becomes full-out laughter as Walter remains oblivious.

“Okay, party’s over! All of you, get to your tents! We’ll reassemble in the morning.”

Not needing to be told twice, the tired knights stumble off to their temporary barracks for a good night’s sleep. When the last one has slipped inside his tent, Walter tosses one last log on the fire to keep it going through the night and retires to his own tent.

“Ugh,” he grumbles as he settles into his bed-roll. “I swear it’s like I’m leading a group of kids. Except they’re kids in armor. With weapons.”

+ Blood is only mentioned in non-violent manners in my fan-fictions, such as talking about someone’s blood “freezing” when they are terrified or “boiling” when they’re furious. This is to fit in with the theme of “no blood” in Minecraft, and to keep the mind’s images less gruesome.

+ Tonto is the latest villager king of Potatoville. His name is the Spanish word for “silly” or “dumb.”

+ Liz Fuego's name is also a Spanish reference. In Spanish, “el fuego” is “the fire.” Her full first name, Elizabeth, is also an anagram for “I, the Blaze.”

+ Keep calm and Karion. His name can be pronounced like that, “carry on,” or “kah-ree-ohn.” Whichever is easier/preferable for you to say.

+ No Easy Ride's goal is to flip the conventional idea of who’s good and who’s bad in Minecraft on its head. Here we have a zombie--which most portray as stumbling, groaning dullards--who’s adventurous, resourceful, and loves his horse like a brother. The sensitive side of the creeper is shown--they just want to keep their family safe and happy. The Endermen are usually cool and confident, like in most stories, but Beans, Ayva, and even Karion have their awkward, goofy moments. The spider brothers are bookworms and logical thinkers instead of vicious night hunters. On the other hand, typical heroes like Steve and Alex are revealed to be full of faults--Steve is a rude grudge-holder and a bit of a meathead, while Alex is bossy and sarcastic.

+ Karion has a habit where, when he gets bored, he’ll pull his copy of The Federalist Papers out of nowhere and read until someone or something interrupts him. Why the Federalist Papers? The first time I wrote about that little habit of his, we had just finished talking about the book in my AP United States History class and I needed a classy old book for a classy Enderman to read.

+ Just like players, mobs can pull items out of seemingly nowhere. This suggests that mobs also have personal inventories to store items in hammerspace.

+ Joel’s name was originally meant to be just a placeholder until I could come up with a better name. It stuck anyway. *shrugs* That happens with characters sometimes for me. And now I smile to myself every time I see the splash text “Joel is neat!” on the Minecraft start menu.

+ Do Karion and Joel remind anyone else of Bart and Dave from Slamacow’s animations?

Crystal Fields.

Chapter 24

The temperature has taken a dramatic drop and now whenever Steve or Alex exhale, their breath forms a curly white cloud around their faces before dissolving into the air. A heavy layer of gray cloud-cover rolls over the sky, blotting out the sun. Soon enough, snowflakes start to swirl down from the heavens and collect in soft white piles on the ground.

“Y-You d-d-did-dn’t t-t-tell m-me w-we would b-be g-go-going this f-far north,” Steve complains, his teeth chattering from the cold.

“I d-did-didn’t know the tr-trail w-would lee-lead here,” Alex replies, rubbing her arms. “M-man, I wi-wish I had p-p-packed a c-cloak.”

“I w-wonder…” Steve rummages through his inventory until he finally produces two blocks of wool from hammerspace. He pulls on and stretches the cloth until he has two makeshift cloaks, one red and one green. He ties on the red one and tosses the green at Alex. Caught off guard, she fumbles it and drops it in the snow.

“Dang it, Alex. Can’t you catch?”

Alex ignores him and puts on the cloak. She wraps it around herself and sighs contentedly. “Ah. Much better.”

Alex has been continually throwing that Ender-tracker dust on the ground to lead them to here, with Steve and Tundra impatiently following behind, the former wishing that he was still leading the expedition and bitter that Alex won’t show him how to craft the dust.

“Oh, shoot!” Alex cries all of a sudden.

“What? What’s the matter?”

Alex turns back to Steve and shows him an empty bottle. “We’re out of dust.”

“Oh, that’s just fabulous, Alex,” Steve growls. “You led us all the way up to the frozen nowhere with your magic dust and now we’re lost. What’s better, we’ll probably freeze to death out here. Way to go, Alex. This is just wonderful. You always make the best plans.” Fuming, he paces in pouty, stomping circles. “I should’ve never let you lead this strike mission in the first place!”

Alex is enraged at Steve’s little monologue about her foolishness. “Shut up! Just shut up, you big, old oaf!” She is so furious that she shoves Steve with all her might, sending him falling backwards into a mound of snow. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be wandering around those stupid plains looking for a stupid Enderman you’d never find! Stupid!”

Steve scrambles to his feet. He responds with a shove of his own. “Better to be wandering in those plains than dying out here!”

A great deal of pushes, slaps, and punches are thrown in this catfight. Both of them are so angry at each other that they forget how cold they are. The scuffle goes on for a good five minutes before Tundra starts barking at them, almost as if to tell them to “Break it up!”

Steve pushes Alex away. “See, now look what you’ve done. You’ve gone and gotten Tundra all upset.”

“Oh, no!” Alex howls in mock sorrow. “And now your wolf is upset! How terrible. Anything but your wolf. Whatever can I do to atone for my transgression?”

“Stop that!” Steve cries indignantly. If there’s one thing he can’t stand...besides a lot of things like surprise creeper attacks, not being able to reach a vein of diamond ore, or accidentally dropping his items in lava...it’s people mocking his precious pet wolf.

Tundra now stops barking and actually BITES both of their feet--not hard enough to cause damage, but enough to make them stop fighting and focus. Steve and Alex yelp in painful surprise and whirl on the wolf.

“Ow! Tundra, what was that for?” Steve rubs his bitten ankle.

Tundra whimpers and points her muzzle at a tall, thick mountain not terribly far off.

“Ha-ha!” Steve shouts triumphantly. “No way is that any old mountain! I bet there’s a city or something hidden in there!” He bounces through the knee-deep snow like a happy foal experiencing winter for the first time. “Come on, Alex! Let’s go!”

Alex shrugs and sloshes through the slush after him.

Resistance base.

Chapter 25

“The key is that we must be on the defense,” Karion explains, pointing at the map spread out on a wooden table.

“Why’s that? We stand a better chance of winning if we attack on the offense,” counters Joel.

“Attacking on the offense is risky business, honor speaking. We can’t be the instigators, or else we’re making ourselves the bad ones. If we went offensive, anything that happened to the innocent would be our fault.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Joel shifts in his seat. “I still think we’re more likely to win if we do offensive.”

“Muchachos and their arguments,” Liz mutters to herself, but she’s overheard by Joel and Karion.

“Well, what do you think, then, Liz?” they both ask.

“Eh,” Liz says. “Much as I’d like to zoom over by Abendale right now and torch them, I’m going to go with Karion on this one.”

“Defense it is!” Karion declares.

Naturally, Joel gets upset that they aren’t going with his plan and starts to argue with Karion. Liz, having no desire to watch them quarrel yet again, leaves the meeting chamber and floats aimlessly around the base.

Mobs of all kinds pass her by. Most stop to greet her, but others are too busy making preparations for a war. Liz slips through the doorway and ascends the stairs leading up to the observation deck. The deck is a small room, filled with a variety of old brass astronomical instruments. A telescope pokes out of a small hole in the stone mountain. Liz peers out the telescope, angling it this way and that.

Below is the windblown snow, a frozen-over pond, and a few stubborn, scraggly plants, toughened by the elements over time. But then...two figures, two obviously human figures, bound into view, trailing wool cloaks behind them. One is a ginger-haired woman in green, while the other is a man bearing the unmistakable cyan T-shirt and silly purple pants.

Liz is so startled she drops the telescope on the floor. The lens shatters, but she is too distracted to care. She tears out of the observation deck in a flaming blur, zooming down staircases and across catwalks until she practically blasts down the door to the meeting chamber.

“¡Socorro! Red alert!” she cries to Karion and Joel, who are still reviewing battle strategies.

“What in the world? Liz, what’s wrong?” Karion sets down the map and walks over to her.

“They are here.”

She doesn’t get to say anything else, because the sound of the secret doors of stone scraping as they slid across the threshold commands their attention.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice calls. “Is anyone home?”

“Is that…?” Karion whispers as he scrambles to the edge of the balcony and peers down.

“...Oh, no,” he says, shrinking back to hide.

For at the bottom of the mountain base, there stand none other than Steve and Alex.

Outside Abendale, on the Horse Plains.

Chapter 26

*CAVEAT: This Ayva is NOT the same as my LAAM Ayva!*

“This is bad, bad, bad,” Pip says to himself. He paces in scuttling circles on the grass. He hops up on the wheel of a broken-down pushcart filled with decomposing hay to think about how he would relay the bad news to Karion and the others.

This part of the plains, immediately outside the city, is strewn with broken carts, piles of kitchen waste, metal rubbish bins, broken tools, and other refuse. Pip jumps in surprise when he hears one of those rubbish bins tip over and strike another with a loud crash nearby.

“Hey! Who’s there?” he calls, jumping off the cart. He gets ready to rapidly jump at and bite the enemy that might appear.

“If you’ve come for trouble, human, then you’ve found it!” a female voice, trying to sound braver than she really is, shouts back at him. “I’m not going back to your dingy dungeon!”

“I’m no human.” The piles of junk prevent him from seeing her and vice versa.

“What are you, then?”

“Just a little silverfish; no need to be alarmed. Please show yourself, ma’am.”

“If this is a trick...you’re going to be sorry!” After giving the insincere threat, a lanky Enderwoman slinks out from behind a heap of rubbish. Her muscles are tense and her claws are extended. She relaxes only slightly when she sees that Pip is indeed a silverfish and not a human come to drag her back to the slammer.

“I’m alone,” Pip says, hoping it will calm her down to know that there aren’t any people in hiding, ready to spring on her.

“As if I’m going to believe that.”

“Why would a silverfish help a bunch of humans?”

The Enderwoman retracts her claws when the disarming question sinks in. “You make a good point. But what are you here for? Who are you, anyway?”

“My name’s Pip. I was just doing a little bit of spy work and I was returning back to my base. And who may you be, ma’am?”

“I’m Ayva.” She points at the city, a short distance away. “I was stuck in the clink in Abendale until a couple days ago when the door malfunctioned and I escaped. I’ve been hiding out here ever since.”

“Your door malfunctioned, you say?” That sounds familiar to Pip.

“Yeah. And apparently, so did everyone else’s. The hallways were a free-for-all, us mobs trying to get out and the guards trying to keep us in.”

“Ah. I know about that. In fact, Ayva, that was no mere malfunction. Someone snuck in the jail and cut the main power cable.”

“Really?”

“And what’s more, I know who it was.”

“Who?”

“A friend of mine, and a co-ringleader to the mob rebellion. I should really be getting back to him. I’ve got important news for him.”

“Wait,” Ayva says. “This resistance, they don’t happen to meet in a giant mountain, by any chance?”

“How did you know?”

“I’ve overheard mobs talking about it--you know, when the guards weren’t around--and Pip, I want in. I wanna be part of your rebellion.”

“Do you know where the mountain is?”

“Actually, yeah. I’ve just never had to guts to go over there. I’m sure you’d mistake me for a threat. But they wouldn’t if you came with me.”

“So...wait. Are you telling me we can just teleport over to the mountain?” Pip grins. “I don’t have to walk all the way back?”

“Sure, I can teleport us there. I mean, I’ll need to stop every once in a while to take a breather and everything, but--”

“Okay, okay, I get your point. But do hurry. We don’t have a lot of time, Ayva. Ogbar’s looking for good places in his palace to hang Karion’s head as we speak.”

“Karion? Did you say Karion?”

“Yes, I did. He’s our leader. You knew that, right?”

“You bet I did!” Ayva’s purple eyes sparkle. “He is SUCH a good fighter. So cool under pressure. And not too hard on the eyes, either--”

“Ayva! Focus!” Pip cuts off the Enderwoman’s romantic daydream. “Just pick me up and teleport us to the mountain.”

“All right, all right. Sorry.” Ayva scoops up Pip with both hands and the two of them dissolve into the folds of the fabric of time and space in a teleport.

Resistance base.

“Hello?” Alex calls, her voice echoing off the stone walls. “Is anyone home?”

“Yeah, anyone home?” Steve shouts.

They are met with silence. No-one responds.

“This place is abandoned.” Alex shrugs and turns to leave, but Steve stops her by grabbing her shoulder.

“No, wait, we should at least get a look around,” he says. “You know, see what kind of loot this place has.”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of creeping me out. Like, who lives in a hollow mountain?” Alex stares at the colorful, glowing crystals embedded in the walls. Curiously, she goes up to and hesitantly punches one. It zaps her lightly with a small charge of electricity, making her jump back in surprise.

“Whoa! Weird,” she comments, approaching the crystal again. “What are these crystal things?”

“Who cares?” Keep an eye out for chests of loot.” Steve continues his pursuit of treasure.

Meanwhile, Karion, Joel, and Liz are crouched on a high catwalk, peeking ever-so-slightly down at their unwelcome visitors.

“What do we do?” Liz whispers to Karion.

“I-I don’t know.” For one of the first times ever, Liz can see fear in Karion’s eyes. “We don’t have time to deal with these two. Not with a war brewing over in Abendale and who knows where else. Not. Now!”

“But if we don’t do anything, they’ll leave and go back to their villages, and they’ll spill the beans on our hideout’s location. We have to stop them somehow!” Joel hisses.

Just then, in the painful silence, there is the sound of an Enderman teleporting. All three mobs can’t help but let short gasps escape, and they stare at each other in horror.

“Our cover’s blown!” Liz panics.

Steve whips around. “What was that?”

“It sounded like an Enderman teleporting,” Alex suggests.

An Enderwoman appears next to the three mobs in a puff of sparkles, carrying a silverfish.

“We’d better investigate. But watch out for the Enderman. Don’t look it in the eyes.” The mobs can hear Steve instructing Alex from below.

“This isn’t my first Enderman encounter, you know,” Alex sneers.

“Hi, you guys must be Karion and Joel. I’ve heard a lot about you. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I finally get to meet you. Wait, where are my manners? My name’s Ayva, and Joel, I’ve brought your friend Pip. Say, why are you three lying on the ground and staring at something down there?”

Joel snaps his head up to glare at her, holding a hand over his mouth in a signal to shut up. Ayva drops Pip, who scrambles away and hides in a stone block.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Ayva says in a much quieter voice, crouching down to their level. “But seriously, what are y’all looking at?”

Karion points downwards and Ayva leans over the side of the catwalk to see Steve and Alex still wandering around on the ground floor.

“Huh. I could’ve sworn I heard someone talking just now,” Steve says, glancing around.

“Maybe it came from up--Oh, WOW! Look!” Alex cranks her neck back to gawk at the complex network of platforms and catwalks running across the open space overhead.

“Well, there’s a ladder right there. Let’s get a better look.” Steve hops on the ladder and scales it, jumping onto the first of the bridges. His shoes slap against the slick metal as he runs across it to the next ladder.

“Hey, wait for me.” Alex does the same, chasing after him.

“They’re coming up here,” Liz notes with no small amount of alarm. “What do we do?”

Joel stands up and cracks his knuckles. “The only thing left to do. We fight them.” Karion and Liz nod, and stand up as well. The foursome whirl around to face the ladder that the human trespassers will soon be climbing.

The sound of Steve’s shoes and Alex’s practical boots smacking the metal walkways starts to slow, soon followed by the creaking of the last ladder.

“Listos,” Liz whispers to the others. The mobs’ muscles tense as they prepare for the fight. Joel slides his sword out of its scabbard. Liz’s rods pick up speed in their spin, and Karion and Ayva unsheath their claws.

A moment later, Steve crawls out onto the catwalk, followed shortly thereafter by Alex. It takes him all of one second to spot the four mobs standing before him.

“Monsters!” he yells, and whips out his diamond sword. Alex also calls the mobs “monsters” and gets out her bow, loading an arrow on it and stretching the string back as far as it will go.

“End of the line, Steve.” Karion makes for a frightful sight, with his wicked claws extended and his huge fangs on full display. “GET. OUT. Go, get out of here, and don’t ever come back. I won’t say it again.”

“Hey!” Alex snaps at the Enderman. “You can’t talk to Steve that way, you dumb Enderman!”

“I’ll bet you’re the one who broke into my house and tried to kill me in Bungle Jungle,” Steve accuses. “Well, it’s time to finish the battle. Except the outcome will be different this time. When we’re done here, I’m going to have a nice pair of Enderman skin boots.”

“We’ll see about that,” Joel spits, waving his sword.

“And I’m going to teach y’all a lesson with my bow,” Alex boasts, bowstring yanked back to almost breaking point and her scrawny arm shaking from the strain of holding its draw weight.

“Well, I can’t hit a girl,” Karion states matter-of-factly. “Liz, Ayva, you handle Alex. Joel and I will tangle with Steve.”

“Your move, human,” Joel says to their opponents.

“Fine.” Steve rushes forward, diamond sword swinging to meet with Karion’s claws. Alex finally looses the arrow, which slices through the air, going so fast, it’s just a tan blur. She was aiming at Liz, but the projectile gracefully misses each rod, phasing harmlessly through the Blaze’s smoke column.

“Whoops,” Liz sneers, rolling her eyes. “My turn!” She spews a round of fireballs that Alex ducks and dodges to avoid. Alex doesn’t quite escape one, and it knocks her on her back. She rolls over and stumbles to her feet, slinging arrows wildly. A few find their mark, sticking into Liz’s rods, but Ayva infuriatingly teleports clear of any shot aimed at her.

Meanwhile, Karion strafes left to dodge Steve’s sword and answers the attack with a slashing claw strike of his own. Steve grunts in anger and rubs his scratched arm before striking Karion, making a cut on the Enderman’s arm.

“There. Now we’re even.”

However, Steve is so busy gloating about his skillful slice that he doesn’t notice Joel sneaking up behind him. He turns in time to see the flat of the zombie’s iron sword smack against the side of his face. His field of vision explodes with bright specks of light, and he collapses to the floor, unconscious.

“One down, one to go,” says a satisfied Karion.

“Fight me, you coward!” Alex spits at Joel.

“Nope. I’m not hitting a girl. That’s unchivalrous.”

“Pfft,” Alex scoffs.

“However,” Ayva says, picking up Joel’s statement, “that doesn’t hold true for girls hitting girls.” The Enderwoman punches Alex in the back of the head. Alex falls forward, out cold.

Karion looks at the K.O’ed people, nodding with satisfaction. “Great work, everyone. Now let’s just put these two away--in locked rooms or something, I guess--so we can focus on the important stuff.”

“That was fun! We should do that more often!” Ayva hops up and down in excitement.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Karion says somberly. “There will be plenty more where that came from.”

Outside Abendale.

Chapter 28

“Men, the time has come,” Walter addresses his knights, who throw their tents, bed-rolls, and other baggage into a messy pile. “If we want to eliminate that zombie, we’re going to have to wait for him to come to us. I’ll bet he and the rest of those filthy mobs will be coming over here to fight any day now. So when that happens, we’ll be ready. Right?”

“Yaaaaah!” the knights cheer. “Yah Walter!”

“Good. Except there’s one problem. You guys made a total mess of the tents. Now, none of you are getting lunch until that entire heap is sorted through and those tents are set up.”

The men whine and complain, but grudgingly work to set up a military encampment on the greens of their beloved city. Mats are unrolled, knapsacks are unpacked, and they sit down, still in full armor and holding their halberds, to receive a helping of roasted pork or steak.

“Like working with kids,” Walter complains to a lieutenant, who shrugs and bites into his steak.

While they have their meaty meal, a scrawny unarmed guy wearing a tunic that bears King Ogbar’s royal crest comes running up to the captain of the guard.

“Sir Walter!” the messenger gasps. “Thank goodness you’re only outside the city. I have an important message from Ogbar.”

“What is it?”

“Ahem.” The messenger clears his throat, produces a scroll from his inventory, unfurls it, then reads in his most authoritative voice: “His Royal Majesty King Ogbar of Abendale doth hereby declare war upon the Mobs of Minecraftia, the despicable, deplorable, odious monsters. The two armies shall convene upon the Horse Plains outside of Abendale to do battle. This is to be a singular battle; none will follow it. The winner shall deal as they please with the loser. The enemy dare not refuse.”

“They dare not refuse!” Walter echoes from the announcement. “And our swords will be ready to meet them on the battlefield!”

“But we don’t have swords,” pipes up one of the knights. “We have halberds.”

“Shut up,” Walter tells him, then turns back to the rest of the men. “Time to train.”

“Oh, yes, sir?” the messenger asks.

“Now what?”

“The rest of the army will be joining you now, sir.” The messenger flings an arm at a company of Abendellian soldiers marching down to the plains where Walter and his guys have made camp.

An officer approaches Walter. “We’d like to add on to your tent village here.”

Walter grins. “Go right ahead! I’ll set up some targets so my men can practice their archery.” In a much lower, quieter voice, he mumbles to the officer, “They could definitely use some practice...and discipline...and generally any skills needed to fight a war.”

The officer scoffs. “Oh, they can’t be that bad.”

Walter scowls at a group of his knights who have started up an impromptu soccer match with a ball of wadded-up trash from the rubbish piles.

“Hmm...maybe you’re right,” the officer muses, rubbing his chin, as he watches these grown men play the beautiful game like a group of schoolboys. One knight kicks the ball too hard and it flies toward Walter, smacking him in the gut.

“Oof!” the Captain grunts. He growls in irritation and smooshes the ball under his metal-boot-covered foot. “Stay focused, men! We aren’t fighting a soccer match against the mobs. We’re fighting a WAR! Yes, a W-A-R! Do you fools even know that is?” He shakes the squashed blob of garbage off his boot while the men drone “Aww”’s in response to the abrupt end of their game.

“Let them be,” soothes the officer. “At least my men are prepared. Don’t worry. We’ll crush that pitiful resistance. We’ll crush ‘em as easily as you smashed that ball of garbage.”

Walter stares off into the distance before a satisfied smirk creeps across his mouth. “Yes...Yes, we will.”

Resistance base.

Chapter 29.

“Ugghhh,” Steve groans as he awakens. He is vaguely aware he is sitting in a chair. His vision is out of focus and his head feels like it’s stuffed with wool. “Don’t tell me that Enderman K.O’ed me again!”

“Actually, it was me, not Karion.” Joel hops off of the crafting table he was sitting on. “Remember? I delivered a mean right hook, if I say so myself, to your head with the flat of my sword.”

“YOU!” Steve snarls and tries to leap up from his seat, but he can’t. His wrists and ankles are tied together, and his torso itself is bound to the chair.

“Yeah, sorry about tying you up, but you know. Can’t have you going around trying to kill us all, again.” The zombie chuckles.

“What the--You can’t do this! Untie me immediately, you monster!”

“You know, you should be thanking me. I could have used the business end of my blade on you, but I used the flat. So, no. You and Alex are going to be staying here for a little while.”

Steve glances over his shoulder.

“Hi, Steve.” Across the room, Alex is in the exact same quandary as him. A lady zombie stands next to the chair, probably guarding her, but it’s as if Alex could go anywhere.

Steve, frustrated, blows a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Well, this is a fine pickle we’re in.”

Just then, Karion rushes into the room. “It’s time! A messenger from that wretched King Ogbar has just informed me that Ogbar has declared war on us. He’s going to fight us on the Horse Plains outside Abendale.”

“We can’t do that,” Joel says. “That’s totally unfair. Our army will be exhausted by the time we march there.”

“Hmm-mmm,” Karion murmurs, contemplating this and a solution. Then, he gets an idea. “What if we didn’t have to march there?”

“What are you suggesting, Karion?” the lady zombie asks, a dubious look on her face.

“Gather the rest of the Endermen,” Karion says excitedly, and teleports away, probably to help assemble them.

“You heard him,” Joel tells her. Dragging Steve and Alex, still tied to their chairs, behind them, they run out of the room and into the main atrium. The lady zombie goes off to find as many Endermen as she can. Between her and Karion, they soon have a fine group of the shadowy creatures congregated on the commodious floor. Many other mobs join them, wondering what all the fuss is about. The echoey space is filled with a nonstop drone of a bunch of voices talking all at once, including Steve and Alex still yelling at the mobs to let them go.

"Everyone, get ready!" Karion bawls above the noise. He turns back to the Endermen congregated behind him. "Beans! Ayva! Dominik! Kalvin! Sylas! All of you! Join hands!"

The Endermen look confused but obey, taking each other's hands. Ayva sees the opportunity and grabs hold of Karion's hand, grinning.

"Keep hold." Karion shouts to them. "We're going to teleport the whole mountain!"

The Enderman-teleporting sound rings and reverberates all throughout the entire base, as the air becomes thick with purple dust and sparkles. The mountain shakes, as if in a massive earthquake, as it dislodges from the ground. The tremors cause the light crystals to come loose and fall to the floor, shattering into glitter on impact. The other mobs duck into rooms for shelter or cling to the walls, trying not to be thrown off the catwalks and ledges.

"Hang on!" Karion shrieks, nearly drowned out by the cacophony. "Just a...few...more...seconds!"

The air is so thick with the purple dust that they can hardly breathe. Starting from the first floor and spiraling all the way up the mountain, the base is absorbed in brilliant pink light. With a loud *BOOM*, they teleport. The massive scale of this teleport is too much for the non-Endermen and they pass out.

Some time after Chapter 29.

Horse Plains of Abendale.

Make yourself a cup of tea and get comfy, because it’s a long read.

The level ground of the Horse Plains stretches out to the horizon, set under a spacious sky dappled with fluffy cumulus clouds. A lone Ghast swoops over the flat expanse of green, shrieking his call as he soars over to the scores of mobs gathered in the west. An arrow is stuck in his huge white body.

The Ghast lands daintily next to Joel, who sits atop Copper on a hill overlooking the field. Both he and his horse are in full iron armor that gleams in the sun.

“It’s a huge army,” the Ghast says. “Double our troops, just about. Fine weapons. And quite truculent, if I say so myself. One of their archers shot me when he saw me spying. I only narrowly escaped. Are you sure you really want to go through with this?”

Joel narrows his eyes. “There’s no turning back now. It’ll be no easy ride, but it’s one we have to take.”

Karion suddenly appears next to them. Joel jumps in surprise.

“Gah! Karion, I thought we talked about teleporting right next to me.”

“We’re about to rush into the battle of the century. Now is not the time to be jumpy, Joel. Hmm...a flying wedge. Good choice. See, I told you Theophilus and Nicodemus would come up with a splendid battle strategy.” Karion turns back to look at the teleported mountain disappearing into the fog of the render distance. “I hope we aren’t planning to re-use that mountain after the fight.”

“Why’s that?”

There’s a cacophony of crashing and rumbling as the mountain collapses, crumbling to rocky rubble.

“That’s why. That teleport made the structure a little, ah, unsound.”

“Clearly! Now, is everyone ready for battle?”

“We are. But now we need to wait for the human army to congregate on their side of the field.”

“Speak of the devil,” Joel mutters. Across the almost perfectly-flat field, the first line of human warriors approaches. They are wearing a mix of leather and chain-mail armor and carry iron spears. These are the expendable foot soldiers. Behind them are two lines of knights in light iron plates attached to their leather armor, wielding halberds and swords. That’s the farthest either mob can see at the moment, although there doubtless is a squad of warriors in juggernaut gear far off, hidden by the fog. Though they cannot see it at this present moment, the men have assembled their army into two waves.

“Last chance,” the Ghast offers.

“Last chance to what? Surrender? I don’t think so,” Joel secures the strap on his helmet. With both hands, he slides his sword from its sheath.. The iron blade catches a glint of sunlight as he brings it around in front of him and holds it out over the plain.

A bellowing shofar tone rolls over the field as someone from the human army sounds the signal to charge. The army cheers and starts to surge into the fray.

Joel turns in the saddle and glances back at the mobs of well, mobs gathered in a flying wedge behind him. He has said it himself: no turning back now. He breathes in and out, collecting himself, before raising his sword and swooping it down, the signal for his own army to charge. He clutches the reins as Copper takes off down the hill, causing a chain reaction as the other mobs start running, row by row, out onto the plain.

For a moment, all seems silent as the two armies run at each other. Then, they crash together, and the air is filled with the thunder of clashing metal, stamping feet, and screams. Joel hacks down two knights with one fell swoop of his sword, narrowly missing the points of their halberds. He sees Karion and the other Endermen as just black blips in the air, raining down the fury of the End on their foes. Explosions herald the Creepers’ defense. Arrows and thrown spears fly back and forth overhead, joined by the fire of Ghasts and Blazes smearing across the sky like shooting stars.

Karion finishes off a soldier and shoves the body aside. He teleports right as a knight thrusts a spear at him, its point lunging through the air where his chest has been a second ago. A trio of arrows stick themselves in the ground near his feet.

He jumps back and his back hits a rock pile behind him. The Enderman does a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no-one is sneaking up on him from atop the boulder, then stops to catch his breath. A Zombie Pigman and a skeleton collide with the rock wall as well, both of them beating off attackers. The skeleton shoots his assailant, taking him down with a critical arrow to the shoulder. The Zombie Pigman isn’t as fortunate. The soldier stabs him in the gut and the pigman falls over, dead.

The skeleton jumps forward and somersaults to roll around in front of the knight, and does him in with three arrows in quick succession. “I’ve gotcha, Karion!” he reassures. His voice sounds familiar.

“James?” Karion asks.

“Yeah,” James says, using his bow to parry an oncoming arrow. “But we don’t have time for happy reunions. Stay focused!” James grabs a riderless horse by the reins as it canters past and swings up onto its back.

And Karion stays focused just in time, for a duo of knights tries to corner him. He cuts one of them down right away, but the other manages to slice his sword across Karion’s leg. Keeping one hand on the wounded leg and using the other to claw at the foe, he teleports atop the rock, looks out across the battlefield, and wishes he didn’t.

The mob army is losing--badly. The juggernauts in their diamond and enchanted iron armor have rushed onto the field, and now they are cutting down the lines of zombies, creepers, spiders, and whatnot like grass. The claws, bows, and fire-breath just can’t stand up to the onslaught.

Karion’s heart thumps in his chest and he starts to doubt himself and his people. Has he overestimated the mobs? Has he brought forth a war that can’t be won? Has he led them to their deaths?

“Oh no!” James cries as an arrow buries itself in his horse’s shoulder. The steed screams and bucks, throwing the skeleton out of the saddle. An explosion of pain shoots through his spine as it contacts the hard ground. He smacks his hand on his helmet, struggling to keep it on lest he be burned by the glaring sunlight.

“Joel! There’s too many of them and not enough of us!” he shouts to Joel from beside his downed horse as the zombie rides past. He whips around and shoots an oncoming knight just in time, before it can chop his head off with a sword.

“Reinforcements!” Joel yells as Copper gallops through the frightening mass of warring people and mobs. “We need reinforcements.”

Elizabeth blasts through the air next to him in a rush of heat and sparks. She batters a trio of foot soldiers with her red-hot rods. Burned by the searing metal, they cravenly drop their spears and scurry off, howling like mad dogs.

“Liz!” he bawls to her. “We need reinforcements. If we get to the city, we can break the other guys out of the jail! Come on!”

The she-Blaze doesn’t need to be told twice. Following after Copper, she zooms off towards Abendale.

“What the...Where are they going?” Walter remarks as he sees a fully armored zombie on a horse--yikes--charge past too quickly for him to react, followed by a smear of yellow shooting after it (probably a Blaze.). He is horrified to realize that they are headed straight for Abendale.

“Crud!” he yells. “I need six men to come with me! We have to stop those mobs before they break any more out of the jail!” He steals a horse from a skeleton who just got shot out of the saddle and hops on the steed, smacking it on the flank to make it go. The horse whinnies in surprise and takes off toward the city, giving the knights hardly enough time to process their captain’s order.

“Those blasted mobs are inside the city!” Walter hollers at a lieutenant as he careens into the city. He jumps off his horse. “Stop them! Do something!”

“Like what?” The soldier throws his hands up in the air.

“Uh...Uhm…” Walter looks around wildly. He sees a torch mounted on the wall of a nearby house. It gives him an idea.

“What are you doing?” the lieutenant asks as Walter rips the torch off the wall. The captain shoves the torch into the soldier's hand and points at the wooden building.

“Burn it.”

“Wh-What?” the lieutenant stammers. “Are you mad? We can’t burn down our own city!”

“We’re going to smoke out those mobs. They can’t get out of a city aflame, and their friends can’t get in to help them. Now obey me and BURN IT!”

“No.” The lieutenant moves the torch away from Walter. “I’m not letting you destroy innocent lives.”

“You insubordinate, insolent--” Walter lunges at the lieutenant and yanks the torch out of his grasp. He holds it high above his head, out of the soldier’s reach. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“NO!” the lieutenant cries, but it’s too late. Walter tosses the torch onto the roof of the house. Flame immediately spreads across the wooden boards, engulfing the whole roof. Sparks jump from the fire and land on another wooden roof, spreading the blaze. The screams of terrified Townsies are imminent.

Walter shoves the lieutenant to the ground and runs off to go capture the recon squad.

“HALT!” a knight hollers at Joel and Elizabeth. Someone throws a spear at the mobs that just misses Liz’s head. Startled, Joel falls off of Copper and scrambles back to his feet, narrowly avoiding another thrown spear. He starts running, with Liz following close behind. The zombie and the Blaze glance at each other, pass the unspoken plan, and promptly split up, with Joel going left and Liz right. The knights are confused and stop momentarily, offering the mobs a head start.

Joel slips into an alley to catch his breath, keeping a keen ear out for incoming knights. He relaxes slightly when he hears none. As he stands up, a small piece of smoldering debris falls on his shoulder and crumbles to ash. He looks up and gasps to see that the roof of the building next to him is igniting. Joel dashes out onto the street, gawking in horror at the houses going up in flames.

“Fire!” he shouts, despite himself. Panicked Townsies flee the burning buildings. Yet, he can see through the windows of untouched houses that there are still plenty of people inside their homes and oblivious to the inferno.

The zombie looks around desperately for a way to warn everyone. Shouting isn’t going to cut it. Then, the bell tower of the town hall catches his eye. Without a second thought, he charges towards it. Halfway there, he is re-joined by Liz.

“¡Un fuego!” the she-Blaze cries.

“I know!” Joel responds, pointing fervently to the bell tower. “Quick, we need to warn everyone. We gotta get to Town Hall!” Racing through the streets fast enough to tear the cobblestones out of the ground, the mobs reach the town hall and pull the doors open. They rush inside the empty building,

“Up in the bell tower. Hurry!” Joel motions for Liz to fly up the stairs while he locks the doors. The knights saw them going towards the hall and will undoubtedly be here any minute. Once the doors are securely locked, the zombie sprints up the stairs, riskily skipping steps in his haste.

They have no time to admire the massive bronze bell hanging from the bell tower. Joel reaches the balcony and his heart nearly stops when he catches sight of a blazing Abendale. Brilliant orange flames creep across the darkening cityscape, consuming building after building and filling the air with acrid smoke.

Joel’s heart pounds in his chest like a timpani. He sucks in a strangled gasp and turns his back on the inferno. A thick rope dangles down from the bell. The zombie grasps it with both hands and jumps off the balcony to the small atrium below. When the rope hits tautness, the bell swings from side to side, pealing out the warning to all in the city. After sounding the bell, Joel swings back up onto the balcony--and without a moment to lose.

“Knights!” Liz jabs a rod at the plaza below. A group of fifteen or so armored men rush at the locked doors, carrying a large log. They repeatedly slam it into the doors as a battering ram.

“Uh...Ah…” Joel looks around wildly, not knowing what to do. Then he spots a cauldron and a chest full of iron ingots for repairing cracks in the bells. “Liz, get a fire going under that cauldron!” He hooks a chain to the cauldron, swings it over a bronze hook on the wall, and lifts the pot off the ground. He kicks a piece of wood under it, a signal for Liz to do the same.

Not seeing where her zombie friend is going with this, but helping anyway, the Blaze drops to the ground, throws some wood scraps under the cauldron, and breathes a jet of flame over them. Joel tosses the iron ingots in it, where they quickly melt into a glowing orange ooze.

“All right. Stand clear.” Joel cuts one of the pulley ropes, causing the cauldron to tip over. The molten iron spills out and over the balcony onto the knights below.

“Aiee!” the men scream, and run clear of the hot rain.

“Ha! We beat ‘em!” Joel pumps a victorious fist in the air.

“Uh...Joel? JOEL!” Elizabeth screams. Fire has leapt onto the town hall and is creeping up to the bell tower. With no other way to escape, she grabs Joel by the arms, scooping her rods under them, and carries him down to the ground outside just as the flames overtake the bell tower.

The streets are now a frenzied mass of people running like a flock of terrified chickens, trying to escape the fire. Ogbar watches the panic intently from the safety of his stone castle. He is unfazed by the sight of his loyal citizens in danger of being consumed by the flames.

“That ought to stop those foul mobs from collecting any reinforcements,” the king says proudly to his armor-bearer, who looks on in horror.

“Sir, I’m not sure--” the man starts to say.

Ogbar cuts him off with a command. “But just to be sure, let us get rid of the prisoners once and for all. Prepare the cage-carts. And bring me a squad of axemen. Ensure they make clean chops. I want the heads to look presentable for my trophy room.”

The armor-bearer pales, but leaves to fulfill his superior’s command. The mobs in the dungeon are herded into iron cage-carts that are wheeled out onto the plaza in front of the castle, while Ogbar watches from the giant throne room window. The axemen in their grim black hoods follow after, dragging their huge double-headed axes behind them. A group of people are so curious as to what’s going on that they forget about the fire and move to the stone (and therefore sheltered from flame) plaza to check it out.

The most experienced axeman tells the people, “We shall now permanently dispose of these vile monsters. Observe.”

Ah, but people aren’t the only ones observing. Unable to be heard over the noise of the crowd, a certain Enderman teleports into the plaza. He tenses up, knowing what wicked scheme the humans have planned here, but waits for the right moment.

Another axeman slips a looped chain around the neck of a frightened Creeper and drags it out of the cage to a big stone slab (that is slated to have a statue of Ogbar built upon it, but today it is intended to serve a different purpose.) He shoves the Creeper’s head down to rest against the stone and holds it there. The furry green creature’s large, dark eyes are now even bigger with fear.

“We will start with what we full well know is the most hated of the monsters.” The top axeman grins sadistically.

Karion’s eyes narrow. I don’t think so.

The axeman lifts his axe high over his head. Suddenly, there’s a loud *FWOOP* and someone kicks him in the stomach.

“OOF!” the axeman grunts, and loses his grip on his weapon. It clatters harmlessly to the ground behind him. Before he can react any further. he is knocked out cold by a hard punch to his head.

The other axemen shout angrily at the Enderman and ready their axes to swing at him. Karion deftly dodges each swiping blade and does in each wielder by clocking them in the back of the head. Within minutes, unconscious men litter the ground around him.

The citizens look on in wonder. One Enderman defeated a whole squad of human warriors! Karion scoops up one of the axes and teleports to the top of a cage-cart.

“Good people of Abendale!” Karion yells in a loud, clear voice. “Hear me, please. You see your dear city on fire, your friends and family overtaken by fire. It is King Ogbar’s doing! He has persecuted us mobs, destroyed your own city, and now he has declared war on your beloved, historic Town Hall itself!” He points the axe at the flaming Town Hall in the distance. Even from there, they can see the beautiful bronze bell warping and melting from the heat. A few emotional people start to cry, while others howl in anger.

Karion re-addresses the crowd. “So I ask you--will you stand for it?”

“NO!” every last person in the multitude screams. Karion leaps off the cart and runs clear as the people rush onto the plaza, armed with common tools like pickaxes and shovels. They slam their tools against the locks on the cage-carts, dashing them to pieces. The doors fall open and the liberated mobs scamper out. All this is witnessed by Ogbar’s armor-bearer.

“Sir, I think you should see this,” he says to Ogbar, who is removing a painting above the fireplace to make room for one of many trophy heads.

“Do not waste my time, peasant,” the distracted king dismisses.

“No, really. Things aren’t exactly going to plan down there,”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Irritated, Ogbar tosses aside the painting and glares down at the plaza. His jaw unhinges when he sees the rioting townspeople fighting the axemen as they come to.

“Get a squad of knights down there NOW!” he screams at the armor-bearer, who scurries off to avoid the wrath of an angry King Ogbar. The king smirks as a team of ten knights rush onto the plaza, jabbing their halberds at the people. The knights only enrage the serfs more, who swat the weapons out of their hands with their tools. A full-scale mutiny erupts across Abendale, starting in this plaza, as Karion teleports away. One particular man, an ordinary baker named Philip, catches sight of the pompous king watching the skirmish from his window. He scowls in fury and races toward the castle, grabbing a forgotten pickaxe off the ground.

“You’ve done this!” Philip the baker accuses Ogbar as he clomps up the stairs into the throne room. “This is your fault!”

“Oh, please. A few burned buildings are a small price to pay for ridding the world of the mob menace,” Ogbar dismisses.

“A few burned buildings?” Philip practically screams at the king, pointing his pickaxe at him. “A few? More like the entire city and hundreds of innocent lives destroyed!”

Ogbar scowls and turns on Philip, putting his back to the window. “How dare you talk to your king like that, you dirty peasant!”

Philip rushes at Ogbar, making a swing with his pickaxe. The king whips out his ceremonial gold sword--the only weapon he carries with him--and parries the attack. He forces the peasant back.

Yet, each blow pushes them closer to the window. The two men battle, pickaxe versus sword, until Philip gets his tool hooked on the king’s sword. They glare venomously at each other.

“You cannot beat me!” Ogbar snarls. “I promised my people that I would never be felled by a mob!”

In a low, level voice, Philip says, “I’m not a mob.”

Philip kicks Ogbar as hard as he can in the gut, breaking apart the tangled weapons. Ogbar crashes into the window, which shatters, and he falls thirty blocks to the hard stone plaza below. His body lies sprawled on the paving stones, a shocked expression frozen on his face.

Karion teleports on the stone roof of a well to catch his breath. The buildings around him are skeletons of blackened wood, still sending ribbons of gray smoke into the red sky. White ash flutters like a snowfall around him. He can only pray the Townsies have gotten to safety.

Just then, a zombie wearing battered iron armor and a she-Blaze run up to him, panting. Joel and Liz.

“We...rang the...bell…” Joel gasps. “Warned...the people... All we could...do.”

“Karion...the palace…” Liz says.

“What about it? It’s made of stone,” the Enderman says.

“Not the interior. The big window was broken. Now the flame can reach inside.”

“Oh, no.” Karion’s eyes widen. “The castle staff...They’ll be trapped inside.”

“Exactly. We gotta get over there. ¡Apurate!”

They waste no time. The three mobs throw themselves on a path straight towards the castle. Sure enough, fire from an adjacent burning building is creeping inside the castle from the broken window. The sight of the other windows melting, with flame bursting from them, is enough to give them momentary pause. A conflagration blossoms atop one of the wooden-roofed towers.

“Don’t stop,” Karion says, shaking his head to pull himself together. “We have to save those people.”

They reach the castle in a few minutes. The fireproof Liz bashes down the doors, allowing Karion inside. Joel heads into a branching-off hallway to cover more ground. The woodwork of the lobby, set above an oaken balcony, is catching fire, occasionally releasing a chunk of burning wood to fall to the floor and ignite the carpet. Liz floats over her friend as he runs through the lobby, smacking away the rubble before it can hurt him. Glancing upwards to watch for falling rubbish, she gasps.

“Karion!” Elizabeth yells. “LOOK OUT!”

Karion looks up just in time to see the burning balcony break free of the ceiling. With a hot hiss like that of a hellish demon, it collapses into a heap of sizzling wood in mid-air, about to be dashed out on the tiled floor.

The Enderman’s feet skid on the floor as he frantically scrambles out of its warpath. The flaming balcony crashes to the ground with a mighty roar of fire. A wave of heat radiates out from the dying structure, blasting Karion from behind. Caught off guard by the attack, Karion stumbles, trips over his own feet, and plunges.

Karion’s head bounces against the floor, punctuating his vision with specks of white light. The world seems to lose it moorings, whirling and tumbling on its axis like a compass’s needle in the Nether. Lying on his back, his muscles lose their will to move. His mind slows to a crawl.

Despite the debilitating dizziness that has come over him, Karion lifts his head to survey his surroundings. The world stops spinning to allow him a look at the scene unfolding before him…

The staff of the castle stampede around the ruined building, howling in blind panic. Karion feels each footfall as a tremor on the earth that makes no noise.

The hallway wall falls to pieces. Joel ducks and runs for cover as chunks of plaster and rock dislodge and fall from the ceiling, hitting the earth below like meteors. A series of debris rains down in a cloud of dust, and when it settles, he is nowhere to be seen.

Liz doesn’t get away in time from a large chunk of plaster as it plummets from the ceiling. It crushes down on top of her. Her rods grind to a halt and abruptly drop to the floor.

Karion has seen enough. Setting his head back on the ground, he does not move, listening to the softened cries of man and mob alike. He listens while the world as he knows it disintegrates into oblivion.

Karion closed his eyes and everything went dark and silent.