Herobrine's Message (36 page)

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of constant digging, Stan checked the map and saw that he was a good
distance outside the outer walls of the Noctem Capitol. He aimed his pickaxe upward, and before long, he broke the frozen topsoil and stumbled into the darkness of the eternal blizzard. Determined to finish the job properly, Stan laid the redstone dust up the hole he had just climbed, and when he got to the top, he placed the lever in his inventory on the ground, careful to ensure that it was connected to the rest of the trail of redstone.

Stan was relieved that his mission had been a success. Nocturia was now one lever pull away from becoming a massive crater in the middle of the tundra. All he had to do was wait for Ben and Jayden to emerge carrying Oob, and then activate the redstone circuit. Stan's mind was racing, and his heart was pounding with excitement as he used the pickaxe to carve a trench in the snowy ground (they had to take shelter from the blast behind something). As he worked, Stan imagined how large the explosion would be. If what Ben had said was true, and all the outer walls were laced with TNT, then Stan couldn't comprehend the size of the blast. More than likely, it would be larger than Creeper Khan's dying attack.

Suddenly, Stan stopped as this thought struck him. The memories of being on the roof of the Town Hall came flooding back to him, as he once again stood before Creeper Khan, sure that the entire Adorian Village was about to be
destroyed. The feeling of dread that had washed over him was unlike anything he had felt before, to think that all of his people were about to be wiped out . . . even those who hadn't wanted to fight to begin with. . . .

Stan knew that not everybody in the Noctem Alliance was a terrible person. Obviously, they were all terribly misguided in their beliefs, but not all of them were purely evil minds like King Kev or Caesar. In fact, Stan had trouble believing, based on what he had heard about them, that Tess and Spyro were terrible people by nature. They were just doing what they thought was right, like almost every other player who had followed the path of the Noctem Alliance. Stan realized that there was a possibility, however slim, that any member of the Noctem Alliance might one day repent, and see the error of their ways.

If Stan pulled the lever, then none of the one hundred players in the Nocturia complex would ever get that chance.

As Stan sat in the snow, frozen in conflict, his mind torn two ways, he became aware that he was being watched. Stan whipped his head up, his newly enchanted diamond axe flying into his hand as his eyes fell on a figure standing slightly below him on the hill. The player was standing perfectly still, his cloak billowing in the raging gale. As Stan squinted to make him out more clearly, he realized that the figure was wearing dark pants and shoes, with a black cape and hood
that obscured his eyes, revealing only a pale mouth locked into a frown.

Stan's heart skipped a beat. Since he had met up with his friends, they had all told him stories . . . tales of a mysterious player who had appeared to each of them and saved their lives. In fact, Stan had heard that it was because of this mystery player that his friends had accepted Leonidas into their group. While he had largely ignored his friends' stories, being too occupied with the war effort to give them much thought, he remembered them saying that the player never spoke . . . and yet, somehow, they all knew his name.

As Stan looked at this player, he knew the name, too.

The Black Hood stared at Stan, still not moving, still not smiling. Stan miraculously felt no surprise that this mystery player existed. Rather, he only felt a sense of desperation, like a pupil begging a teacher for help. Somehow, he knew that the Black Hood held the answer to his dilemma, although he had no idea how.

“I can't kill them,” Stan said aloud, the anxiety evident in his voice as he spoke to this spectral player. “We aren't on a battlefield. Those players are probably lying safe and happy in their beds. They think that the war is nearly over, and that soon they'll get to go home to their families. How am I supposed to take them all out?”

The Black Hood didn't answer. He simply continued to
stare at Stan, not a muscle of his body making even the slightest motion as he stood, stoic, his billowing cape forming a magnificent silhouette against the light of the building that Stan was supposed to destroy. Stan stared back, desperately hoping that, if he stared hard enough, the answer would reveal itself.

“You've always had the answer for all my friends!” Stan cried out over the blizzard, as a tear formed in the corner of his eyes. “You've always done everything you can for them! Is there anything you can do for me?”

Still, there was no response. Instead, a particularly strong gust of wind kicked a spray of snow in front of the Black Hood, obscuring him from view. By the time the snow had blown away, the Black Hood had vanished.

And yet, Stan didn't have time to acknowledge the disappearance of the mysterious player. Rather, his focus shifted to the blast of sound that was echoing up the slopes of the hills. Stan scrambled to the edge of the hill to where the Black Hood had been standing and looked down. There, racing across the tundra toward him, were two players, one of whom appeared to have a third form slung over his back. And far behind them, a giant mass of forms seemed to be swarming around the Nocturia complex like ants, turning into waves that surged toward the exit gate.

“We've got him!” Jayden's voice came out, as his face
came into view next to the form of Ben, who had an unconscious, shaking Oob over his shoulder. “Pull the lever, Stan!”

Stan glanced down at the lever, then out at the massive outpouring of troops that had reached the gates of the outer wall. He wondered how many of those players were only fighting because they felt they couldn't live in Element City under him . . . just like his soldiers back in the Adorian Village were doing now.

“What are you waiting for?” Jayden bellowed. “They'll be out of range soon. Activate the bomb!”

Stan gave his head a blunt shake. He had to do it—he knew that he had to. Without thinking, Stan reached down to the lever, but the second he grabbed it, he halted in his tracks. It was so simple. All he had to do was push the lever forward, and it would all be over. But still, he would never be able to cleanse his hands of those hundred lives.

“Do it! NOW!”
Ben bellowed.

Stan acted on instinct. He thrust the lever downward, activating the mechanism with a distinctive click. Instantly, a surge of electric power rushed down the line of redstone dust, pausing for a split second as it hit the first redstone repeater before the revitalized charge continued down the line. For a moment, Stan couldn't hear anything as he rushed back into the trench he had just dug, alongside Jayden, Ben, and the unconscious Oob.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The explosion was so loud, so powerful, and so forceful that Stan felt himself slammed backward against the back of the trench, unable to move. He squinted his eyes open against the blinding light to see a giant fireball rupturing the walls of the Capitol Building of Nocturia, reducing the entire building into rubble in a split second. The wave of fire continued from the building, spreading at the speed of sound across the countless shacks, and eventually sending the outer wall flying into the air in a million pieces. The soldiers on the ground turned around in a frenzy to see what had happened, only to be consumed by the blast. Stan forced himself to duck low into the trench to avoid being struck by the massive force. He felt it billow over his head like a train, still supremely powerful even after traveling so far.

The blasts didn't cease there. A series of smaller, yet still massive explosions continued to erupt within the giant fireball, sending loose blocks and items flying through the air like a volcano spewing out magma and stones. Single lit blocks of TNT went sailing through the air, glowing white like shooting stars through the still-raging blizzard. Some burst in midair like fireworks, while others struck the ground in blasts, peppering the snowy ground around what had once been the Nocturia complex with miniature craters the size of Creeper holes. Stan ducked his head down into the trench
again for fear of being struck by a stray explosion.

For a long time, Stan didn't move. He couldn't move; his brain wouldn't let him. It wasn't until long after the last remnants of explosions had died that Stan finally dared to peek his head over the top of the bank and look over the field before him.

The Nocturia complex, which had once stood as one of the most ornate, intricate, and well-crafted cities in all of Elementia, now ceased to exist. The crater from the supernova was so large that Stan couldn't make out the bottom. Thousands of blocks wide, the hole stretched down so deep that it simply appeared to be black. Not a single structure remained even partially intact, and there was no sign of life whatsoever.

Stan continued to stare, feeling a hole in his chest that felt as large as the hole that was now the gravesite of hundreds of players before him, all because he had pulled the lever. Then Stan's mind refused to take any more, and he passed out before he hit the snow.

A
s he stood on the bridge of Element Castle and looked down over the city, General Drake tried to remember an older time, when Element City had been a much more colorful place. After all, he had lived here once, long ago, before he had chosen to leave and join the Noctem Alliance, being fed up with his then-stagnant, dead-end life. The city looked much different now, though—darker, and more foreboding. The eternal gray cloud still hung over the towering buildings of the city, dimming the sunlight as the two Withers patrolled the skies, under the telepathic grip of the one who, at this very moment, was torturing Drake's comrade for his failure.

From such a height, Drake could see every street of Element City, all lined with troops. There were over four hundred Noctem soldiers in all, armed to the teeth with potions and enchanted weapons, prepared for the imminent attack on the city. Stan2012 had taken control of the Adorian Village, and since the admittedly unexpected destruction of Nocturia two days ago, there was only one place for Stan's army to go now.

Drake heard uneven footsteps behind him, and he turned around to see General Spyro limping toward him. His entire body was covered in burns from fire and potions, and from the agonized expression on his
face, he was just barely managing to stay upright.

“I'm glad to see that he went easy on you,” Drake said coolly.

“Trust me . . . so am I,” grunted Spyro as he reached Drake, extracted a wood-plank block from his inventory, placed it on the ground, and wasted no time in sitting down, a sigh heaving from his mouth. “I know that I deserve . . . much, much worse than what I got. I suppose I'm lucky that Lord Tenebris is so . . . merciful . . .”

“Yes, you are. . . . We both are,” replied Drake wistfully, remembering the agony that Lord Tenebris had put him through for his failures. “It will all be over soon, though. As soon as we can destroy President Stan's army, life will be easy—and we'll be heroes.”

“Yeah, I know. . . .
Augh!
” The shout escaped Spyro's mouth as he moved slightly, causing the pain in a particularly burned part of his arm to flare up. Drake handed a Potion of Healing from his own inventory to Spyro, which he graciously drank.

“Thanks,” Spyro said softly as he sighed in relief.

“Don't mention it.”

“So, is there any news on the war front?” Spyro asked, his voice slightly stronger now.

Drake took a deep breath and let it out.
So he doesn't know,
he thought. “Actually, there is a rather big development,
Spyro . . . not a good one. Apparently, President Stan knew about the TNT hidden in the walls of Nocturia, and he activated it. The entire city is gone, and they took out over a hundred of our guys . . . including Tess.”

There was a moment of silence as Spyro stood there, looking at the ground, trying to absorb what Drake had just said. Finally, he looked up, disbelief in his face.

“You're saying . . . that . . . Tess is dead?”

“Yes.”

“And . . . they took out a hundred of our soldiers?”

“Yes, Spyro. President Stan destroyed just over a hundred players in the blink of an eye. That's almost twice as many as we took out in our biggest attack. And from what I heard, it wasn't just any random soldier that did it . . . it was President Stan himself.”

“You're kidding.”

“No, I'm not,” Drake spat in disgust. “I can't believe that he would do something like that. I mean, it wasn't like when we attacked the Spleef Arena, where we had a solid reason to do it. A lot of the players in Nocturia were trainees, not even ready to go into combat. And a lot more weren't even there for combat at all. They were there for construction and mining and such. Even Tess was just there to oversee training. It's not like she was ordering out military operations from Nocturia or anything. But now, it doesn't even matter. They're all gone.”

Spyro didn't respond; he didn't have anything to say. Neither did Drake, for that matter. The two remaining generals of the Noctem Alliance stood silently on the bridge, overlooking their troops and reflecting on just how senseless the loss of all those players, including General Tess, truly was.

“I don't believe you,” Kat said incredulously, staring at Commander Crunch, eyes wide. “Don't you dare lie to me about something like that!”

“I assure ye, lass, I ain't lyin',” Commander Crunch replied with a proud, toothy grin. “Th' trainin' program really has been goin' that well. All hundred o' th' new players I've been trainin' 'ave been advancin' remarkable smartly, 'n' they'll be able t' march into Element City in battle alongside th' rest o' us when the time comes.”

“So . . . ,” Cassandrix said, the gears whirring in her head. “If I'm counting correctly . . . then that means that . . .”

“Right ye be, poppet . . . now we 'ave jus' as many fighters as th' Noctems do: four hundred apiece.”

“Excellent!” Kat exclaimed, so loudly that Rex looked up at her in concern, and several people nearby glanced at her, but she didn't care. She had been worried sick ever since Ben had told her that they may potentially be going into a fight of three hundred versus five hundred, but now it seemed like
they would be much more evenly matched.

“So we're up a hundred fighters . . . ,” Cassandrix murmured to herself before looking up at Kat. “And you're certain that Nocturia has been destroyed, correct?”

“Hey, the spies haven't led us wrong yet,” replied Kat. “They say they heard the Noctem generals say that Nocturia had been destroyed. If that's the case, then I'd expect Stan, Ben, and Jayden to be back any minute now.”

“Aye aye-o, ma'am,” Commander Crunch replied with a hearty laugh. “Now, I be gonna brin' me newly graduated students t' th' storehouses 'n' get them suited up fer battle. Could ye two do me a favor 'n' tell Bob th' good news?”

Kat and Cassandrix nodded and immediately began to make their way toward the hotel, Rex on their heels, as Commander Crunch headed toward the Town Hall.

“I'm totally speechless,” Cassandrix breathed. “A hundred players, turned into military-grade fighters in just a manner of days . . . I'd never have believed it . . .”

“Well, if anybody can do it, Commander Crunch can. I mean, he may be totally insane, but he knows what he's doing. Not to mention that those players really believe in our cause,” Kat answered wisely as they passed the guarded hotel rooms where the Noctem prisoners were being stored. “And they know how desperate the situation is.”

“I suppose you're right,” Cassandrix sighed. “I suppose
that given the circumstances, just about anybody can rise to the occasion . . . even if they're lower-level players.”

Kat stopped in her tracks and whipped around to face Cassandrix, a look of sheer disbelief on her face. There was a moment where neither of them moved before Cassandrix spoke again.

“Relax, darling . . . I was only joking . . .”

Cassandrix continued walking, but Kat still didn't move. Instead, a look of understanding crossed her face as she looked at the player standing beside her. Cassandrix turned around and looked at Kat expectantly, waiting for her to say something.

“Cassandrix,” Kat finally said, “have I ever thanked you for everything you've done for us?”

“Well, I hardly see occasion for that, dear. After all, I've done just as much or, to be totally frank, slightly less than you and the other leaders.”

“I know that,” Kat replied, “but it's just . . . what you said to me, back when we were in prison together on the Mushroom Islands . . . it was really eye opening.”

“Oh come on, darling, you're not still on about that, are you? Look, I already told you—”

“What I'm trying to say is that what you said struck me as something somebody in the Noctem Alliance would say.”

Suddenly, it was as if the air around them had dropped
twenty degrees. Cassandrix glared back at Kat, making it very obvious that she had entered dangerous waters.

“Yes,” Cassandrix said coldly. “You said that as I was talking.”

“But . . . you're not a member of the Noctem Alliance. It would have been so easy for you to leave and join them but . . . you didn't. You stayed here with us, and you've risked everything for the sake of the lower-level players.”

Cassandrix said nothing. Instead, she opened her mouth, only to close it again, and then looked down at the ground. She then repeated the same motion again, clearly searching for the correct response. Then, she finally talked, and Kat was taken aback by how sincere she sounded.

“Well . . . to be totally frank with you, Kat, I initially refused to join the Noctem Alliance because I didn't approve of their methods, even if I agreed with their ideals. And I only joined the army because I was one of the only high-level players left in the city, and I hadn't been drafted yet because of my role in the Spleef tournament.”

“Oh,” Kat replied, sounding crestfallen. “Well, in that case—”

“That being said,”
Cassandrix cut in, causing Kat to look back up at her. “That may have been the reason that I joined the army in the first place, but it's not the reason that I'm fighting now. Spending all this time fighting the Noctem
Alliance, seeing all the trouble that our people of all levels have gone through to take them down, and . . . well, even talking to you . . . It's opened my eyes to quite a few things. I suppose what I'm trying to say is . . . I would fight alongside you in this army if I were to do everything over again.”

Cassandrix gave a warm smile, which Kat returned. She found it hard to believe that the big-lipped, pale-faced player standing across from her was the same person who she had hated the most out of everyone in Element City just weeks ago. Kat realized that Cassandrix hadn't said that she agreed with Kat's views on how lower-level players ought to be treated, and to be honest, Kat doubted that she would ever truly feel that way. However, Kat knew in her gut that, from now on, Cassandrix would look at things in more than one light . . . as would she.

The two girls broke eye contact simultaneously, and walked the short distance to the hotel room where Bob was holed up. Kat told Rex to sit, and pushed the wooden door open. She had to do a double take to ensure that she was seeing correctly.

Bob was sitting on Ivanhoe in the middle of the room, as they had expected, but they were not alone. In front of them, sitting on another saddled pig and looking incredibly frustrated, was Charlie. He was holding a fishing rod, on the end of which was a carrot, which his pig was looking at with
marked longing. Both players looked up as Kat and Cassandrix entered the room.

“Um . . . are we interrupting something?” Kat asked awkwardly.

“No, of course not!” exclaimed Bob with a grin. Unlike Charlie, he looked quite enthusiastic about whatever it was that was going on. “I've been teaching Charlie how to ride a pig, and I think that we've got this one fully trained. Go on Charlie, demonstrate.”

Charlie looked miserable; he took a deep breath, let it out, and then grunted, “Forward, Dr. Pigglesworth.”

The pig gave a complacent grunt and began to trot forward. With the humiliated-sounding commands of “Stop, Dr. Pigglesworth” and “Turn, Dr. Pigglesworth” and “Backward, Dr. Pigglesworth,” Charlie maneuvered his pig all around the room.

“Um,” Kat said slowly, not sure what to say as Charlie and the pig stopped in front of them. “That was . . . very impressive, Charlie.”

“Wasn't it?” beamed Bob. He was clearly very proud of all that Charlie had accomplished.

“Honestly,” Charlie grunted, looking as though he felt degraded, “it's bad enough that I'm forced to ride this stupid thing, but why did you have to give it a nickname like that?”

“Hey, it's not my decision!” Bob replied defensively. “All
the war pigs are given their names when they're born. And for the record, Dr. Pigglesworth has always been one of my favorites.”

“Well, great then!” spat Charlie in disgust. “If that's the case, then why don't we trade? If you're forcing me to act like I'm as crippled as you are, the least you can do is give me a pig that has a cool name like Ivanhoe!”

Bob's jaw dropped and he stared at Charlie, clearly stung deeply by this. Charlie continued to glare back in anger for a moment, before his infuriated look cracked and then broke altogether, revealing embarrassment and shame. Kat and Cassandrix looked on, not wanting to be there, but not positive how to walk away. After a full minute of tense silence, Cassandrix cleared her throat and spoke.

“Eh, hem. Well, Bob, em . . . we thought that it would be pertinent for you to know that Commander Crunch has trained all his lower-level players much faster than we had anticipated. They should all be prepared to fight when we invade Element City, which means that we'll have four hundred fighters in total, the same number of troops as the Noctem Alliance has.”

Bob didn't look at them. He gave an absentminded “Thank you for telling me” without moving his gaze away from Charlie. Their job done, Kat and Cassandrix scurried out of the room, slamming the door behind them. Charlie
heard Cassandrix let out a muffled “Well that was fun,” from behind the closed door in a higher-than-normal voice, and finally, he spoke.

“I'm sorry,” Charlie said, his head drooping in shame as Dr. Pigglesworth started curiously sniffing the ground, apparently oblivious to the emotions of the one riding him. “That wasn't fair.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” Bob replied, stroking Ivanhoe absentmindedly between the ears, which caused the pig's nose to crinkle in pleasure. “You've got to realize, Charlie . . . I know what you're going through.”

“Don't say that,” Charlie grunted, a note of anger returning to his voice. “You have no idea what I'm going through.”