Chapter 83: A God, a Dragon, and a Beast
Perspective: Herobrine
The stone split into a shape like lightning as Herobrine's sword crashed into it. And, like lightning, this striking shape was followed by a thunderous crack. However, the walking earthquake that was the ravager handily drowned out this impressive blow. Herobrine grunted to have missed His target once more. He resumed his pursuit in a steady jog, watching as the creature and its grey-skinned rider rounded the corner.
His eyes snapped shut. He saw through the eyes of the Wraith. A small contingent of Eye-and-Claws operatives and Vanillans fought their way through a mixture of Tower soldiers and grey-skinned Vithians. Ring of sword. Boom of firearm. Clatter of armour battered every which way. Granular and uninformative. And then, something to latch on to: the slimy thud and subtle crack of a javelin piercing a windpipe. Viking, a Vanillan moderator esteemed for his prowess in battle, pulled his modified staff from the throat of an opponent just in time to notice the beast bearing down on them.
Herobrine quickened his pace. In the corner of his eye he saw the beast shatter the engagement like an artillery shell. Friendly and opposing blood spattered the sides of the beast as it vanished through an obsidian gate which closed so quickly afterwards it might well have been chasing the beast as well. The Blind watcher cursed and finished his approach.
The fighting had almost died down. The Eye-and-Claws had recovered quicker than their Vanillans, He felt blood washing over his boot, and looked down to see Viking coughing up blood. Wounded but determined not to die, the moderator used his staff to pull himself up. The fighting was almost finished. Herobrine frowned as he saw how the crystal at the tip had been filed down to make it function as a spear, a near-blasphemous act.
"Sorry m'lord," Viking spat blood, "We'll have this door down in a moment."
Herobrine did not respond. He splayed his hands against the door and closed his eyes. The Wraith manifested, unseen, on the other side.
"Could we get a demolitions team down here in sector four? Got an obsidian gate that doesn't want to move. Fedwin, Scrump, you around?"
"Sorry Vike," grunted Fedwin, known as the tinkerer. "My golem's been damaged. Running repairs now."
Then, Scrumping Pup, leader of Woobly, answered: "We're a little way out, be with you in maybe fifteen?"
Herobrine followed the conversation closely enough to know he would have to do this himself. Through the Wraith's eyes he saw a large, torchlit hall, at the end of which was a large staircase leading up several floors. In it sat three obstacles.
First, two ranks of ten, entirely comprised of grey-skinned Vithian Testificates. Each was armed with their habitual assortment of light armour, crossbows, and axes. That would be easily dealt with.
Next, a bigger problem. Four golems. Each made of bedrock like his sword. Each with a red eye in the centre of its skull. Each eye glowed so brightly it seemed to suck the light out of the face encasing it, leaving just a dark shadow. All were killable, but he had not yet seen them in such numbers.
And then, naturally, he saw the object of his pursuit: the ravager and rider. The rider sneered down at the door, clutching the reins tightly. The ravager snorted and slurped air in and out, a thick, coarse tongue running over its lips. Its horns glinted hungrily in the torchlight.
"Woobly will be here shortly m'lord," groaned the moderator, tearing the Blind Watcher black to reality.
Viking stumbled again and returned to leaning on his spear.
Herobrine nodded in decision.
"No need," he answered.
He would dispense with his usual theatrics, and simply cut the door down himself. He planted one foot behind him and drew the blade back. He looked through the Wraith again to identify the bar holding the obsidian door in place and adjusted his stance. One good thrust would do it…
A familiar voice crackled into his ear:
"Hey, sorry I had trouble with the microphone again."
The Blind Watcher cocked an eyebrow. It was Dinnerbone.
"Is sector four the one with the big obsidian gate that has Herobrine standing outside it?"
Herobrine abandoned his stance and squinted at the moderator. Viking, however, was looking back down the hallway, his jaw wilting with disbelief. The Watcher became aware of pounding footsteps.
"So, I fell behind Astro and the others after that thing with the grey villagers and got a little lost. Thankfully, I ran into a buddy."
Coming down the hallway towards them was Dinnerbone, yes, and looking quite ordinary. He tuned his ukulele as he spoke, punctuating his speech with an occasional probing pluck. His black hat hugged his scalp as eagerly as ever.
Less ordinarily, he sat astride the neck of a dragon. A colossal dragon whose wings scraped the walls and shred tapestries as they went. A dragon with a coat composed of the stars themselves. A dragon the Blind Watcher recognised. This was Glowstar, who he had seen soaring high above him so often at the Shelter. He didn't seem pleased to see Herobrine, momentarily baring his fangs and snarling before containing himself.
"Do you think Glowie's big enough to knock it down?" Dinnerbone called. Then, he frowned, craned his neck, and looked the dragon in the eye. "You're cool with that, right?"
Glowstar sighed.
"Yes."
A smile sprinted across Herobrine's face. Perhaps there was time for theatrics after all.
"Wait for my signal. Don't worry, it will be self-evident."
He closed his eyes and spoke as the Wraith. A low, faint yet profound tone. Like an echo in an abyss.
"So, you choose to cower here? Behind obsidian gates and a bedrock wall?"
Raised his sword. The rider's eyes and head began to dart around every which way.
"Know ye not? None escape the Blind Watcher's gaze."
The Wraith, with its ragged clothes and filthy skin became visible. Its white eyes flashed, and the Vithian ranks shrank back in fear. Their ranks became chaotic. Axes were thrust out like spears. Crossbows raised up as makeshift shields. An instinctive, primordial fear spread through them. Only the fury of the rider kept them in formation, but even he chewed his inner cheek fearfully.
"It was I who slew the Withers."
Boom! Herobrine struck the ground with his sword. The Wraith's eyes flashed and blinded both rider and foot soldiers. The golems looked on impassively. Herobrine was grinning now, anticipation of the coming triumph surging through him.
"It was I who shattered the false god of the Obsidian Empire."
He struck the ground once more. Another disorienting flash. Herobrine glanced back significantly. Glowstar began his charge.
"You too shall fall."
He thrust his sword between the gates and shattered the crossbar. Glowstar left the ground. The Blind Watcher spread his arms and roared with laughter.
"Bow down to Herobrine!"
Glowstar slammed into the gates and threw them open, Dinnerbone screaming half-joyously as he just about held on to the dragon's mane. Herobrine advanced beneath, and the golems, who had been anticipating him but not the dragon, fired blasts which he cleanly deflected with his sword.
A whip of Glowstar's tail sent the Vithian foot soldiers flying. Then, in a swift, serpentine motion, the dragon reared up above the ravager and its rider, and a shower of blue stars burst forth from its mouth.
As the smoke cleared, it became clear that one of the golems had been able to adjust its threat assessment in time. Its bedrock skin glowed dark blue as the starfire faded, and behind it the ravager rider stood unharmed and angry. A blast from the burnt golem's eye struck Glowstar on the flank and struck him from the sky. Dinnerbone slammed painfully into the ground beside him.
Herobrine quickened his stride. He split the fist of an oncoming golem with his sword, then whirled it up to do the same with its head.
The glowing golem charged for another blast, this time aimed at Glowstar's head. At the last second, Dinnerbone shot back to life, and with a strenuous thrust of his hand the golem's head twisted to the side and shot one of its fellows. The golem it struck steadied itself, and the glowing golem's head churned slowly back into place.
Herobrine sidestepped the fist of another golem, then cleaved through its torso, leaving it to fall away in two halves. He moved to attack the glowing golem, only to find himself rolled away from his target to narrowly avoid the ravager's charge. It skidded to a halt just beside the gates and began to reshuffle for another attack.
Glowstar rallied just in time to strike the recently blasted golem with his tail. It struck the ground, and the sound of its fall had only just begun to ring out when Herobrine's blade plunged through its back. The red light snuffed out like any old candle.
Dinnerbone cheered, prompting Herobrine to turn his head. The glowing golem loomed behind his interdimensional relative, its eye ready to burst with energy. Without thinking, the Blind Watcher heaved his arms and sent his sword flying into the golem's still-smouldering torso. It fell back, disabled.
Just as Herobrine took a breath, the ravager knocked it out of him. Suddenly, he was holding onto its horns, shattering the tiled floor as he tried to slow the beast's advance with his heavy obsidian boots. Soon, he found himself pressed against a wall, straining to hold back the horns. His eyes locked with the beast's, and he saw its furious intent. Even without its rider, this creature wanted to kill him. Herobrine's eyes flashed white, and the beast slammed its own shut, continuing to press forward.
Then, a serpentine neck whipped around. Glowstar's teeth sank into side of the ravager, and starfire scorched the flesh beneath. It reared up, groaning. The rider fell to the floor. Seeing the beast's neck exposed, Herobrine struck out. He found flesh. Flesh gave way to bone. Crack! The beast fell back, dead.
As he panted from the exertion, Herobrine heard the shuffle of the rider loping towards the stairs. Dinnerbone squinted after him, then waved his hand. The Vithian leader flew to the left and slammed into the lid of an open chest. Seconds later, compelled by the impact and its newfound weight, fell back in the opposite direction, and slammed shut. The lock clicked.
Herobrine and Dinnerbone chuckled, then Viking and his men ran in to the hall and began to investigate its security. Glowstar limped out of the hall, into the care of the three Eye-and-Claws operatives, who had already begun to rifle through their inventory for medical equipment.
"Glowstar!" Herobrine called.
The dragon titled his head but did not turn.
"Thank you!" he concluded.
The dragon made a gesture almost like a respectful nod, then began to discuss his options with the Eye-and-Claws fighters. Naturally, a healing potion would take some time and be very painful, so could perhaps a concoction of strength, or maybe speed compensate for his injuries and so on and so… The Blind Watcher's gaze was drawn to the staircase.
"It can't be…" He muttered.
He closed his eyes and saw as the Wraith.
"It is!"
Viking looked to Dinnerbone, who simply shrugged from his seat on the chest.
These stairs led directly up to the top floor, where both the throne room and activation mechanism were. In fact, the corridor gave him a straight shot all the way to the elaborate doorway guarding it.
Herobrine adjusted the frequency on his microphone.
"Mercer, rally the blackshells and get to sector four, we have a line on the activation mechanism."
Mercer quickly assented, and Herobrine began to laugh. Viking spoke up, with as much warning as enthusiasm.
"You're serious? I'll get on the line to Astro at once!"
Herobrine put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. Warm in theory, but firm enough to remind the moderator of their power dynamic.
"Well, don't be hasty. Why let the Gaians steal all the glory? Wait until my men are in position, then we can coordinate a two-pronged assault."
Viking maintained firm eye contact but began to tremble a little. Dinnerbone looked back and forth between them, confused as to the nature of the exchange.
"Naturally, my lord," the moderator bowed his head.
Herobrine grinned, then stepped forward.
"Be ready men! In but a few minutes you shall be at the forefront of our great victory! The Throne of the Entity shall be ours!"
He raised his sword up and it rippled with white light. A cheer went up. Herobrine turned to survey the stairs and plot his ascent to glory.
He was met by the warm, hot wind of a desert. Reminiscent of a dreadful day. The gates boomed shut, sealing out Glowstar and the Eye-and-Claws. The torches flickered, and the hall became dark enough to smother the very memory of light. The flames lost their orange and surged sickly yellow. The darkness stayed unmoved.
"Shall it now?"
The voice was snide and creeping. A centipede crawling over the mind. Yet no body appeared to give voice to it. Herobrine looked through the eyes of the wraith. Still nothing.
"We'll keep the interesting ones, shall we?"
Dinnerbone began to say something, then gasped. The Wraith saw him, choking, lifted in the air by an unseen force. Then, a small, precise cut opened on his brow, and his head fell. Dinnerbone fell with a thud on top of the chest, trapped in a whimpering slumber.
Herobrine began to make his way towards his comrade's unconscious body, gripping his sword ever closer and trying to make it shine brighter. Viking summoned a little light to the crystalline tip of his staff-made-spear. It made no difference to the dark.
Then, there was a noise like bursting. Blood covered the Blind Watcher's face. He looked down. Viking was dead. No. Not dead. Destroyed. The mass of blood and viscera was only identifiable by the crystal-tipped weapon lying among it.
"To me, men!" roared Herobrine.
He thrust his glowing sword up like a beacon, but it was choked by the darkness until he could barely see it above him. Faint creams reached him like almost-echoes through the hall, scrambling through the dark.
Through the Wraith's eyes he saw them running to and fro. Breaking. Bursting. Severed and shredded as though rent by a terrible set of claws.
"Not many interesting ones, unfortunately," cackled the voice.
Using the Wraith's sight, Herobrine managed to stop a nearby soldier. Then another. And another. Something like a formation assembled.
"Show yourself, fiend!"
Something like a snake brushed his foot. Or no, it was like a tree-root. A briar? He saw a set of glowing yellow eyes at the end of the hall, a terrible glowing grin beneath them.
"It's Freak, actually."
Thorns long as spears sprouted from the root. They punctured his men. Spines split. Skulls cracked. Then, a briar punched through the armour over his gut, sticking out the other side. Obsidian punctured as though it were paper. The Blind Watcher gasped, then with a swipe of his sword cut the root. It receded. He fell to one knee, keeping his sword-arm pressed against his wound.
"Whatever your name is, show yourself! That I may smite you as I have a million foes before! Then, you will know the might of Herobrine, the Blind Watcher!"
More cackling. The Wraith, still unseen, searched the room, but saw nothing.
"There is some bark on you. But no bite. Are you sure you weren't the Lap Dog in that arrangement?"
Suddenly, the glowing eyes and maddening grin were above him. Freak. He swung backhanded at the apparition. The glowing features vanished as his sword was about to connect. He struck nothing. Then, they flashed back into view, and Herobrine felt a pain in his arm. The sword fell from his hand. Seconds later, another pain on his forehead. He fell backwards.
As he struck the ground, he realised the floor was no longer tiled. Poisoned grey sand rubbed his cheek. The darkness had gone. Brown, rotting skies hung above. Clusters of skulls floated above. Herobrine sat up, heart shuddering.
"Why are we here, I wonder?" Freak asked unseen.
He saw Steve, his mentor, on a sand dune some ways off, the grey withering spreading up his side. He called out to him. Pleading for death.
"Can you give it to him?"
Herobrine backed away. He couldn't be there again. Not there. Anywhere else.
"Please…" He whimpered.
"Look at you. Herobrine, slayer of a million foes, fear of a million worlds. And you are scared of a memory."
A memory… yes! He was still in the Tower. In the hall. His head snapped up and he glared at Freak. The phantom grinned back.
"I am fear!" Herobrine grunted.
The Wraith became visible, eyes ready to explode in a flash of blinding, eviscerating light and erase this creature forever.
A taloned fist struck out. The Wraith's eyes went dark. Blood spilled down. The Wraith became a shambling thing, casting its eyes around in pursuit of the master who had convinced him of his invincibility.
Freak lifted the Wraith from the floor, his grin settling into a cold smile. His jaw unhinged.
The voice continued in Herobrine's mind: "No, you're not fear. But you're about to meet him."
The Blind Watcher closed his eyes and surrendered to the nightmares. Even past horror was better than the present.
