Chapter 74: Audience

Perspective: Astro


I warm my hands over the fire. We are in the Old Vanilla Craft, in the Kingdom of Gaia's holdings. Specifically, we are in an interrogation room of the Palace which was once called the Court of Righteous Protest. Kay and I sit near the fire. Fire looms in the corner, head bowed slightly for a ceiling that is too low for him.

In here, there is only the hearth, a few small stools, and a large mural barely disguising a two-way mirror. I say "barely disguising", Fire noticed it immediately and I remembered some blueprints I read an age ago for an interrogation room just like this.

None of us speak. Fire is busy calculating his pitch. Kay is busy having a silent fit of panic and shame. And I can't stop trying to keep track of who's still here that I might be able to leverage if Cossack proves unhelpful. Arcation, maybe. Ozzy would throw what weight he has left behind this. Legion? No, Palmer is gone and Ruary never liked me.

Aaron is off somewhere, explaining things to Cossack, I presume. Secret's probably hit the bar with Small by now. Maybe they invited that lesser Persson from the Blue Alliance… no, he was gone too.

I sigh.

The second we arrived on Gaian soil, we were surrounded by members of the Order of Gaia, in their green berets and bronze plating. We warned Kay not to draw attention to himself - after he appointed a double agent as their leader and arguably got his successor killed, many in the Order would have gladly tried to enact a violent retribution. Actually, since seeing Aaron and Secret he had hardly said anything, and even then, only in a hoarse whisper.

Thankfully, the head of the patrol recognised Aaron and Secret as two of the most recent Commanders of Gaia's military and immediately passed on word to their boss. As it turns out, our buddy Small is the new head of the Order.

We had told Kay to be inconspicuous and keep his hood up in front of the Order and for once he actually listened. And he kept that up once we were in the courtyard, even as Small came out and leapt up to hug Secret, then made his way around the group in a flurry of more restrained handshakes and respectful nods.

"I thought you said firearms were irrelevant in your world?" Fire had whispered, with a gesture to the wind-up rifles of several palace guards.

"Kay's a little behind on that," I said. "There have been some breakthroughs recently, so they're making a comeback."

And then Small had finally made it to us, recognised Kay's hood and didn't even bother questioning Fire. He'd been polite about it, and shook all our hands, but it clearly made him uneasy. He had taken in a deep breath, and apologised:

"I'd best talk to Cossack about this. I'm sorry Astro, but the boys will have to take you three to an interrogation room until then."

And so, here we are, waiting for Coss. I'm not looking forward to it. Of all the people still alive out of our little group, I had been good friends with pretty much all of them. I'd known Aaron since childhood. Secret had known Aaron originally, then became one of Kay's mercenary buddies but he'd always trusted my judgement. Small trusted Secret's judgement. And I just got on pretty mundanely with Brit, Gracey, Bokane and Mini. I'd even gotten on pretty well with Linx before he turned out to be a sleeper agent for the Family. Cossack was a different story.

He was a navy man who then became a "banker", and by "banker" I mean "loan shark", and he knew Kay and Secret because they collected loans for him from time to time. Then, Kay had gotten spooked, tried to get away from that lifestyle and Cossack had ridden his coattails ever since. As far as I was concerned, he was callous, oblivious and a dead weight on the group's moral character. Also, while my experience in Nexus had made me aware of several noteworthy defects in Kay's character, Cossack had still been the head of Kay's "Circle", and I still held him accountable for enabling many of the worst crimes he committed in the last days of his life.

The door opens. Brit steps in. He holds the handle with a handkerchief, and his stern face is still dominated by a handlebar moustache. I smile.

"Alright Astro," he says flatly but not indifferently. He looks up. "Endling, you come with us. You stay here, Kay."

Kay pulls down his hood, looking more than a little indignant and flustered at Brit's lack of surprise. I would actually agree with him on this one if it were any of our other friends, but it's Brit. Nothing ever fazes him. I see Gracey momentarily peer over Brit's shoulder and retreat into the hall with a panicked cackle which I consider more or less appropriate.

They lead us slightly further up the corridor and into another room. Lo and behold, it's the other side of the mirror. And Cossack's leaning against it, staring at the now unhooded Kay. He's not wearing his normal lilac suit. Instead, he wears a green cloak over an old navy outfit, adorned with a few Gaian military awards. He is the Commander, the closest thing the Kingdom has to a leader in the absence of a King.

"Hello Astro," he says.

"Hello Cossack."

I approach slowly. Cossack's eyes remain fixed on Kay as he draws his stool closer to the interrogation room's hearth.

"I didn't believe Aaron when he told me," he says. "How could I be expected to? It's ludicrous. An utterly ludicrous proposition. And yet here you both are."

He turns to fully face us, and I realise he is even more heavy-set than I remember.

"Stresses of leadership, I suppose," I think in an effort to be charitable.

He points at Fire: "And don't think you've missed my attention, you big bloody lizard. You're just as ludicrous. My friend here disappears for three months, and he shows up with a ghost and a scaly bastard oozing prophecies," he laughs. "Well, what do you want from me? What does the great absurdity wish from humble Cossack?"

I grit my teeth and prepare for one of our usual arguments, but thankfully Fire proves a bit more level-headed and explains what we want:

"Our enemy has upwards of a hundred-thousand soldiers at their disposal, we currently have less than a quarter of that, even if some of them are of vastly higher quality. If we want any hope of not becoming part of a megalomaniac phantom's personal playground, we need more soldiers."

Cossack chewed his lip and nodded.

"Well, let's see, after the war and Jeb's demilitarisation orders I can offer you maybe twelve thousand on a good day. They are charitably of mixed quality; motivation is low after losing two Kings, our army, and our actual home; and Jeb would probably come in here and execute me himself if he discovered I planned on fielding them anywhere. How exactly would any of this help your cause?"

He's trying to act obstinate, but I know him well enough to recognise his negotiating style. I hate it, but he's at least spelling out what he needs to get the ball rolling. Against all pretences, he hasn't said no.

"That's kind of the thing," I say. "Gaia alone would indeed just bring down the True Court's wrath. Even more so if we recruited any other Vanillans. They'd perceive that as a renewed conspiracy. So, we were hoping to maybe…" I stretch out my spine. "Run this past Jeb. I need you to get us a meeting with Jeb."

He looks to Fire.

"Apologies for calling you a big, ludicrous lizard," he begins. "Obviously, my friend has lost his mind and you're the only one I can expect any sense from. He has forgotten that Jeb sentenced him to clear the Fields of Acrisius of corpses, and that, as I presume the Fields are not yet spotless, he has committed treason by his mere presence. I am in considerable danger just talking to him. Telling Jeb would lead to his summary execution, and probably mine, too."

"I am unfamiliar with that part of your world's history, what prevents you from calling the meeting?"

"Since Dominus and Falcon's little gambits got exposed, Jeb has been treating everyone as a prospective traitor. Every Craft or Great House involved in the conflict between the Vanilla and Superlative Crafts is now being treated as a vassal. Before that, we were all effectively treated as allies or constituent parts of the True Court with a right to be heard before the Gathering Council. Now, we're here to be snubbed until proven supplicant."

"That's the thing," I jump in. "We have someone from before. Kay is here from-"

"Yes, I know," Cossack waves his hand. "From just after the Onslaught. Peak of his prestige, all that."

"Yes, and with a justification like that, you wouldn't even have to send a letter, you could just show up and demand an audience."

He nods reluctantly.

"I could, but I won't."

"Cossack-"

"You know that they will skin him alive the second he shows his face. Kay was still facing trial for treason before the Silhouette got him and… he could have gotten away with so much of it, even massacring the Brotherhood, if only he hadn't… all that about Sansoleil."

I nod slowly. My anger against Kay surges. Gaia's Blessed had been just about tolerated by the True Court, even with their prophecy about the lost Divine, Sansoleil, coming to free his kin from their physical forms at the end of days. Then, Kay had tried to manufacture a Sansoleil-centric heresy in order to justify massacring the Brotherhood. Claim to be Sansoleil, get them to bend the knee, slaughter away. Surprisingly, this only succeeded in incriminating him massively and led to a lot of people dying needlessly. And the Blessed… the less said about what Jeb did to them, the better.

I try to hide my lack of concern for Kay's wellbeing.

"The extra eye should be proof enough that he hasn't done that yet," I rationalise. "And at the very least, Kay Mandy being back from the dead is a decent pretext for an audience before the Gathered."

Cossack shakes his head with more resolve.

"Coss," I press. "He's on board with this. He knows the risks and he will go through with this."

"Astro, what you're telling me is happening, it's terrifying. It's wretched. It must be stopped… I want to help. I'll even risk my neck committing Gaian troops but I - I helped him tie his own noose once before. I can't do it again."

I place a hand on his shoulder. He digs his nails into his forehead and stares despairingly at Kay. I grab his chin and force him to look me in the eye.

"Cossack, it wasn't your fault. Believe me, from what I've seen, this was all a long time coming. He is responsible for his fate. You are responsible for yours."

I lift my hands from him and back up. He stares at me with so much anger.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" I conclude.

Cossack shambles out of the room. He says to Brit to guard the door, and the detective leans against it and draws his signature pistol. He doesn't point it at us, but he starts polishing it with his handkerchief so hard I am surprised it doesn't shatter under the force of his efforts. Nearby, Gracey shrugs and starts fooling around with his knife, a characteristically nasty glint in his eyes. I remember the things Kay asked them to do, which they did with little question, and I feel a little ill. Poor Walt…

I go over to the window, and watch Cossack come in. He and Kay don't say anything for a while, though the latter puts on this sad little smile. Cossack's features remain trapped in the same indignant glower, like an unwilling statue. Then, he asks:

"Will you do it?"

Kay's smile vanishes. He has a philosophical look on his face, as though scrutinising the taste of a sharp-tasting but prestigious wine. Cossack grunts encouragingly. Kay finally answers:

"Yes."

Cossack turns his eyes to the window, and I could swear he's staring right at me.

"Then, we're going to see Jeb."

He leaves. I finally wonder if Cossack and I understand each other a little better. Then, I see the look of fear and rage in Kay's eyes, and I realise we don't. Unlike Cossack, I can only muster contempt for him. I make efforts to remind myself why I once wasted so much emotion on him. They ring hollower every time.


We enter the throne room. It used to be Void's. Technically it's Ryan's. But now the Administrator of the Vanilla Craft does not sit in pride of place. Instead, the fiery locks of Jeb glint in that sunlight which dares break the clouds and force its way through a stained-glass window. In his right hand he clasps the glossy, sea green heart of the first Dragon, in his right he twists his adamantine spear. Even from the end of the hall, I can see his amusement.

To his right stands the Blind Watcher: Herobrine. He towers over other men, only Fire exceeding him, but even then, the Watcher intimidates me more than even Claw ever could. His armour is obsidian. A bedrock-plated sword adorns his back. His frame is mountainous. And those white, luminous eyes see more in a moment than I could ever hope to learn.

Cossack is at the head of us, head bowed respectfully. I follow suit, as does Fire. We trail after him. Then, Aaron, Secret and Tassadar. At the back of our train, Kay is escorted by two Gaian soldiers, one of whom Cossack called Thomas. There is a sack over his head to hide his identity, though an astute observer might still see a flash of his scarf around the shoulders, where his cloak connects to his armour.

I catch glimpses of many familiar faces, some friends, many foes. I see the sympathetic eyes of Ozzy the Selvan; of Ruary the Legionnaire; of Wolves and Trillian Glare of shining Vangaard; of Bost from ruined Concordis; at a distance I see the familiar hood of Gogyst, chief priest of Arcation, dip into a respectful nod. Their gazes betray friendly recognition, but also deep fear.

Other recognitions are less than friendly. Ellen Domini, the Raven, glares at me for my part in her husband's downfall. Ray Tunes averts his eyes and looks ashamed at the sight of Tassadar. Carsey, who tormented us all the way back in Zine, looks gobsmacked to see me again.

And, of course, they are there: what remains of the Brotherhood. Komplex looks ready to summon his armour at any moment. Ubi adjusts his turtle mask and reaches for a chakram that isn't there. And Tauto Chrone, the leader of their Chapter, brushes a strand of black hair from his eyes and scrutinises my face. I see the flaming whip his brother once wielded at his hip, and I feel a puzzling sense of guilt. Jay Chrone, the Jolly Saint, had been a wretched man, but he didn't deserve to die in Kay's little plot.

I feel like a hypocrite. Kay had retired after we arrived in the Vanilla Craft, swearing off war, politics and the whole world outside his small farm. And yet, the second the Brotherhood attacked my holdings, he took up the sword on my behalf. Now, I'm more concerned about the hurt he caused them than I am about the imminent threat to Kay's life. I am a poison.

We reach the front and kneel. Jeb stares smugly down at us. Cossack attempts to engage in the normal formal greeting and the ruler of the Divines cuts him off.

"What brings you here, Astro? I doubt you have fully atoned for your failure. I assure you, redemption is not wholly impossible."

A round of chuckles sounds out from among the lesser Divines sown throughout the crowd. Grumm, Bone… I think about the number of soldiers each of them commands and feel a mixture of terror and tentative hope. Jeb casts his eyes around the vassalised lords of the Vanilla Craft and some more scattered laughter breaks out, some half-hearted, the rest overcompensating. I see Ryan, the Administrator, exhale politely and return his focus to a list in his hand.

"I apologise, my lord," I say, still kneeling. "But I was abducted, and in the process became aware of a much bigger threat."

"Is it that beast next to you?" Jeb scoffs again. Then, after waiting for his subjugated audience to laugh again, he continues, "What is he? Endling? Half-breed? Either way he has no place in my presence," he rises, "I am Jeb Persson, King of the Divines, Protector of Man, son of Notch the Ascended and I shall not abide the spawn of Ishinge."

I grimace and shoot an apologetic glance at Fire. Outside of a slight lowering of eyelids and a short sigh, Fire remains stoic.

"He is neither, actually, he is a friend of mine and an ally of the Court. This is Fire, founder of the Shelter and Leader of the Mencur-Besh. He seeks your aid in battle."

I rise to one knee.

"Will you hear his plea?"

Jeb smirks and attempts to exchange the emotion with Herobrine, but the Blind watcher, with a subtle twitch of his neck, indicates that Jeb should do it, for prudency's sake. Notch's son rolls his eyes and acquiesces.

"He may speak. What I hear is up to him."

Fire begins formally: "Beyond your world are many more, one of which, called Nexus, was up until recently ruled by a warlord without equal, the Entity. This warlord captured not just cities or countries, but entire worlds, with the eventual goal of using a machine to bring all of existence into one. This warlord is also a cosmic embodiment of order, and as such does not tolerate the chaos brought on by consciousness, once the unification of worlds is done it would absorb all that exists to achieve its perfect state of order."

Fire pauses briefly to let the information settle. "The Shelter is a group of rebels, intent on overthrowing this warlord. In a recent turn of events, the Entity was betrayed by one of its underlings, a phantom of fear called Freak, who is now impersonating it. While the danger of existential absorption is gone, we now face the possibility of existence under the rule of fear itself. We require additional military support to assault the enemy base of operations and prevent their plan from coming to fruition. At best we have a week to prepare for the assault if we want to preserve our worlds as they are."

Jeb chews on a tuft of his beard. I see his eyes spark up as he connects the dots of power.

"If you had come to me sooner, we could perhaps have come to an arrangement. But, with only a week to go, you're a tad bit close to the wire. Most of my armies are at least a week away. And that is without mention of the Court of Whispers out to the East. They have been mobile."

This is his trick, start out sympathetic, and then…

"And this is all assuming you're being truthful isn't it. I would need time to evaluate the threat your Freak poses to us. Whether his goals are what you claim them to be, whether this machine exists, and whether the Shelter is any better. And that's assuming I believe your premise of other worlds beyond the Sane Realm, the Nether and End existing. As it is, I only have your word you're from anywhere but the Shore of Oddities. This could be a trick from the Court of Whispers to redirect our efforts. In the absence of proof, what do you expect me to say?"

There is a rumbling from among the assembled leaders. It's not a bad dismissal. A soundly justified explanation for a colossally stupid decision. Even those I consider friends are caught in consternation at the thought of the Endlings and their peers marching into the Old Continent once again. I hear Kay's boots scraping on the tiles as he almost rises and then is stopped by Thomas Bone. I want to vomit. I stand up.

"We do have some proof, my lord."

I walk over to Kay.

"Ah, there is a point in the prisoner after all," says Herobrine with a cocked eyebrow. "And here I was starting to think you'd brought him along for good luck."

"Praise be for that," Jeb chuckles. "It certainly wasn't working."

Some slightly more sincere laughter rings out. I feel a little comforted, but as I help Kay to his feet and put my hand on the cloth it sinks in that this really is a do-or-die moment. Either we cow Jeb with shock, or we shock him into violence. I hear Kay underneath the sack.

"...How are we Jeb it's been some time - fuck! No, that's wrong. What else…"

He is practising his entrance. Of course he is. All sympathetic emotion flows out of me. I shake my head.

"Note that we tried to avoid this," I grumble loudly. "But it's the best we could do. Allow me to introduce you to the Shelter's former Commander."

I rip the sack from his head. There is a collective gasp. Ryan drops his scroll. Chrone instinctively reaches for his right eye. Gogyst forces his way through the crowd to get a better look. Herobrine looks mesmerised.

"Hail my lord," says Kay to Jeb, "My master," he says to Herobrine. He kneels.

All eyes fall on Jeb. He is speechless. He presses a knuckle into his beard so hard it should be leaving an indent.

"What trickery is this?" hisses the King of the Divines.

He tries to take a step forward, but Herobrine puts a hand out to stop him.

Kay isn't paying attention, he squints around, looking at the faces which gape at him. When he has done a full circuit, he returns his attention to the throne. Notionally, he does it to address Jeb. His eyes are fixed on Herobrine. The Watcher's blank eyes are unreadable. Jeb's are sparking, incoherent - the eyes of a wounded animal.

"My custom," he begins. "Would be to make a grand speech where I retell my service with much poeticism. Let's say something along the lines of: 'I am Kay Mandy, Commandant of the Tenth, Lap Dog of Herobrine. Did I not bleed for this Court, for the reunification of the House of Persson, for the defeat of the Endlings and the ascension of Notch? And in return for this blood, did I ever demand any recompense? Wealth? Land? Office? No, I took with me only what I won through service: good reputation and trust. Will you not then hear this loyal soldier as he finally demands payment?' Yes, that sounds about right. It would be my custom to say almost exactly that. But my custom is not worth much these days, is it?"

He begins to rub his shoulder and to look around.

"I can see it. In your faces. My fears are confirmed. Once I was a hero. I was your hero," he gestures to Herobrine. "You spoke to me, called me from nothing and you made me better. I wasn't some mercenary, some common crook, I was a General fighting in a holy war for truth, justice, for independence for the Thaumlands - do you remember them?!"

He whirls around and marches towards me. I back away. He is quaking with fury. His accent fluttering between precision and brogue like a war-tattered banner. Aaron shoots me a look which asks, 'should we stop this?' I shake my head. Somehow, I feel ecstatic. Somehow, I'm smiling. A look at Jeb's venomous countenance fails to dim it: I've gone mad.

"Do you remember how we revered you, Herobrine? Worshipped you? Made offerings at your feet? Do you remember how you promised us safety, security, peace? You stood by as he burned the home you promised us!"

His finger points at Jeb like a spear. He pants. I see a tear land on the floor. He staggers and then sits down.

"I was going to join them. Guard them. Lead them, maybe. And suddenly, they were gone. And you stopped answering my prayers. I was alone and I had no purpose, all I had was the training you gave me. So, I made a vow, to you, to the world, to myself, that I would be the hero you asked me to be. I would return to my friends, protect them, be a paragon and beacon of light to them and all those who gazed upon me!"

He wipes the tears from his eyes. He rises and approaches the throne. A line of guards with glowing, blue-tipped spears emerges from the crowd. He halts before coming in range, just about. He breathes deeply, closes his eyes, and lowers his tone.

"But I failed in that. I am prideful, I am violent, I am vindictive and that is not on you, that is me. I am the reason I failed. And by the way everyone here is looking at me, it looks like I keep on failing, and I am sorry. I wish I could say something that doesn't sound false, but here and now I am begging your forgiveness for what I come to do! I…" He trails off, Herobrine has looked away. "Fire's made the big appeal to self-preservation and reason but I beg you, as a man who has seen the legacy he leaves, join me. Give me one last chance to be a hero to you."

He cranes his neck and tries to catch Herobrine's eye again, but Notch's brother turns around to face the wall. Kay talks to his back, hand outstretched as though cupping water from a dwindling spring.

"Give me one last chance to be as we were. Then, I'll disappear into my disgrace, and I'll not trouble you again."

He kneels.

"Please."

I look around. No one is speaking and I wish they would just hurry up and say anything. Jeb glowers away, glaring at Kay without actually looking at him - his mind is a million miles away, summoning thunderclouds and conjuring winds that would eviscerate this creature who has slighted him.

"Good," I think, "Jeb's deserved a slighting for a long, long time."

Finally, he scoffs.

"Get out of my sight. I will give the Shelter no aid. Perhaps some of the vassals will help you. I'll ensure their holdings are protected in their absence."

He smiles his cold little smile, and the warning is clear. If you leave, Jeb will take everything from you. I want to cry. I look to Fire in apology, but his eyes are fixed on the throne.

"And to ensure you understand how serious we are about the safeguarding of your holdings, I shall come with you as hostage."

My eyes snap towards the throne. Herobrine has turned around. He has a mad grin on his face and his eyes are wide as rivers. There are murmurs of approval.

"Should any move be made against your lands, I should be held personally liable to you and shall provide recompense from my own fortune."

Herobrine throws his sword to the ground and shoots an encouraging look around the hall.

Gogyst marches forward first and throws his staff of tricks atop the bedrock blade.

"Arcation stands with you, Watcher! We are few in number, but we are mighty!" He kneels.

"Fear not for numbers!" Herobrine responds, "Those troops I have here shall accompany us to ensure the effort's success. Leader of the Mencur-Besh, what say you to five thousand Blackshells, and ten thousand Pigmen?"

I look at Fire, beaming.

With barely suppressed satisfaction Fire replies: "Gladly accepted. The Shelter already houses people of many different worlds so there are no issues from our side."

"Then come, be housed and be many! We go to war!" Herobrine calls.

He doesn't even seem to care that only around a third of the hall cheers in earnest. Fewer still come forward. The usual suspects do. Ozzy the Selvan jogs up and throws his emerald short sword into the pile. Wolves Glare approaches and offers his wooden blade. Ruary of the Legion throws in his shield. Cossack, bearing no weapon, offers his hat.

And then no one moves. I am more than happy to accept this. Herobrine is powerful, we have the Gaians, and even after all this strife Legion still has considerable numbers, we can work with this. But then, something truly unexpected happens.

A knife, and a glove which sparks with lightning are thrown into the pile. Tauto Chrone, looking right at Kay, says:

"The Brotherhood stands with you."

Kay looks confused but elated. I am mystified. Chrone puts on the black, iron mask Kay won from him at the Battle of the Nether Highway, and which he won back at the Sansoleil Massacre, and he kneels beside Gogyst.

And with that there is a new influx. Bost and the Concordites; the librarian pirates of Woobly; Ray Tunes and Viral, bringing with them what remains of Williamsburg and the Ghosts of Calais respectively; the administrator Ryan and his warlike moderators; a band of Thaumic warriors under Zeratul; even old Halberdson. Their numbers are no longer great, but one last time the Vanilla Craft has put aside its differences and become whole. I feel warmth swell up within me.

Herobrine leads us outside and far into the nearby plains, in deep discussion with Fire the whole way. He summons his pigmen and they begin to build a portal to his specifications. Obsidian piles on top of obsidian, until there is a great portal before us.

I marvel at the army that is beginning to amass, as Pigmen join Gaians, join Legionnaires, join Vangaardians and so on, forming their ranks and bringing hastily gathered materials. I know their numbers cannot exceed the tens of thousands, but it feels like all the world is here.

Then, I hear Fire calling to me. I go over. He stands with Herobrine and Aaron. Aaron has a dumb grin on his face.

"What is it?" I ask. "How can I help?"

"We need to get word back to Nexus so they can dial in this bigger portal. The whole reason this was built is because I can't repeat what I did back in my world, no ender eyes to guide the magic."

"Oh, I could absolutely head back and convey the news?"

"Well," Aaron says, "You know the earpieces? Well, while we were looking for you, Brit started work on an improved version with longer range - long enough to talk to Mo back at the portal. Thankfully, he finished it and Fire reckons he can upgrade it to help interface the entire army. We were wondering if you wanted to do the honours of telling Mo the coordinates the Shelter needs to input?"

I begin beaming anew.

"Naturally."

Fire pulls out the dimensional scanner, Aaron hands me his earpiece and attaches the microphone to my sleeve.

"Hello Mo, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, boss," he oozes smugly.

"Note down these coordinates for me, will you?"

Fire holds up the screen and I squint down at the figures, the glow of the screen stinging my eyes. I recite them with some hesitancy, laughing nervously and joyously all at once.

"You got all that?"

"Absolutely."

"Now, I need you to go through that portal and tell them to open this baby up. We might need some space cleared. Ask for Steve and Jennifer. Tell them we have a lot of new arrivals."

"Got it, talk soon," he says with a little chuckle, "Take it Kay came through?"

I look over in his direction. I see him chatting hesitantly with Cossack, often stopping, and staring off into space. And I keep thinking back to the ridge we sat on looking at the Mencur-Besh coming through only this morning - and how much I reviled him then. And somehow, during that speech he had recaptured everything that had made me cherish him for so long. His passion, fierce and affectionate, his anger at the injustices of the world, and his contrapuntal, idealist belief that they didn't have to exist. For a brief moment, I had seen my friend again.

And somehow, I resented him all the more for coming back, knowing full well he wouldn't stay.

"He did fine," I say flatly, tightening my fist.

We wait for some time. Herobrine moves on to issue orders and establish contact with the factions who have joined us - we believe that, on top of Herobrine's army, we'll be able to leverage twenty-five thousand men from our various allies by the time everyone is mobilised. discussing favours that could call in for supplies.

Halberdson seems to be very eager to get Herobrine to purchase anything and everything under the sun from his wide array of trade contacts. Armour, guns, food, materials for airships. He has someone for everything, and he rattles off ideas and opportunities so rapidly he has the aspect of a man fleeing a fire in his own house. Occasionally, he'll call Fire over to inquire about what the Shelter can support or could best use. Fire is less receptive than Herobrine, but I'm still pretty sure Halberdson will have managed to sell him a metric fortune's worth of something or other by the end of it.

Tassadar catches up with Zeratul. Ray helps the elderly Viral equip his armour. The Brotherhood stand in a circle, repeating their mantras. Not a stone's throw away, Arcation kneel before Gogyst as he recites their sacred rites. Last time I saw them, these two groups had to be put on opposite ends of the battlefield so they didn't end up fighting. I remind myself why I hate the Brotherhood, but I'm glad they're on our side. I am quietly contented.

Then, a strange wind whips through my hair. It leads toward the portal. I turn just in time for it to flash into life, for the blue, gel-like surface to fill the frame, and for the shadows of the world on the other side to begin to flit across it.

Fire and Herobrine begin issuing orders and the neat ranks of the Herobrinian army, the Legion, the Vangaardian knights and the Gaian host begin to form a column to advance neatly in. The others, smaller in number and more focused on individual than collective discipline, filter between them, filling up any space that is not obviously taken.

As they do so, several members of Shadow's coven rush through. Iridia comes up to me and I brace myself for some sort of argument. But, in a manifestly pleasant surprise, she is friendly.

"The master told us to help with teleporting things to the portal, from what I hear we'll be reinforced by the Mencur-Besh soon."

"Yes," I respond. "We'll need supplies in particular. Most airships have been decommissioned since the War, so we'll need help transporting materials to make new ones. Also, the usual shipments of food, armour, weapons - actually, firearms will be a big one." I realise I'm running away with myself. "Apologies, that's a lot to keep track of. This is just all so huge."

I clap her on the shoulder and walk up to Fire, who stands near the portal.

"Well, how do you feel about our chances?" I ask him with a grin.

"Significantly better than before, I can say that much. Aside from that, there are some weaknesses in the Tower's defence plans that I am fairly sure will stay open with neither the Ender nor Claw around to close them. But more about that once we have our formal strategy planning session."

I nod. I'd hoped for a more energised response, but I suppose it's good Fire has his eye on the ball.

"Oh, naturally. At least we have an actual army this time. And a literal god on our side," I laugh. "I'd like to see how Freak deals with that."

Before Fire can bring me back to earth, Herobrine gives the order for his men to advance, and the first Pigmen begin to step through. The column of troops seems to stretch for miles, armour gleaming even in the sparse light of an overcast day.

"We've got a chance," I reassure myself.

I close my eyes on this image of imminent victory, and I step through the portal.