AN: Hello! Another Chapter for you viewers. I didn't forget, it's still Wednesday, I swear!
KatahdinCafe figured out that the garbled text at the end of each Herobrine Book is coded in Atbash. Copy and paste it into an Atbash translator and see what it says. Some of you may be surprised. For figuring it out, KatahdinCafe deserves a Victory Cookie! Enjoy.
(::)
The Perspectives jump around a bit this Chapter. Hopefully it's not too confusing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, I'd add more music.
Chapter 95
Origins
[Floyd]
"What do you know about Hackers?"
Even in the fast approaching darkness, with the sun setting and whatever remaining daylight being obscured by foliage, I saw how Douglass's face screwed up in confusion.
"Hackers? That's… wasn't that the phrase you and your compatriots were throwing around?" He replied like any person would. There was no hint of malice or of recognition on his face. And why would there be? He hadn't been around long enough to see the type of people the rest of us had.
He had no idea he was a Hacker.
"Hackers are Crafters with…" I hesitated before outright shaking my head. "Never mind. You see my eyes?" I trailed a finger over my vision, ghosting across the dark lines that made me what I was. Douglass nodded. "You have these lines too. I think… I think it's supposed to mean you're a Hacker."
That was what Attila had recognized me by. The very first thing that drew her attention; that made her fear me, a person she had never met. Aside from the obvious dark smoke, the lines were the only way to tell whether the eyes you were staring down were the eyes of a Hacker.
I watched Douglass raise a tentative hand to his own eyes, mimicking my movement as he ghosted a finger over them. "So… what does this mean for us? Does this make us special?" His eyes lifted in a mix of emotions. "Unique?"
"It makes us hated." I shot him down harshly. He cast his eyes back to the ground and I could see the worry start to surface. It was nothing compared to what I had been feeling the whole day. "Hackers have abused their powers to the point that Minecraftia universally despises them. They've attacked settlements, taken Kingdoms on a whim, killed God knows how many people. And it's because of their actions that Crafters like us, with no ties to them, will be persecuted."
I saw that my words were hitting Douglass hard and I quickly backed off. It was a lot to drop on somebody and I understood how terrified he was…
But that was why I brought him away from the others. Away from prying eyes and potentially violent thoughts.
"But… but you're not hated, right?" Douglass asked, a little hopefully, with a trembling smile on his face. "The others… your compatriots… they don't persecute you. I've seen how they've treated you and they—"
"They don't know." I muttered loud enough for him to hear. He instantly went quiet. "I… I haven't told them."
I was too afraid to. Cobb and Soul hated Hackers almost as much as they hated the Endward Cult. And now, with the news that killing Hackers could trigger Bounty Days…
I wanted to believe they would stand by my side. That after everything we've been through, they'd accept my strange powers. But… but the uncompromising way Cobb and Soul had spoken of Hackers left no room for acceptance. I had no idea what they would do if they knew.
"…What powers do we possess that make us so feared?" Douglass asked as he held his hands up before his eyes. He looked wary, as if he thought fire would spew from his finger tips at any second. "Is it something the others don't have? Gina or Guile or Troy?"
"For me… I think it's speed." I spoke quietly as I examined my hands. "Whenever I feel backed into a corner… this smoke starts surrounding me and I—" I paused when I saw the look of fascination on Douglass' face. That look of interest… and something darker. "No. No the power doesn't matter. That's not what I called you over to talk about. I want to know how to get rid of it."
Douglass' eyes widened in shock. "What? Get rid of it? But why? Surely having power means you should use it—"
"This power puts a target on your back!" I shouted back, startling the poor fresh spawn. I took a moment to keep my voice under control, not wanting to attract any attention—not from Mobs, but from the others. "I don't care about being unique. I don't care about being strong. I just want my life back the way it was. With me and Soul and Cobb and the only thing to worry about being how to survive until tomorrow. Not this!"
Douglass watched me warily as he turned and held a hand up before his face. It made me worried how he'd been talking about the Hacker power. He didn't understand the implications of it. That he would be feared his whole life if anyone knew the truth. That he may be hunted if Cobb ever told anyone about how Bounty Days worked.
Everything was in such uncertainty.
"What makes you think I would know how to get rid of it?" Douglass finally asked. "I only spawned in today. And I cannot even remember half the recipes I was taught. I can't fight with a sword, everybody is better than me…" He narrowed his eyes. "I come up short."
"I just want to know if anything happened to you in the Void." I asked, wanting to look for a connection to our Hacker lines. "There had to have been a reason for us to get these powers."
"Perhaps because we were destined for them?"
"Call it what you will: Destiny or a Curse." I dismissed. "Something we did or didn't do in the Void caused this. And figuring out what is all I'm interested in."
Douglass frowned before sadly shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Floyd. But I just don't know."
Just as the sun finally set, casting a darkness across the forest, so too did my painfully naïve thoughts plummet. I thought that Douglass would have the answers, or at least a way to find them.
But instead, I was left in the dark.
[Cobb]
"Oh! Hello, Cobb." Helena greeted as I entered her small house. It only had one room with hardly any furniture, but then again, what could a Testificate possibly need besides human companionship? "Are you teaching those fresh spawns some valuable lessons?"
"A few." I nodded. The Testificate was sitting at a small table at the back of the house. "It's nice to see this place hasn't changed much."
"I assume you're being sarcastic. You know very well nothing can be built or torn down within the Origin Zone." She rested her chin on her arms and leaned over the table. "But Herobrine and Notch did a great job designing it. It has everything I could ever need."
"So you don't ever get bored or lonely waiting here?" I asked as I took the chair across from her. "I mean, I know they told you to count Crafters, but haven't you ever wished to see the outside world? Even a little bit?"
Helena tiled her head to the side. "Mmmm, no." She decided. "I was given this job because it was an important responsibility. And I took it because I owed Herobrine and Notch for saving me and giving me a safe home." She leaned into her arms further. "After a while, it became less of a job and more of a routine. Until eventually, it became my life."
She smiled at me. "I'm Helena of the Origin Zone. And there's nobody that can do this job but me."
Her words, while honest, made me a little sad. No matter how I looked at it, she was trapped here. Tending a farm for other Crafters to eat from, living in a small house that would get stale after a month.
It wasn't a life I would have chosen. But, then again, maybe that was why she stuck with it. Maybe she wanted to live a sheltered life.
"Here. I got this back for you." I took out her book, How to Kill Stuff for Numb Nuts, and slid it across the table. She quickly snatched it up and held it close to her chest, breathing an audible sigh of relief.
"Thank you." She noticed how I saw her gesture. "I always feel a twinge of fear whenever I entrust this book to someone else. Even for just a short time." She hugged the book closer. "It's all I have left of him…"
"Did you know that that's an original copy?" I suddenly asked, causing the Testificate to raise half of her uni-brow in confusion. "That means Herobrine handled it himself before giving it to you. He must have trusted you a lot to do such a thing."
Helena blushed noticeably with a goofy smile on her face. "Well, he had good reason too. I was always volunteering to help him." She laughed. "He always tried to tell me to stay, saying he didn't want me to get hurt. But I'd always follow him. Sometimes I even purposefully put myself in danger, just so he'd rescue me."
"That sounds stupid and reckless." I deadpanned. "Even to a guy like me."
"Yeah, I was pretty messed up around him." She sighed before frowning. "You know… if I could have one wish…" She shook her head. "Ah… look at me talking about the past. I don't want to bore you."
"Actually…" I began, seeing it as the right time to ask, "I would like to hear about the past. I have some questions I've been meaning to ask you."
She looked intrigued. "What types of questions?"
"Well…" My hands fidgeted slightly. "For one, I want to know if you remember what my number was."
Helena scoffed. "That's it? Of course I remember your number. If anything it was one of the easier ones."
"Then what is it?"
She cleared her throat and sat up tall. "Number nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine-million nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine-thousand nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine." She spoke in one breath.
My eyes narrowed. "You sure about that?"
"Yes."
"You don't think you've made a mistake?"
"No."
"And you're positive about that?" I asked, wanting to triple check. "There's no way you miscounted or gave someone the same number—"
"I never miscount." She spoke with absolution. "Never."
"Then why," I began, leaning back in my chair, "when I registered my number—the number you'd given me—to one of the Kingdoms, they told me that that number had already been taken?"
"…Registry?" She questioned.
Ah, right. She didn't know about the Kingdoms so why would she be familiar with any registry. I explained to her the purpose of such organization and how it kept tabs on all Crafters. But as I kept explaining, she started to frown and simmer in anger.
"Well it sounds like they took my job!" She shrieked, slamming her fists onto the table. "Keeping track of Crafters and numbers. That's what I've been doing my whole life! And those pigs have the audacity to do it without even verifying with me? Or visiting the Origin Zone themselves!? What a bunch of slackers!"
She fumed to herself as her pride seemed to have taken a blow. I tried to mollify her, but I wanted to keep us on track.
"So what do you think about them saying the number you gave me was wrong?"
"Whoever did so was a liar… or incompetent." She amended with folded arms and a pleased smile. "Not everyone can be as infallible as I when it comes to counting Crafters." She looked at me seriously. "No two Crafters can have the same number, Cobb. In the same way that no two Crafters can have the same face, everyone is unique."
"So I'm not the Billionth?"
Helena nearly fell out of her chair. "W-what?" She faltered slightly.
I studied her face and her odd reaction. "I asked if I was the Billionth or not."
It was a fairly straightforward question and one that had plagued me since I got my number registered in the first place. Helena told me one thing, but then the registry told me another, forcing me to take the number one-billion or else get in legal trouble.
Even more troubling, the title of Billionth meant something to the Endward Cult—or at least 4Blite. He had tried to take me alive once he recognized my number. And then there were the Hackers, who, by now, had probably heard the great 'Legend of the Billionth' and would maybe want to kill me for killing one of their own. It was sort of up in the air.
If I wasn't the Billionth, I wanted to know now. Because not only was I taking attention away from the actual Billionth, but I was drawing attention to him too. And when you have the attention of some of the most evil Crafters of Minecraftia… that's bad!
Brain: Also, identity theft is no joke.
Brain: You said it… wait, that's not me!
"You're not the Billionth." Helena spoke harshly. "You are nine-hundred-and… you're a nine-digit Crafter with a number made up of nines!" She abbreviated for her own benefit. "Honestly, whatever gave you the idea that you're the B—that your number is one-billion?"
"It was the next nearest number available." I defended. "More importantly, why would anyone take my number? Actually," a better thought crossed my mind. "If not me, who is the one-billionth Crafter? What's his name?"
[Noman]
"It's Nowhere_Man. But Noman is easier."
At my introduction, the old man, Bailey, let out a hum. "Noman it is, then. As for me, you can call me Old Man Bailey." With a tanned and weathered hand, he set a bowl of that beetroot soup before me. My mouth watered at the sight of it, even if it was mostly liquid, but I restrained myself to taking slow mouth-fulls.
After storing Carrot in the stable, Old Man Bailey had led me into his farmhouse. It was all made of wood and the lighting was purely torches, but it had a very comforting atmosphere. There was a staircase right in front of the door that went to the second floor and there was a hallway that split into two rooms; the kitchen and a sort of living room.
As I ate quietly, I noticed Old Man Bailey store my diamond sword away in a chest. At the same time, I couldn't help but notice the stick he had at his belt. It didn't look enchanted at all, but he was ready to draw it at a moment's notice. He was still wary around me.
I, on the other hand, trusted him completely. If he wanted me dead, all he would have had to do was not feed me. He did the right thing, though. He was charitable, just like me. And that was reason enough for me to like him.
When I finished the first helping of soup, he refilled the bowl and gave me another, then another until I was pleasantly stuffed.
"Thank you for the meal." I nodded in thanks as I reached to my belt. Just as I was about to lift out some emeralds, I felt a sharp slap on my wrist that caused me to cry out. The emeralds tumbled to the floor, clattering like glass.
"Oh, I-I'm sorry!" The Old Man apologized as he awkwardly returned the stick he had slapped me with to his belt. "I thought you were… don't reach for your belt like that, son."
I rubbed the pain from my wrist. Darn, that stick had hurt. And he had smacked my arm so fast. "N-Not a problem. It was all my fault." I stooped down to pick up the emeralds I had dropped. "I was just going to repay you for your hosp—"
"Son, look at where I live." He gestured to his farmhouse in the middle of the mesa. "Where am I gonna spend emeralds out here?"
Once again, I was forced to concede his point. In that case…
"Then I'll work." Just like we had agreed. "I can start now, if you'd like. I don't want to be a burden to the man that saved my life."
He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Riiight… I wouldn't say I did that much."
"No, I definitely would have starved."
"Well, what are you doing traveling these parts without any food?" Old Man Bailey groused. "Game is scarce out on the mesa and so is quality soil. Everybody knows that."
"I'm… not from around here." I tried to explain. "I had been warned about the food issue, and I had brought enough, but then I was accosted by several traveling Crafters in desperate need of food. Naturally, I provided them with as much as I could spare—"
"Boy…" Old Man Bailey pressed a palm to his forehead. "Those Crafters would have also known about the food situation. I'd say they were playing the sympathy card just to take from your supplies. And you fell for it."
"…Oh." My head fell to stare at the floor. "I see…"
Yet again, I had been tricked by duplicitous Crafters. And to think I had felt good about helping them! The nerve of some people…
"Word of advice, boy." Bailey sat down across from me, this time with his own bowl of beetroot soup. "Around these parts, you need to grow some thicker skin. You worry about yourself, first, second, and third. If you give anyone an inch, they'll take a mile."
"Did you not allow me into your home, though? And feed me?"
"Er…" He faltered and I couldn't help but laugh. Then his eyes narrowed. "Just for that, you're cleaning out the latrine."
My laughs soon turned to quiet whimpers as I turned to take in the rest of his kitchen. It was then I saw an item frame by the window, displaying a picture of a dark-haired young man. "Who is that?"
"Nobody." Bailey replied without looking up from his soup. "Now, there's a spare bedroom upstairs you can use. Torches are the only light source, though. And I don't want you wandering around the place at night. You got it, boy?"
"Er… yes sir." I nodded.
"Good." Old Man Bailey finished his meal in peace before taking both of our empty bowls. "Since you're going to be helping me early tomorrow, I suggest you get some rest right away. We got a lot of work ahead of us."
I politely agreed and allowed Old Man Bailey to guide me to my bedroom. It was a tiny thing, with only a bed, a chest, and an armor stand covered in leather armor over in the corner.
"Let me just get that out of here for you." Bailey hastily made for the armor stand and broke the whole thing down before removing it from the room. "There. It's not much, but this isn't an Inn."
"It's plenty, thank you." I nodded as I sat on the bed, testing it out. It was comfortably springy. "And my sword…?"
"You'll get your sword back when you leave." He spoke low and threateningly. I had obviously said the wrong thing, and decided not to ask about it for the remainder of my stay.
"G-got it."
Old Man Bailey relaxed after how quickly I dropped the issue. And, seeing I was all set, he backed out of the room and closed the door.
I crashed onto the bed not two seconds later, removing all my armor and having the decency to store it in the bedside chest before I nodded off to sleep.
[Cobb]
"What's his name?"
"I… I don't know…" Helena glanced aside. "It… it was something… common…"
"You don't know?" I asked incredulously. "You just got done saying how awesome you were at this job. That you had the memory and nose of an elephant."
"Excuse me!?"
Oh, crap, that last bit was part of my thoughts. Abort! Abort! Initiate casual distraction!
I got out of my chair and rushed to open the door and shout out, "Soul! Get in here! I need your surly personality to offset this otherwise awkward situation!"
I waited for a second before I heard a distant, "Fuck off!"
"Come on! I'll give you food!" I hastily threw out an offer. "I know you're running low and that you don't want Helena's carrots!"
There was a silence, broken only by the sound of heavy footfalls as Soul rushed over to Helena's house. He stopped just short of the doorway.
"You got mutton?"
"Of course."
"…Okay, then." He stepped inside and I closed the door. Instantly, Soul adopted his most surly expression as he stood in the corner with folded arms, looking like a bigger edgelord than 4Blite. He ran a hand through his brown hair and looked at Helena. "I'm dark and misunderstood. Social butterflies cringe before me."
I knew there was a reason we kept Soul around. His surly angst had the desired effect, making Helena forget all about my comment about her nose. I tossed him a thing of cooked mutton, which he caught in his mouth like a dolphin. Dolphins do that, right?
"So anyway, Helena," I turned back to the Testificate. "You don't remember who the one-billionth Crafter is?"
"No—I mean…" Her eyes darted before returning with determination. "You're the second person to ask, and I'll tell you what I told him: It's none of your business."
"But… second? Who was the first?"
"4Blite."
I tensed up and I saw Soul do the same out of the corner of my eye. 4Blite had been asking about the one-billionth Crafter too? Why? What was so important about him?
But Helena hadn't told him anything. And yet, 4Blite recognized me as the Billionth. Was it possible that, after failing to find anything from her, he looked through my registration records? Was that it?
But then, that all came back to the original question of whether Helena made a mistake or not. A question I couldn't answer because she wouldn't even tell me who the real Billionth was!
"Agh! Helena, this isn't helping!" I snapped. "How can you expect us to believe one thing when you're telling us you can't prove it? Why can't you tell us who the Billionth is?"
She frowned with folded arms. "Because a certain someone wished for that information to be kept secret. All I can say is that you, King_Cobb, are not the Billionth. And if that answer doesn't satisfy you, I'm afraid this conversation is over."
I bit back my retort, realizing I still had questions to ask her. They were more pressing questions that burdened my conscious and I needed to get them off my chest.
"Alright." I leaned back in my chair. "I won't ask about the Billionth anymore. But just so you know, Helena," I slapped my Citizenship Information on the table. "The Kingdoms of Ringwood and Daymonte recognize me as the Billionth. And there's a lovely community called Halstatt that's singing praises of the ten-digit Crafter that saved their lives. So I'm not gonna go through the trouble of legally changing my number—because I can only imagine the lines I'd have to wait on and paperwork I'd have to fill out—just so I can give it to some nobody."
"It's Noman, actually."
"So I'm now and forever the Billionth. End of story." I finished with folded arms.
Helena frowned, but made no protest against my claim. "What other questions did you have?" She asked instead.
"Can you tell me about some Crafters?" I asked, leaning forward. "Not the Billionth, obviously, but there are some Crafters we met on the outside and we'd like to know a little more about them… if you can recall."
"I can recall plenty." She spoke curtly. "Though… it is rather intrusive."
Was it? I mean, it wasn't like I was asking for naked pictures of them. Just their numbers and maybe a little bit about them. Just enough to give me an idea of who they were, having not seen two of them.
I didn't expect the hesitation, though. Then again, I didn't really have expectations since the whole 'ask her about my enemies' thing just came to me thirty minutes ago. "C'mon, Helena. Please? You're the only one we can ask."
"While I'm flattered that you've come to me for help," Helena folded her arms, "I'm afraid I can't simply disclose information like that."
"But why?"
"Because I consider it rude." Helena defended. "Those Crafters are like my kids. I numbered them and got to know them. It feels like a betrayal of their trust to just gossip about them behind their backs. If I described your number and personality to anyone who asked, wouldn't you feel betrayed? I could be revealing you to a killer or a stalker, without even realizing it."
I groaned aloud, but couldn't really fault her for her reasoning. Discretion was important. Otherwise, some serial killer could just walk up to her and ask for victims with certain hair colors or eye colors and Helena would just list them out. And that extended to the Endward Cult too. They hunted around the Origin Zone, after all. If Helena was loose-lipped, she could reveal the direction in which the Crafters were traveling and lead the cultists right to them.
In that instance, maybe it was a good thing she didn't tell 4Blite about the Billionth.
Still, I wanted to know more about the cult's Lieutenants. And the only way was to convince Helena to tell me.
If only there was something I could bribe her with…
"Fine." I let out a forlorn sigh before reaching into my backpack. "I can see now that you are a Testificate of true integrity." I pulled out the item I was searching for and held it before her eyes. "And after I went through so much trouble getting this book for you. Herobrine really went all out with making this sequel."
Her tongue darted out to lick her lips.
"Yeeeep!" I exhaled, stretching out one arm while I waved the tome tantalizingly in front of her face. "Reading one of Herobrine's prized works was a real treat. It had so much useful information. I'd feel bad for any lover of Herobrine if they were not to read this. Wouldn't you say, Soul?"
"Yeah." Soul caught on. "Normally, we'd be all about letting Helena read it. Maybe even let her keep it." The Testificate's eyes followed the piece of literature, a bit of drool slipping out of her mouth. "But, then again, someone with her admirable level of integrity would probably see reading this as a breach of Herobrine's trust. Almost like reading his diary. A diary full of his innermost secrets and desires."
"No…" Helena simpered while reaching a hand out. "I can read it… we're good friends… really…"
"It wasn't easy." I continued as if I hadn't heard her. "It took weeks of research and searching that definitely, totally happened to find this priceless," I moved the book closer to her face before pulling back, "well-written," I repeated the action, noticing how she leaned forward in her chair, "and… um… uh…"
"…Beautiful tome filled with naked pictures—saucy, naked pictures—of Herobrine." Soul finished.
What!? I whipped my head to stare at him. Are you out of your mind!? That wasn't where I was going at all—
"I WANT IT!" Helena gasped eagerly as she latched onto the arm holding the book. "Please! A copy! A copy is all I ask and I'll tell you anything! ANYTHING! Just leave a copy, please!"
Her full weight latching to my arm brought the two of us crashing to the floor, all while Soul laughed like an asshole.
"Helena! Stop! Get off!" I protested, all while she made several lunges for the book kept barely out of her reach. "You'll get the book, but just—Wait!"
It took a few minutes to calm her down… and another few minutes for me to explain that Soul was lying about the naked pictures. Helena had been livid when she heard that, but she could do little to harm Soul. Not only would she have needed an Iron Golem around, but she would also need him to be outside the Origin Zone for him to be harmed in any way.
Despite the lack of… er… visual incentive, Helena was overjoyed to have another one of Herobrine's books. She ran her hands over it, as if to memorize the feel of aged leather and firmness, before she opened it up and began to read. Her eyes roved the pages with an insatiable hunger, especially at the beginning—the preface. Soul and I waited while she flipped through Advanced Mob-Slaying once, twice, three times…
It was around the tenth time that I cleared my throat to catch her attention.
"Hm? Oh, yeah!" She reluctantly put the book down before resting her hands atop it. "So… your questions?"
"Who's the Billionth?"
"Next question."
I sighed. I was hoping she would answer quickly while in a good mood. I should have realized she wouldn't fall for that.
Okay. Time to ask about the people of interest.
Thankfully, it was a short list. And it began with…
"4Blite." I started off. Soul leaned forward from his position in the corner. His look of interest was unmistakable. "What was he like? Both when you saw him for the first time and when last you met?"
I wanted to know for two reasons. First, asking about the Lieutenants we actually knew the names of could give us something on their personalities and behaviors. And from that, maybe something about their strengths or weaknesses could be learned. The second reason was more on a personal level. Call it morbid curiosity, but I wanted to know what those monsters had been like from the get-go. After all, if they decided on joining a cult of killers, they had to be verging on psychotic. I wanted to know just what kind of person would willingly join the Endward Cult.
"4Blite, eh? Number five-million three-hundred-and-fifty-four-thousand four-hundred-and-eighty." Helena closed her eyes. "He was… inquisitive. Ambitious. Strong. He didn't stay long. He wished to test his ability in the wild. Didn't even bother waiting for anybody. He went off on his own." She pursed her lips in thought. "When he returned, he was colder. Completely ignored the freshly spawned Crafters trying to converse with him. He just came up to me, asked a set of questions about the Billionth Crafter with a harsh, rude impatience. All I said was that he spawned, but that wasn't enough for him. He wanted to know appearances, behaviors, more personal stuff. When his rudeness reached a certain point, I told him to shove it." She shook her head. "That was when he got a little bit nicer, though. He offered to escort the freshly spawned Crafters to the nearest Kingdom. I hope they all made it safely."
"I'm… sure they did."
I felt a chill down my spine and I saw Soul clench his fist before looking away. Freshly spawned Crafters with an Endward Cult Lieutenant?
Helena didn't need to know that 4Blite probably killed them all.
"Moving on…" I tried to steady my voice, but Soul was there to pick up where I left off.
"Leadstripe." Soul asked next. "You remember him?"
So the axe-wielder had caught on to the persons of interest I was asking about. Floyd and Soul had told me that Leadstripe was the name of a Lieutenant that was sighted in a Western Kingdom called Dover Plains.
"Do I remember him?" Helena laughed. "Sure do. Seven-million eight-hundred-seventy-five-thousand one-hundred-and-eleven. Black baseball cap, right? He was a nice boy that got along well with the Crafters he spawned with. Smart, friendly, polite, helped teach the other Crafters about crafting recipes. They all chose to travel west."
Wait… what?
The direction was right—west like Dover Plains—but polite? Friendly? A nice boy?
"He was… nice?" Soul asked skeptically, mirroring my thoughts.
"Well, sure. Most Crafters are like that." Helena defended easily. It didn't look like she was lying. "He seemed like your average guy, maybe even a little above the norm in terms of kindness. He took to recipes and things faster than the others, but aside from that, nothing to stand out."
He sounded like just about anyone. Nothing particularly threatening or intimidating. Just a normal, regular guy.
Was it an act on his part? Or… or was it genuinely how he was?
Why did that scare me?
"Teal_Larkspur."
Soul didn't let the news of Leadstripe slow him down. It looked like Teal was the first person he wanted to ask about. Probably because she played his broken bones like a piano.
"Oh! Such a sweet, bubbly girl!" Helena gushed, her face brightening up instantly. "Number three-hundred-fifty-four-thousand three-hundred-and-twenty-three. Full of life, a thrill seeker, beautiful, open, and a delight to be around." Soul's mouth hung agape. "A tad exhausting in large doses, but she made tons of friends. She stayed a whole month before heading east with a group of guys. It feels like only yesterday I was watching her backflip off my roof to entertain the other Crafters."
Soul cocked his head to the side. "Really? A delight?" He rubbed his neck idly, remembering how Teal had snapped it. "I believe the bit about her being dangerous in large doses—"
"Exhausting in large doses, love."
"— But wasn't she a fighter or something like that?" Soul grasped for an excuse. "Her name seems very tough, so I just thought… yeah…"
Ah, yes. A shade of blue does sound quite tough.
Helena must have thought the same because she tilted her head. "I'm not sure what you mean. She was more dancer than fighter. The boys were quite enamored with her, let me tell you. They didn't seem to think her tough."
This wasn't making any sense. The direction she went was right, but I was getting two conflicting accounts about the same person.
Soul and Floyd had attested that the girl was crazy, insanely strong, insanely insane, and delighted in hunting down Crafters and twisting their emotions like putty.
But, according to Helena, she was extroverted, popular with the guys, and enjoyed entertaining others.
What kind of wormhole had she gone through to cause such a change!?
Or… was she always like that, deep down…
"That can't be right." Soul shook his head. "That can't be right. Helena, I met Teal recently—"
"Oh, you have? How was she? Did you two become friends?"
"If by 'become friends' you mean she paralyzed me and found me amusing enough to participate in her insane Survival Games where she would hunt me down and kill me, then yes." Helena looked aghast. "We were BFF's."
"What… what are you…?" She looked to me to deny Soul's words, but I shrugged helplessly. "No… that can't be. That girl was bright, spirited, and would never—"
"She killed one of my companions." Soul said.
Helena's words died on her lips and her head fell to stare at Herobrine's books laid before her. "But… how?"
Judging by her reaction, Teal's behavior change was as baffling to her as it was to us. Something drastic must have changed her from a cheerful soul to someone who delighted in death like it was some sick game.
It was the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear.
"Goddamnit!" I slammed a fist onto the table before my head fell into my other hand. "I wished I hadn't asked!"
Soul and Helena looked startled at my outburst. The axe-wielder moved to lay a hand on my shoulder. "What's with you? This information doesn't change anything. We still—"
I slapped his hand away. "It changes everything!"
My chest rose and fell as I got up from my seat and stormed over to the furnace. My hands were clenched into fists and I couldn't get Helena's words out of my head.
"This whole time, I've been wondering what kind of monsters it takes to lead the Endward Cult; to willingly command others to slaughter their own flesh and blood. I thought they would have to be inhuman to do something like that."
I let out a forced laugh. "Imagine my surprise when I'm told they were nice. That they were sweet. That they were just as average as anyone else. What the hell!?" I kicked out against the furnace. "I was expecting brutality and ruthlessness when they first spawned! I was expecting evil incarnate, not this!"
I leaned over the furnace, propping myself up with an elbow while I brought a hand up to my face. "We all started out the same. They could have been us. We could have been them. I mean," I whirled around to face Soul, "how can we justify fighting these guys if we're practically fighting ourselves!?"
"We aren't the same!" Soul denied venomously. "We fight to protect others from them. They chose to kill! We don't like it, but if it's to defend Minecraftia from them—"
"Who's the say which is us and which is them, Soul?" I interjected, waving an arm outside the door. "What about those fresh spawns we just trained? Are there any guarantees any of them won't join the cult? Are there any guarantees we won't have to kill them?"
"They wouldn't do that!" Soul shouted back, even if his voice wavered. "You saw them. They were—"
"Nice? Sweet?" I repeated, making his eyes widen. "Innocent? According to Helena, that means nothing."
Soul went quiet, apparently at a loss for words. Now he was beginning to see.
Everyone in Minecraftia started out the same. And yet, as innocent as we all once were, somehow, we had evolved into beings that fought one another.
The same could be said about Griefers and Hackers. Weren't they all spawned just like us? What made them monsters and us heroes? A bad experience? A good experience? Were we all just blank canvases waiting for something to push us one way or the other?
Could we still change? Could we experience something so bad that it could change us for the worst? Make us monsters.
What was the thing that kept us aligned against them?
"I… I don't know all the answers, Cobb." Soul finally settled on saying as he clutched a fistful of his hair. "Christ, you're making me nervous with all this talk about good and evil." He scrunched his eyes shut and gnashed his teeth. "I wish it was easy, too. I wish it was as fucking simple as men are good, women are evil, or some physical difference like that. Something obvious. Something I could see."
He let out a weary sigh. "But… life isn't simple like that. Life is hard." He looked up to face me. "I used to think I'd never forgive Floyd after he ran away… I thought I would hate him forever. But… things changed." He shook his head with a laugh. "I thought I would despise you because you were such a weak little shit. But that changed too."
"Gee, it's nice to know you always believed in me."
"But that's what I'm saying." Soul urged. "There is no always. There is no certainty. Things change. People change. We're not all one-dimensional beings. We go through trials, we evolve, and we get stronger and weaker. We change."
I remembered how Lenz and Wynn had first been towards me. They certainly changed. And I'd even say they got stronger because of it. And I changed too, thanks to them. I used to be alone, but after being with them, I learned how much I cherished them. I found the strength and will to do anything to protect them.
"People change." I repeated his words.
"Yeah. People change." He glanced away. "I don't like the idea of it… but Teal and Leadstripe were probably just like us before they changed too. Whatever they went through, it won them over to the Endward Cult. Anyone can be good or evil."
Soul looked up, his eyes blazing with determination. "But fuck that! We don't have to change like them at all! We can stay good, and we can fight them without shame. You know why?"
"…Why?"
"Because I think we were changed for the better."
His words struck a chord with me, making me remember all the things I had done. All the people I protected. Floyd. Wynn. Erin. Soul. Lenz. Halstatt. Ringwood.
Even something as small as sparing Hunderprest. It was the choices that were the hardest to make with the most risks that made me feel like the bigger person. That made me feel proud to have saved a life or a community or a friend or even an entire Kingdom.
And if the Hackers and Endward Cult took pleasure in destruction and death and causing pain to people…
Then I wasn't afraid to fight them.
I wasn't afraid to show them how wrong they were.
And maybe… maybe even change their minds if the opportunity arose.
"You're right, Soul." I nodded to the axe-wielder.
"Tch. Course I'm right." He folded his arms with a smug smile. "I always talk sense."
"Of course you do." I smiled. "Thanks for talking sense."
"No problem."
"If you two are done with your shouting match," Helena interrupted, pointing to the door, "we seem to have an audience."
Sure enough, as we turned to look at the door, we saw all the fresh spawns and Lenz peering at us. Some were crowded around the openings in the door while others were peeking from the windows. Either way, they had heard everything.
"…And that, my dear fresh spawns, is how you have a moving argument with someone." I covered up smoothly. "Resolution is optional, of course, but generally makes you feel fulfilled afterwards."
"Give it a rest, Cobb." Soul muttered. "They're not buying it—"
"I see." Guile and Gina rubbed their chins thoughtfully. "Another important lesson to impart. Thanks for that."
"And here I thought they were just having personal issues." Troy commented with a sigh. "Should have known it was another lesson."
Oh yeah. I am smooth.
Bladder: Like liquid butter.
"Hey, Lenz. Are you done making the maps?" I asked, to which the engineer shook his head.
"We need to wait until morning for the sugarcane to grow. But we should have everything ready by noon, tomorrow."
"That's a relief." Soul sighed as he plopped down on Helena's bed and snapped his fingers to me before pointing to his open, expectant mouth. I got the message and threw him another piece of mutton. "Mmmmutton-tastic. Anyway, where's Floyd?"
"We don't know." Wyatt answered. "Douglass went with him into the forest, last I checked. But neither one of them has returned."
"We're starting to worry monsters might have gotten them." Nance whimpered, glancing at the dark edge of the forest. "It's so dark; we don't want to venture out there."
"Hmm… maybe they ran into trouble." Soul picked himself up and stretched his arm. "Floyd's no push-over, but with Douglass to worry about, he might get distracted. I'll go out and look for him."
"Is that wise?" Lenz asked and a few fresh spawns nodded in agreement. "It is dark. What do you hope to find out there?"
"Mobs, probably." Soul shrugged while hefting his axe. "If he's in trouble though, I'm not gonna wait here. I'll holler if I need help."
And with that, the axe-wielder pushed past the fresh spawns and jogged over to where Wyatt said Floyd had gone.
As Lenz watched on, I turned back to Helena.
"So, I take it you're done with your questions?" Helena asked, her hand already reaching for Herobrine's book. "I can go back to reading?"
"Sure, y—actually…" A sudden thought came to mind. "There is one more name I'd like to ask you about."
Helena groaned, her hand leaving the book and falling to her side. "Fine. Which is it?"
"Alec_Bishop." I saw Lenz turn his attention to us at the name I had uttered. The Hacker I had killed in Halstatt.
"Alec… Alec…" Helena thought to herself before her eyes lit up. "Oh, Alec! Yeah, I remember him. Number six-hundred-and-fifty-seven-million two-hundred-and-thirty-seven-thousand. Sorry, usually I know numbers quicker than that, but he didn't leave much of an impression."
I let out a disappointed groan. "He was just another average guy, wasn't he?"
"That's not what I meant." Helena propped her chin up by her arm. "He didn't leave much of an impression because he didn't stay long. One minute he's talking with a group of fresh spawns, the next he's whisked away by some other guy."
…Other guy?
"What do you mean?" Lenz interjected. "Are you saying someone kidnapped him?"
"No, of course not!" Helena laughed with a wave. "Although it was as fast as a kidnapping, I'll tell ya." She joked around, even though I didn't find it funny. "No, what I mean is, Alec was approached by a Crafter shortly after spawning. Not a fresh spawn." She amended. "But he was someone who came around often enough. Every once and a while, he would show up, chat with a Crafter, and then the two would promptly leave. Alec was one of the many to be approached like that."
"And who was the Crafter that approached Alec?"
Helena frowned to herself. "Ugh… you know, he came by often enough, I really should remember his name. I believe it was…"
[Carys]
"Kalmarin."
The Hacker was pouring over a wanted poster—the one for Flawwed_Floyd—and I immediately knew what he was going to ask. It was bound to happen eventually, what with the obvious signs.
Still, I decided to act oblivious towards it. "What are you looking at?"
He shook his head as he smacked the wanted poster against his head. "I'm… having trouble believing this poster." He looked troubled as he turned to me. "Are you sure this guy is an Endward Cult Lieutenant?"
I kept my face calm. "Is there a reason he shouldn't be?"
"You know why." He sighed, tapping the lines over his eyes. "Hackers and cultists? They've never worked together. The Hackers treat Crafters like bugs, and I should know." He stared at the poster again. "And yet, for this guy to be working for the Cult as a Lieutenant to a non-Hacker…" He turned back to glance at me. "Don't you think it's a bit irregular?"
"Well, who knows?" I shrugged before gritting my teeth. "Maybe… King_Cobb… is a powerful… Crafter…" It physically hurt me to drag those words out, but drag them I did. As much as I wanted that pig-killer to die, wasting our resources on a personal vendetta was something the Paragons didn't need to know.
Kal looked back to the wanted poster, not catching how forced my words had been and not satisfied by them either. "This guy—Floyd—he must have spawned after I quit the Clan. I thought it would give the future Hackers a clean slate, but instead he went to join the Endward Cult. Talk about bad luck."
"Yes, well, we can discuss the possibility of the Hackers and cultists teaming up later." I quickly changed the subject. "I came here because I'm up for a spar. The test dummies aren't cutting it anymore. I want you to fight me with your Hacks."
Kalmarin shook his head, pocketing Floyd's wanted poster as he did. "I already told you I prefer not to use them. Especially when fighting an ally."
I smirked haughtily. "Ah, how could I forget? In that case, you can just fight me normally. I'm sure you won't be crushed."
"…You know I bet Anibal would rather spar with you."
I shook my head, my eyes never leaving his, while I smirked evilly. "Your choice. Hacks or not, I'm giving it my all."
Kal let out a small sigh before he readied his sword. To my disappointment, he didn't activate his Hacks.
Oh well. I thought as I twirled my scythe. Let's see if I can change that.
[Cobb]
"So you're saying this Giovanni showed up every so often, talked to Crafters that just spawned, and then took them away?" I asked, just to clarify.
Helena nodded. "Yes. And he would only take one or two Crafters at a time. Everyone else he would just ignore. He showed up a few more times after Alec, and there were large gaps between visits…" The Testificate frowned. "But then he stopped coming altogether. Sixty-one years ago. Haven't seen him since."
"Er… if I may ask…" Lenz stepped forward. "How many Crafters did Giovanni approach?"
"Oh, I'd say close to fifty."
"Hnk!" Lenz clutched his chest as if he were in pain. "F-f-fifty?"
"Yeah… but it wasn't unusual. In fact, before Giovanni, there were a few others that visited." My blood froze. "Hannah_Harper, Entity 303, Youssef_Dreadnought. They all were the same. They'd pick out a Crafter or two, talk to them, and them take them away. All in record time!" She laughed. "I don't know what they said to them to make them leave in a hurry, but whatever it was it must have been persuasive."
Lenz and I looked at each other, and even through his tinted glasses, I could tell we were thinking the same thing.
Giovanni had been a Hacker. A Hacker who had come to the Origin Zone suspiciously whenever Crafters like Alec spawned. But it wasn't as innocent as Helena thought it was. Giovanni had known Alec was a Hacker. He probably had known about all those other Crafters being Hackers too. He would only talk to them, and then 'convince' them to come with him. He had been recruiting them.
And by the sounds of it, there had been other Hackers visiting for the same reason. Was it a system? Did Hackers come whenever a new Hacker spawned in order to invite them to their cause? And why had they suddenly stopped showing up after Giovanni left?
"Was there anything strange about these Crafters?" I suddenly asked. "The Crafters Giovanni spoke with—any of the Crafters that were spoken with and taken. Did any of them have dark smoke coming off of them?"
Helena raised half of her uni-brow. "Are you asking me if they were smoking?"
"Yes!"
She was taken aback, but quickly recovered. "No, none of them were smoking. Though I did notice there was something that they all had in common. It struck me as odd the first time, but after seeing it over and over—"
"What was it!?" I demanded.
Helena frowned at my rudeness, but slowly brought a hand up to her eyes. She ghosted a finger over them.
"They had these weird dark lines over their eyes. Almost like make-up."
My breath caught in my throat, and I momentarily forgot how to breathe. Beside me, Lenz clutched the table for support as the news hit him like a sucker-punch. The fresh spawns asked if we were okay, but their voices were muted to me.
Brain: Holy shit…
Heart: Oh my god…
Brain: Holy shit…
Those lines… those lines that I had seen stretched across Alec's own eyes…
The same lines that I saw every time I looked at my first friend.
Helena's face lit up, oblivious to the bombshell she was dropping on us.
"Flawwed_Floyd had them too, in fact."
[Floyd]
"Who's there?" I asked, my sword held at the ready as I pointed towards a pair of rustling bushes. Douglass was quick to hide behind me.
I was expecting Zombies… or maybe even a cultist looking for fresh spawns to kill so close to the Origin.
Instead, I watched as a torch was placed down and a figure was illuminated before my eyes.
"Don't worry, brothers." The figure spoke calmly, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender and his head angled down so that his hair obscured his face. "I mean you no harm."
I narrowed my eyes at the way he addressed us. Then my eyes widened in fear. Did he overhear that we were Hackers? "You… did you hear any of what we just said? Answer me!"
"There's no need for violence, brothers." He slowly lifted his face and looked at me with an honest smile and serene eyes.
Eyes that mirrored mine and Douglass'. Eyes that made me drop my sword in shock.
The eyes of a Hacker.
Inventory (Cobb): 1 Fishing Rod {Backlash} [Knockback II, Luck of the Sea III, Unbreaking III], 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Stone Sword, 1 Golden Shovel [Silk Touch I, Unbreaking III], 1 Flint and Steel {Weak}, 13 Cobblestone, 2 Ender Pearls, 12 Torches, 5 Coal, 2 Oak Wood Planks, 1 Stick, 1 Crafting Table, 1 Clock, 1 Bucket, 4 String, 40 Steak, 60 Cooked Mutton, 50 Baked Potatoes, 1 Pumpkin, 1 Leather Tunic [Dyed Green, Unbreaking I], 1 Iron Leggings {Weak}, 1 Iron Boots, 40 Emeralds, 1 Map {Ringwood Region}, 1 Book {How to Kill Stuff for Numb Nuts}, 1 Book {Advanced Mob-Slaying}, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Ringwood Entry Pass}
[EXP: 19]
Inventory (Floyd): 1 Iron Pickaxe {Weak}, 1 Iron Sword, 3 Iron Ingots, 1 Fishing Rod, 1 Furnace, 1 Crafting Table, 1 Minecart, 1 Bed, 1 Boat, 1 Potion of Fire Resistance {8:00}, 2 Flint, 8 Rotten Flesh, 6 Gunpowder, 27 Cooked Chicken, 32 Apples, 3 Wool, 1 Iron Leggings, 1 Iron Boots {Weak}, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}, 4 Emeralds
[EXP: 25]
Inventory (Lenz): 1 Bow {Weak}, 1 Shears, 2 Levers, 1 Flint and Steel, 1 Stone Button, 5 Redstone Torches, 9 Redstone Repeaters, 3 Redstone Comparators, 15 Redstone, 1 Hopper, 5 Pistons, 21 Cobblestone, 25 Dirt, 1 Minecart, 6 Compasses, 25 Gunpowder, 42 Steak, 1 Leather Cap [Dyed Green], 13 Arrows, 20 Wooden Planks, 1 Crafting Table, 1 Pumpkin, 39 Paper, 6 Ink Sacs, 4 Leather, 14 Feathers, 10 Flint, 64 Emeralds, 14 Emeralds, 1 Iron Ingot, 1 Book {Airship Piloting 101}, 1 Book {Notebook}, 1 Book {How to Kill Stuff for Numb Nuts}, 1 Book {Advanced Mob-Slaying}, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Daymonte Entry Pass}, 1 Paper {Ringwood Entry Pass}
[EXP: 8]
Inventory (Soul): 1 Iron Axe, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Stone Pickaxe {Weak}, 2 Ender Pearls, 1 Splash Potion of Healing II, 1 Splash Potion of Healing II, 1 Splash Potion of Healing II, 1 Potion of Invisibility {8:00}, 1 Potion of Invisibility {8:00}, 1 Splash Potion of Slowness {1:30}, 1 Splash Potion of Weakness {1:30}, 1 Milk, 1 Iron Helmet {Weak}, 1 Iron Chestplate, 1 Iron Leggings, 1 Iron Boots, 1 Crafting Table, 1 Furnace, 5 Dirt, 64 Cobblestone, 10 Coal, 7 Oak Wood Planks, 9 Emeralds, 18 Cooked Chicken, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Map {Ringwood Region}, 1 Paper {Ringwood Entry Pass}
[EXP: 38]
Inventory (Noman): 1 Diamond Chestplate {Severe Shield}, 1 Shield, 1 Bow [Infinity], 34 Birch Wood Planks, 35 Iron Ingots, 19 Sticks, 13 Torches, 1 Bucket, 1 Crafting Table, 1 Birch Fence, 1 Bed, 1 Book {Notch Mission II}, 1 Book {Artifact List}, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Ringwood Entry Pass}, 1 Paper {Dover Plains Entry Pass}, 1 Map {Dover Plains}, 1 Map {Mesa}, 1 Compass, 64 Arrows, 2 Glass Bottles, 2 Sugar, 7 Enchanted Golden Apples, 1 Diamond Helmet, 1 Leather Tunic [Dyed Blue] {Weak}, 1 Diamond Leggings, 1 Diamond Boots, 64 Emeralds, 64 Emeralds, 64 Emeralds, 64 Emeralds, 22 Emeralds, 2 Bones, 14 Rotten Flesh
[EXP: 7]
Carrot the Horse
AN: Whelp, cat's out of the bag.
Helena finally got another Herobrine book, which to her is what Fifty Shades of Chicken was to so many faithful readers.
Not only does Cobb learn about his enemies, but he also learns about his allies. And he can't quite understand how people so good and so bad could have come from the same place. Then again, aren't we all born as innocent babies? It could sort of be applied to real life. Even the most terrible of monsters could have been just like you.
Also, we learn a bit more about Hackers and how Kalmarin fits into it all.
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