Copyright

First published in the USA by HarperCollins Publishers Inc in 2015

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books 2015

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers

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London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright © 2015 by Sean Fay Wolfe

Cover art © 2015 by Max Gonzalez

Design by Victor Joseph Ochoa

Sean Fay Wolfe asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008152833

Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780008152840

Version: 2015-10-16

Dedication

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

PROLOGUE

PART I: THE NOCTEM ALLIANCE

CHAPTER 1: The Second Election

CHAPTER 2: The Voice in the Night

CHAPTER 3: The Spleef Quarterfinals

CHAPTER 4: Viva La Noctem

CHAPTER 5: The Tennis Machine

CHAPTER 6: Elementia Day

PART II: THE DEVILS WITHIN THE WALLS

CHAPTER 7: The Coup

CHAPTER 8: Tensions

CHAPTER 9: The Battle of the Base

CHAPTER 10: The Villager’s Visit

CHAPTER 11: Home Again

CHAPTER 12: Clash of the Saviours

CHAPTER 13: The Nation of the Noctem Alliance

CHAPTER 14: The Spleef Semifinals

CHAPTER 15: The Labyrinth

CHAPTER 16: The Leak

CHAPTER 17: The Prisoner of Brimstone

CHAPTER 18: The Warnings

CHAPTER 19: The Spleef World Finals

PART III: NIGHTFALL

CHAPTER 20: An Emergency Meeting

CHAPTER 21: Return to the Village

CHAPTER 22: The Decisions

CHAPTER 23: The Battle of the Archipelago

CHAPTER 24: The Elementia Sea Base

CHAPTER 25: The Two Tribes

CHAPTER 26: The Greater Mushroom Island

CHAPTER 27: The Traitors

CHAPTER 28: Atop Mount Fungarus

CHAPTER 29: The Hostages

CHAPTER 30: Lord Tenebris

The Quest Continues …

From the Author

Acknowledgements

About the Author

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

Leonidas gritted his teeth and shook off his discomfort. Having been raised in the desert, he was foreign to the frigid wind and snow that now racked his body with shivers. He resented that, of the three generals of the Noctem Army, Lord Tenebris had assigned him to oversee the construction of the tundra base. Leonidas turned and looked at the marvellous stone complex rising from the snow-hardened earth. He couldn’t help but take a little pride in the fact that the Noctem Alliance’s first true base was now in its last phases of construction.

It dawned on Leonidas that it was probably time for another patrol. He pulled out his watch to confirm this. He had to squint to see the golden clockface through the heavy snowfall, but he could still make out the time as midday. It was time to send two of his ten men out to circumnavigate the construction zone, searching for trespassers. Leonidas found these patrols to be pointless. They were in the middle of the most expansive and desolate biome on the server, so the chances that anybody would run into them out here were slim to none. However, on Caesar’s last inspection of the base, he had made it very plain to Leonidas that Lord Tenebris felt the perimeter patrols were vital.

Ever since it had been founded on Spawnpoint Hill, the New Order had gathered almost a hundred and fifty followers, and had since been renamed the Noctem Alliance. Lord Tenebris, however, remained in a foul mood. He refused to let go of his anger that Element City had been so successful since King Kev had fallen. He had expected the city to struggle to support itself under the rule of Stan2012. However, Element City was now thriving to a level not experienced since the Golden Age of King Kev’s rule, and Stan had only been president for a few months. Tomorrow was the day of the second election of the Republic of Elementia, and Stan was expected to win in a landslide.

Given Lord Tenebris’s foul mood, Leonidas reasoned that his own head would be on the chopping block if Lord Tenebris somehow found out he had missed a patrol. Therefore, Leonidas called out to the two nearest workers, “Corporal! Private! Get over here!”

Immediately, Corporal Emerick and Private Spyro pocketed the stone bricks they were building with and hastily hustled over to Leonidas.

“Yes, sir, General Leonidas,” the two soldiers responded in full salute.

“It’s twelve hundred hours now, and it’s time for the midday perimeter check. Ya know what to do,” said Leonidas.

“Sir, yes, sir!” said the players. They spun on their heels, drew their bows and arrows, and marched off until they disappeared into the heavy snowfall.

Leonidas sighed. With two players gone, work would be slower for the next hour. He turned back towards the construction, about to continue his work, when something caught his eye. There, approaching from the general direction that Emerick and Spyro had just disappeared, a light flickered through the snowfall, getting brighter and brighter. Leonidas briefly wondered if one of his men was coming back, but he quickly realized that this was neither the corporal nor the private. A figure adorned in flowing white robes came into view, a jack-o’-lantern clutched in his hands.

“I need food, Leonidas,” came Caesar’s battered voice, breathing heavily from his long trek through the barren plains. Leonidas was taken aback, seeing his comrade and equal-in-command here when Caesar was supposed to be catering to the personal needs of Lord Tenebris. He pulled two pieces of bread from his inventory and quickly handed them to Caesar.

“What brings ya here, Caesar?” asked Leonidas, showing Caesar into the modest dirt-block shack, lit by torchlight. The structure served as Leonidas’s personal quarters during the construction of the new capital. “I thought Lord Tenebris told ya to stay with him, and help with whatever he needed.”

“He did, and I am,” replied Caesar. Even through his mouthful of bread, his upper-class Element City accent was prominent. “Lord Tenebris is displeased that he has not received word of the completion of Nocturia. He wishes to know why you have not completed our new capital yet, and how long it will be before it is completed. He has sent me to ask you this.”

Leonidas sighed. “Don’t actually say this to Lord Tenebris, Caesar, but if it weren’t for these stupid perimeter patrols, we would have completed the capital a week ago. With only ten guys workin’ on construction, the patrols really slow down the work.”

Caesar gave a slow, emotionless nod.

Leonidas finished his report. “Nevertheless, we’ve entered the final phases of the construction of Nocturia. We should be done by the end of tomorrow.”

“Now, that is what Lord Tenebris will want to hear,” replied Caesar, standing up. “I shall give him the report.”

“Do ya really have to leave so soon?” asked Leonidas. Since all the players out here were subordinate to him, Leonidas found himself with nobody to talk to, and he was truthfully becoming a little lonely. “Can’t ya stay for at least a little while?”

“No, I’m sorry, Leonidas. Lord Tenebris made it very clear that I am supposed to survey the premises hastily and report back to him, no delays. Otherwise, I would be quite content to stay, but you know how Lord Tenebris is when he gets angry.”

In fact, Leonidas had never seen Lord Tenebris angry. The one and only time he had seen Lord Tenebris was on Spawnpoint Hill, the night they had lost to the Grand Adorian Militia in battle. On that day, desperate and with nothing to lose, Leonidas, Caesar and Minotaurus had pledged themselves to a new leader. Since that day, Lord Tenebris had ordered Leonidas to build the Noctem Alliance’s capital city of Nocturia out here in the Southern Tundra Biome. His only contact with the founder of the Noctem Alliance since then had been through messengers.

Leonidas rarely saw his fellow generals. Lord Tenebris had ordered Caesar to act as his own personal adviser and servant, and what he had ordered Minotaurus to do, Leonidas could only guess. Regardless, Leonidas was well aware of what Lord Tenebris was capable of, and he did not imagine he would be very agreeable when angry.

“Then have a good return trip, Caesar,” Leonidas responded, handing his friend three cooked pork chops for the hike back to Lord Tenebris’s base. Caesar nodded his thanks, and was about to exit through the wooden door when three players burst into the dirt shack.

The three players were covered in snow, so it took Leonidas a moment to distinguish two of them as Corporal Emerick and Private Spyro. They had their bows raised and were nudging a third figure forwards. This player, Leonidas did not recognize. It appeared to be a girl, dressed in a full snowsuit with a red ponytail running down her back. The moment she entered the building, she fell to her knees, overwhelmed with fatigue. Leonidas stood up.

“Who is this?” he asked his corporal harshly.

“We found this player wandering around, not far from our border, General,” replied the corporal. He seemed quite proud that he had led the effort of capturing a trespasser.

“What’s your name?” Leonidas asked.

The girl seemed unable to respond. She whimpered. It was then that Leonidas noticed the arrow protruding from her left shoulder. One of his men had shot her.

“Answer him, you pathetic worm. He asked you a question!” bellowed Caesar, and all in the vicinity jumped from his sudden outburst. “What are you doing here?”

The girl gave an almost inaudible whisper, and Leonidas thought he heard the words “lost” and “community” in her answer.

“So there’s a community out here? Where? I thought the colony of the King’s banished criminals died out a long time ago,” inquired Leonidas.

Another dubious whimper escaped the girl’s mouth, and Leonidas heard the word “survived” in her response.

“So the community still exists? And you are a member of this community?” Caesar asked gruffly.

The girl, still kneeling and unable to stand, gave an almost imperceptible nod before her head sank to the floor and she dissolved into desperate sobs.

“That’s all I needed to know,” responded Caesar with a sly grin. An instant later, there was a flash of diamond. The girl fell backwards, a slash across her chest and her items lying in a ring around her. Caesar slid his sword back into its sheath.

Leonidas opened his mouth in horror, but quickly closed it again. It was necessary, he reminded himself, trying to keep his breathing steady. She knew too much, and she was a danger. Still, Leonidas couldn’t bring himself to look at her body, and he felt unable to look back towards Caesar until he heard the faint noise indicating that the girl had vanished.

“I’ll tell Lord Tenebris not to expect the capital completed for a few more days,” said Caesar, a smile appearing on his face. “But when I receive the next report, I expect that not only will the building be finished, but every member of the old community will be dead.”

Caesar threw back his head and laughed, and before Leonidas could open his mouth to object, he had swept out the door.

Leonidas stood looking at the floor for a moment, then realized that Corporal Emerick and Private Spyro were still looking at him, waiting for a command. He cleared his throat and, trying to keep his voice steady, gave the order.

“Private, you’re stayin’ with me and finishin’ this capital. Corporal” – Leonidas took a deep breath – “take half the men and find the village. Leave no survivors.”

“Yes, sir,” came Corporal Emerick’s response, and he left the room without another word.

There was silence as Leonidas stood in the room lost in thought, Private Spyro standing beside him. After a minute, the private spoke. “Is it really the right thing to do, General? Those players, they’re not hurting anybody, so how can it be right?”

Leonidas, ignoring his own strongly conflicted feelings, gave Spyro the response he was supposed to give. “It doesn’t matter if it’s right or not, Private, it’s what has to be done.” Leonidas let out a raspy sigh and fought the urge to vomit. “Come on,” he said, “we have a base to finish.”

And with that, General Leonidas and Private Spyro of the Noctem Alliance left the dirt shack.

CHAPTER 1
THE SECOND ELECTION

Stan knew that technically, this was Elementia’s first real election for president. There had not really been a vote when he first became president. Everybody had been so euphoric at the downfall of King Kev that they had immediately wanted the one responsible for their freedom to be the new head of the Minecraft server Elementia.

Now, however, it was time for Elementia’s first true presidential election. The entire voting population was crammed into the square of Element City. Over three months ago, King Kev had stood above this very courtyard and made the announcement that it was time for the lower-level citizens of Elementia to leave Element City. Stan’s all-consuming rage at King Kev’s proclamation and the arrow he’d sent at the King to show it were the reasons he stood on the bridge of Element Castle now.

That fateful arrow had started an uprising among the lower-level players of the Minecraft server Elementia, and their rebellion had resulted in the death of the tyrannical King Kev. The majority of the King’s supporters were now dead or imprisoned, with the rest living as fugitives of the law. In their joy at the fall of the evil King, the citizens of Elementia were quick to jump on Stan’s idea of Elementia being turned into a republic. Stan was unanimously elected to be its first president.

Now, however, his first term was up. He had been president for four months, and it was time for another election. The councilmen, who assisted Stan in making the laws of Elementia, had already been elected. Stan’s good friends Kat, Charlie, Jayden, Archie, Goldman (aka G), DZ and the Mechanist had all been unanimously re-elected to the council.

The eighth seat on the council, however, was now filled by the former mayor of Blackstone, Gobbleguy. The seat’s previous holder, Blackraven, was running against Stan for president of Elementia. The majority of the players believed that Blackraven had been stupid to give up his seat on the council, as they believed there was nothing he could ever say or do to convince them to elect him to office over Stan.

Stan, however, felt Blackraven was a formidable opponent. He believed Blackraven was wiser than he was. If Blackraven played his cards right, Stan thought that his seat as president of Elementia may well be in jeopardy. This idea made him nervous as he sat on the bridge of Element Castle, preparing to give one last speech to his people before they voted.

Stan and Blackraven would both be asked five questions. These five questions, dealing with the most important problems in Elementia, would be Stan’s last chance to assure the population that he was the right player to continue leading them.

Stan’s stomach was in knots as he was called to step forwards and begin to speak. As he walked out onto the bridge of Element Castle, the crowd received him with hoots and cheers. Stan’s anxiety vanished. There was nothing to be nervous about, he realized. As long as he answered the questions honestly, he believed that the people of Elementia would agree with him.

The first question rang out, echoing around the spacious courtyard. “Stan2012, if elected president, how do you intend to handle the diamond shortage we have in Elementia right now?”

Stan, whose views on this matter were firm, responded confidently. “I know that diamonds are a very important resource for creating the best gear possible. However, I don’t think that diamonds are nearly as important as iron ore, which is way more common and equally useful. Right now, we don’t have access to a good diamond mine. If we find one, then Elementia will have more diamonds to go around. Right now, though, I think that we’re much better off mining more iron ore, rather than searching for diamonds.”

There was general applause as Stan finished. Although the players of Element City certainly did like their diamonds, they felt that Stan had a very reasonable view of the issue. As the applause died down, the next question sounded out.

“Stan2012, if elected president, how do you intend to fulfil Elementia’s coal needs now that the mines of Blackstone have been declared unsafe?”

Stan smiled. One of his most recent acts as president had been to close down the coal mines in the mining town of Blackstone after inspecting them firsthand. He had found that the entire mining system was situated around an underground lava lake. Though he was quite happy with the decision, one of the biggest concerns was how Elementia was going to keep up with the ever-present demand for coal after the city’s reserves ran out. Stan now, once again, shared his plans to resolve this issue.

“Well, let me first say that I have no regrets whatsoever in declaring the mines of Blackstone unsafe. The safety of our miners is much more important than any coal that we may find. However, because we do need coal to fuel our ever-growing population, let me tell you about a new opportunity that has come to light. Councilman Charlie has recently started exploring the Southeastern Mountain Range, trying to establish an Elementian outpost in the far reaches of the server. During his exploration, he found extensive coal veins inside and beneath the mountains. It would not be difficult to extend the Blackstone railway to reach these mountains. We’re currently putting together plans to do just that, and so I see plenty of coal in Elementia’s future, even without Blackstone.”

The applause for this response outstripped the last round by a mile. Stan had received praises for closing Blackstone and for supporting exploration of the Southeastern Mountain Range.

“What are your thoughts on the recent ideas of taxing the NPC villagers, now that they can grow carrots and potatoes?”

“Oh, no way!” cried Stan. “I will never put any sort of tax or quotas on the NPC villagers! I’ve lived with the villagers before, but they typically just want to be left alone. I do think that we should get carrots and potatoes from the NPC villagers, but we should do this by offering them a fair trade. We know how to grow crops. If we trade with the NPCs, they’ll be happy, and we’ll have our own carrots and potatoes to grow. If we’re honest with ourselves, we know that we’re smarter and more powerful than they are, so it’s our responsibility to make sure that nothing bad happens to them. We certainly can’t put taxes on them!”

There was healthy applause for this statement. Almost none of the citizens of Elementia understood NPC villagers the way that Stan did, and they knew that. All they saw was that Stan was trying to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves.

“Stan2012, what are your thoughts on the emerging organization calling itself the Noctem Alliance?”

In the past month, there had been a growing number of protest rallies in Element City staged by members of a group called the Noctem Alliance. Despite the fall of King Kev, they still believed that the lower-level players of Minecraft didn’t deserve the same basic rights as the older, upper-level players.

“The Noctem Alliance is, as of right now, just a protesters’ group, so I have no control over them,” Stan said calmly. “Everyone is free to voice their own opinions, regardless of how I, or anybody else, might feel about it. However, I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on them. Any group that threatens the equality of the players of Elementia won’t be tolerated. The Noctem Alliance can say what they want, I won’t stop them, as much as I disagree with them. However, if the Alliance acts on any of their views, there will be no hesitation in putting the group to rest.”

The applause shook the courtyard. Although all present were aware that Stan was vehemently opposed to the views presented by the Noctem Alliance, it was encouraging to know he believed in their laws to a point where he would not actively stop the Alliance unless they took action.

“Stan2012, here is your last question: What are your thoughts on tracking down and neutralizing any of King Kev’s remaining allies?”

“Well, I think my thoughts on that should be pretty obvious,” replied Stan with a chuckle, and a charged laughter rippled through the audience.

“I don’t know where King Kev’s remaining supporters are, or what they are doing. Our army has devoted almost half its resources to catching any of King Kev’s followers who are still out there. I think that we are giving all that we possibly can to the search right now, but I’m ready to send more soldiers out if the traitors don’t reveal themselves soon. Rest assured, however, as long as I am your president, there is no danger in Element City from King Kev’s supporters.”

The applause the crowd was barely holding back now surged forwards as they sang the praises of their president who they fully trusted to keep them safe and happy. Stan was elated. The applause was still strong as he left the platform and entered the side tower to watch Blackraven’s interview.

Blackraven had always had somewhat different views from Stan. Personally, Stan believed that Blackraven was in favour of putting resources where they were not necessary, and taking them from where they were. Although Blackraven did have a following among the citizens of Elementia, it paled in comparison to Stan’s.

One thing Stan gave Blackraven credit for was that, although Stan may not agree with them all, Blackraven was firm in his beliefs, and he made that plain. Respectable a quality as that may be, Stan still did not feel that Blackraven should have run for president. Blackraven had had to give up his seat on the Council of Eight to do so, and he almost certainly would lose, as very few players agreed with his ideas.

For example, Blackraven believed that investing resources in diamond mining was of supreme importance, even if that meant less effort went into looking for King Kev’s remaining followers. He also believed that people with similar views should band together into political parties. This was unsettling, as the shady Noctem Alliance wanted to become a political party. Perhaps the view that Stan most disagreed with was that since the NPC villagers lived on the Elementia server, they should pay taxes the same as the players.

After Blackraven finished answering his questions, he walked over to sit next to Stan as the polite applause died down. Stan turned to wish Blackraven luck, but a pensive look had crossed the old player’s yellow-and-black-feathered face, so Stan looked away. Instead, he looked out the window of the tower at the voting machine.

The machine was an ingenious contraption of the Mechanist’s design. One by one, the citizens of Elementia lined up and walked into a room, inside of which there were two buttons: one to vote for Stan, and one to vote for Blackraven. Press a button, and pistons ejected you gently from the room, and the door opened for the next voter.

By the time the sun was setting, the last voter had entered the booth. As the door swung shut for the last time, there was a moment of silence as one of the officials checked the records of the voting within the machine. Then, a frizz of white hair appeared on a platform atop the machine as the Mechanist climbed up and read the redstone circuitry that sat before him. Stan saw him give a slight nod and a tiny smile before turning to address the crowd.

“The votes are all in,” the Mechanist announced, his Texan accent deep and pronounced. “The winner of the election for president of the Grand Republic of Elementia is Stan2012, for his second term!”

Stan tried to look dignified, but he couldn’t stop the uncontrollable grin that had spread over his face. Blackraven didn’t seem to mind, though. He offered Stan congratulations, which Stan returned, shaking Blackraven’s hand for good measure. As Blackraven headed down the stairs to leave the castle, Stan looked over the bridge to tumultuous applause.

“Thank you, citizens of Elementia! Together, we will make this server the best place that it can be! Thank you for giving me the chance to continue to prove myself to you! It is my job to serve you, so I hope that you find yourselves happy, healthy and safe under my leadership. Good night, and thank you again!”

The applause shook the ground beneath his feet as Stan walked back into the tower. He was quite content that he was president once again, but he felt exhausted, and was eager to finally get some sleep.

CHAPTER 2
THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT

Stan could not deny that he was very happy he had been re-elected, but right now, he could not hide his annoyance. He had explicitly told the guards of the castle that he would talk to anybody who needed him the next day, but not tonight. Yet he had still been woken up four times, by DZ, Kat, Charlie, and DZ again. His friends only wanted to congratulate him, but Stan was far too tired to appreciate it. Stan ordered the guard firmly to tell everybody to leave him be for the rest of the night, and slammed the door irritably.

Stan got back into bed, glad that the campaign was over and that he could now get some real sleep for the first time in days. He pulled the covers up, closed his eyes, and was about to fall asleep when a faint voice caught his ear.

“Stan … hey, Stan, are you awake?”

“Whoever you are, GO AWAY!” barked Stan, hiding his head under his pillow in his angst.

“Oh, OK then. I thought that you’d be rather happy to hear my voice again, noob, but if you’d rather sleep, I get it …”

Suddenly, Stan was wide awake. He glanced wildly around the room, daring to hope that it could really be true, that the voice could really be that of …

“Sally?” Stan asked tentatively.

“Yeeeees?” came the sarcastic, smirky voice.

“Oh my God. It’s you!” cried Stan, his eyes brightening in delight. “You’re alive! But how … where are …”

“No, you idiot! I’m not alive, Minotaurus cut me open with an axe, remember?”

“But … wait a second …” said Stan, his elation suddenly shifting to a sudden-onset headache. “If you’re … but then … Sal, how are you talking to me if you’re dead?”

“Well,” came Sally’s voice, the source of which Stan still could not distinguish, “ever since I died, I’ve been trying to find ways to get back onto the server. I’ve gotta hand it to King Kev, he really did his research. I’ve tried every method of rejoining, of hacking my way in, of bypassing the blacklist … you know, the list of people who have been banned from Elementia. But what you hear now is the closest I’ve been able to get.”

“So … can you see me?” asked Stan.

“Yeah, I see you,” she replied. “It’s weird, my view of you keeps shifting around the room, though, and I have to really focus on you to keep my sight there. Frankly, you’re not too much to look at, so I think you owe me an apology there.”

Stan chuckled. “Well, death hasn’t changed you much, Sally. Is this the first time that you’ve managed to do this … this … well, whatever this is?”

“No,” Sally said. “I’ve been able to do this for about the past week or so, and it’s so strange, I really don’t have that much control over where I get to see. It’s like I see flashes of things that are happening all over Elementia. Sometimes I see trees in the forest, or pigs in the plains, or buildings in the city. Anyway, if I don’t focus on what I’m seeing really hard, I lose the connection.”

“That is weird,” said Stan, thinking about what might cause this but drawing a blank. “So, have you talked to anybody else?”

“No, frankly, most people are too boring to focus on,” replied Sally, and Stan could almost see the sarcastic simper on her face. “I just happened to have the luck of teleporting directly into your bedroom. By the way, it was cute when DZ tried to come in twice to congratulate you. And also, congrats, Mr Two-Term President. Not bad for a noob who can’t even flop down onto a pillow correctly.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Stan whined, but he was laughing. Even though he couldn’t see Sally, this was as close to old times as he could possibly get.

“No,” replied Sally simply, and Stan chuckled some more, but when Sally spoke again, her voice was as serious as Stan had ever heard it. “Actually, there is something important I have to tell you. I saw Caesar and Leonidas.”

Stan’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you saw those two? Leonidas is alive?” he asked in shock.

Sally grimly continued. “Yeah. One time, I tried to join, and I went to this place I didn’t recognize. It was really dark, and I could barely see anything, but Caesar and Leonidas were there. They were saying something I couldn’t hear to a big group of guys that seemed to be listening to them. I tried to focus in, but I lost the connection.”

“So they had people with them? How many, Sally?” asked Stan, panic creeping into his voice as he began to contemplate the possibilities of what this development could mean.

“There were probably about twenty-five, total. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like Caesar was giving some sort of speech, and they were cheering for him.”

Stan gulped, sweat breaking out. “So … does that mean … that Caesar and Leonidas are gathering followers? What about Minotaurus, was he there? Did they have weapons?” Stan was talking very fast now, panic rising in his throat. “What were they doing there, Sally? Can you tell me anything else?”

“I don’t … oh, wait … oh, no …” Sally’s response was suddenly punctuated by static, like a radio signal was being jammed. “I’m … losing the con … the connection, Stan … I’ve got … got to go …”

“No, Sally! Don’t go!” Stan was on edge now. With his fatigue, the knowledge of an organization headed by Caesar, and finding out that Sally could still speak to him, Stan was in a very unstable state. He was desperate to find solace in the now fading voice of Sally.

“Go … go to sleep now … Stan, you’re exhausted … be careful … I promise, I’ll contact … contact you again … again very soon …”

And then there was a static crackle, and the voice ceased. Overwhelmed with exhaustion and despair, Stan gave a moan of dejection and passed out on his bed.

“I’m telling you, it was the weirdest thing!” said Stan, pulling back the ceremonial presidential gold helmet to wipe away the sweat accumulating on his brow. All the councilmen and the president were required to wear them around the town, and they were the only ones by law allowed to do so. They were also each equipped with a golden weapon of their choice, for the sake of ceremony as well as self-defence. Stan had a golden axe strapped across his back, and Charlie, who was walking next to him, had a golden pickaxe latched to his waist.

“Stan, listen, I get that you really miss Sally,” said Charlie. “But there is no way that she telepathically contacted you or something. Trust me, I’ve read pretty much every book in the library about this game and the stuff in it, and there’s no way that it’s possible. I’m sorry, Stan, but Sally’s dead.”

Stan sighed, his tolerance wearing thin. “Charlie, I am positive of what I heard. Sally was speaking to me, and she told me that she had seen Caesar and Leonidas talking to a whole group. And personally, I think it’s very possible that the remnants of King Kev’s army have banded together.”

“Stan, stop!” Charlie butted in. Having lost his cat, Lemon, in the Ender Desert during their quest to take down King Kev, Charlie understood what Stan was going through. However, he felt Stan’s grieving had reached a point of crazy obsession. That Stan was having this kind of hallucination three months after the fact made Charlie seriously question Stan’s mental state.

“Stan, listen to me very carefully. You were dreaming. Sally is dead and she is not coming back. You miss Sally very much and I get that. But do me a favour, and don’t talk until we get to the arena. On the way there, I want you to ask yourself if you really heard Sally talking to you last night, or if you were just hearing things because you were very tired after a long campaign.”

Stan followed his friend’s instructions. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Charlie was probably right. Stan certainly had done his fair share of grieving over Sally, but he realized that his exhaustion after the campaign may very well have caused him to hear voices. By the time Stan, Charlie and the throng of players around them had crossed the grassy courtyard and entered the Element City Spleef Arena, Stan had dismissed his late-night conversation with Sally as nothing more than a delusion.

CHAPTER 3
THE SPLEEF QUARTERFINALS

There could be nothing better said about the Element City Spleef Arena than that it was the crown jewel of the metropolis. It was expertly constructed with elegant patterns of blocks of diamond, gold, lapis lazuli and brick. The large building was ringed by the ornate courtyard, which was more often than not packed with fans, hoping to hear anything to indicate what was happening inside.

When Stan defeated King Kev in battle and became president of the Grand Republic of Elementia, it was less than three days before an enormous petition surfaced, requesting the reinstatement of Spleef in Elementia. After consulting briefly with the Council of Eight, and particularly with DZ (who was an experienced Spleef player from back in the day), Stan had decreed that the sport of Spleef be allowed back into Elementia. He had ordered the construction of a new Spleef arena equidistant from the upper-level and lower-level districts of Element City, so that citizens of all levels could easily come and watch the Spleef matches.

Under the new mandate, a new schedule of Spleef games was carefully set up. There were also variation to the game put in place to make the sport more interesting. All these changes made Stan very excited to see what today’s quarterfinal match would hold. He was even more excited, though, to see how DZ, Kat and Ben, as the three members of the competing Zombies Spleef team, would handle it.

Kat pulled the green leather helmet onto her head and fastened the strap under her chin. She grumbled to herself, not liking this new feature. Although leather armour had become much more lightweight in the last update of Minecraft, it now also required additional straps. Kat personally would have preferred the heavier but simpler leather cap, tunic, trousers, and boots that she was used to.

She was sitting in a cobblestone room with a chest, three chairs, and an iron door on both sides. Two chairs were occupied by Kat’s teammates, DZ and Ben (who, alongside his brothers Bill and Bob, was now a chief of police in Element City). The chest contained their gear, which they were now putting on. While one iron door led to the corridor through which they had entered the room, the other led to the Element City Spleef Arena. On this square field, the three players were expected to battle another team of three for the amusement of six hundred spectators.

“I still can’t believe that Stan makes us wear this stupid armour,” complained DZ in his heavy New York accent as he struggled into his green leather trousers. DZ had played Spleef back before King Kev had banned it, when no armour was required. He was so used to playing without armour that, to this day, he refused to wear it, even in combat.

“Ah, be quiet, DZ,” retorted Ben, who was already suited up and pulling his diamond shovel out of the chest. “He only added it so that we can whack each other with shovels now!”

“Oh, please, don’t you remember the old days? People used to hit each other with shovels all the time! They weren’t supposed to, but the refs didn’t stop it. The crowd liked it, and it was freaking awesome!” DZ replied as he finally managed to tie the straps of the leather trousers.

“As a matter of fact, I never did see any of the old Spleef matches, because my brothers and I—”

“Come on, guys!” exclaimed Kat, standing up. “We’ve got to focus, OK? We almost lost to the Ghasts during that last round!”

“We did not almost lose, I had that match the entire time!” retorted DZ, snatching up his diamond shovel.

“DZ, you taking out one guy while the other guy gets knocked into a pit by a snowball is not ‘having the match’!” said Kat. “I get that you’re probably the best Spleef player in the league, but if the dispensers hadn’t started to fire snowballs, you would have gotten destroyed by those two!”

“How do you know that?” DZ snapped. “As I recall, you and Ben were floating in a lake twenty blocks below the arena when this happened!”

“Ah, lay off her, DZ,” said Ben, reaching into the chest and tossing the last diamond shovel over to Kat. “It doesn’t matter, OK, guys? That was the last match. What matters is that we’re still the best team, and those Blazes aren’t gonna know what hit them!”

“Oh yeah!” cried Kat as she caught the shovel and pumped her fist in the air.

“You’re right, Ben! We’re gonna win ’cause we’re awesome, unstoppable, and, most important, we’ve got me! So let’s go!” cried DZ, just as the mechanical door swung open. DZ rushed out, followed quickly by Ben and Kat. All three of them were hyped up, and the crowd greeted them with raucous applause. Kat’s eyes adjusted to the bright light of the open-skied Spleef arena, and her jaw dropped.

Inside the fifty-by-fifty-block arena, surrounded on all sides by screaming fans, was a bona fide forest. Trees sprouted from the flat dirt ground, which Kat knew to be only a block thick. The trees covered a good portion of the arena. It would lead to various trapping and ambush techniques by the two teams.

Kat was shocked. It was her third official Spleef match, but this was by far the most complex arena she had seen. In their preliminary match, the arena had been the standard level surface constructed of snow blocks. Kat had liked that arena. Breaking the snow blocks had yielded snowballs, which Kat had thrown to great effect, knocking two of her opponents into the pit below.

The object of Spleef was pretty simple. In a fifty-by-fifty-block arena, with the floor only one block thick, two teams fought to knock each other into the pit below by destroying the floor and knocking their opponents into the holes using shovels and snowballs. The last team with a player standing won.

Kat, Ben and DZ, the three members of the Zombie team, had easily managed to take out the Wolves in the qualifying round. However, they had barely notched a victory against the Ghasts on a tundra field in the preliminary round. Now, in their quarterfinal round against the Blazes, they would be fighting in a forest.

Kat heard the tell-tale creak and click of the iron door swinging shut behind her, indicating that the match had officially begun. As was her pre-game strategy, she focused on the environment around her, completely ignoring the open blue skies above and the cheering of the fanatic crowds. She only allowed herself to be aware of the woodland that had been constructed around her and the two players at her side. They were now the only players she could trust until she left the arena.

Suddenly, the sky turned black, and all was silent. She had tapped into some primordial survival instinct, and now imagined herself standing in a silent forest at night. Somewhere in these woods were evil monsters, all working for a team called the Blazes. The only way for her to escape was to take them down with the help of her friends beside her.

Kat realized that DZ was motioning her and Ben forwards. As he was their team leader, Kat followed his order. She trailed DZ into the maze of trees, aware that Ben was watching her back. Kat was confident following DZ into the arena. He was a fantastic leader and had a ton of knowledge about Spleef strategy, built up from playing professionally back before the game was banned. While the other teams used the strategy of spreading out, DZ had explicitly told them that the best strategy was to stick together and watch one another’s backs.

Suddenly, Ben cried out in alarm, and Kat spun her head towards the source. A player, clad in bright orange leather armour, had burst around the side of the nearest tree, bringing his shovel down onto the dirt block beneath Kat’s feet. She leaped backwards as the block broke, revealing a pit of water below. Ben lunged forwards and swung his shovel across the assailant’s chest.

As Kat regained her footing, she became aware of DZ locking shovels with a second member of the Blazes and quickly overpowering him. Kat turned and saw both Ben and the other Blaze fall to the ground at the same time. Kat stepped forwards and drove her shovel into the block beneath the fallen Blaze, sending him tumbling into the pit below. She quickly turned back to DZ and saw that he had caught the other Blaze off guard, opening a hole in the ground behind him and kicking him into it.

Kat was jubilant. They were up three to one, with only one more Blaze standing between them and the semifinals. As the applause died down, Kat followed DZ’s motion for a team huddle.

“All right you guys, good work so far, but I think it’s time to switch our strategy. Execute Operation Zombie Swarm.”

“Right,” replied Kat and Ben in unison, and they spread out around the edge of the arena and eventually lost sight of one another. In Operation Zombie Swarm, they would all hunt the remaining Blaze separately. If they found him, they would play defence and call in their teammates for backup.

Kat quietly snuck forwards through the trees, her ears perked up, tuning out the roar of the crowd to listen for any unnatural noises that indicated an impending attack. Her eyes scanned the gaps between the trees. Suddenly, she caught a flash of orange behind one of the pillars of wood before it hastily disappeared. Wasting no time, Kat called out to her teammates and sprinted after the orange form. Kat burst into the clearing where she was sure the player had gone, but it was deserted.

Kat only had a moment to consider what to do next before someone crashed into her side, and she hit the ground tumbling. Dazed, she pulled herself up in time to see the dirt beneath Ben’s feet bursting into nothing as he fell into the pit below. An orange figure was standing there, shovel in hand. It was Ben who had knocked Kat out of the way, even though it meant falling into the pit below himself.

Kat hopped up and attacked the remaining Blaze with a shovel, just as DZ burst from behind a tree and did the same. This Blaze was exceptionally skilled, as he dodged both attacks and then swung his shovel into DZ. By the time Kat had recovered from her missed attack, the Blaze had tricked DZ. He took one wrong step and plunged into the same hole that Ben had fallen into.

Kat gritted her teeth, determined not to lose, and rushed at the remaining Blaze. She leaped into the air just as the player destroyed the dirt block beneath her. Kat reached out her left hand and tackled the Blaze to the ground, pinning him beneath her. In his daze, the player was powerless to stop Kat as she brought her diamond shovel up in her right hand, and in two jabs destroyed the dirt below them. Kat kicked off the player’s stomach, forcing him downwards to join Ben, DZ, and the two other Blazes as Kat landed safely on the soil above.

The match now over, Kat took in the tumultuous applause from the crowd around her. She waved to them all, a huge grin breaking across her face. From the pit below, she heard the hoots and cheers of Ben and DZ, praising their teammate for her victory.

Oh man, thought Kat as the glow of victory radiated from her face like sunbeams. Three matches down, two to go!

Stan was now well below the stands, but he could still hear the sound erupting from the crowd above. Stan and Charlie had to push their way through gaggles of fanatic Zombie fans to get to Kat, DZ and Ben.

“That was easily one of the most awesome things I’ve ever seen,” said Stan, images from the match still flashing through his head.

“I know, right?” said Charlie. “I mean, I get that we’re busy and all, but was that really the first time you’ve ever come to one of these matches? Stan, you signed the paper that made the place!”

“Well, I’ll tell you this, Charlie, I’m definitely coming to every one of these matches from now on.”

Charlie laughed. “Man, you haven’t seen anything yet! You know, last time they played, in the match against the Ghasts …” And Charlie and Stan spent the rest of the walk down the corridor talking about the previous matches.

“And right as DZ was about to— Hey, guys!” shouted Charlie as he entered the room and rushed over to greet his friends. Stan followed closely behind. G and Kat released each other from their hug and beckoned the two new arrivals over to them, while DZ, Ben and his brother Bill walked over, followed closely by Bob, who sat on the back of a pink pig.

Stan, like all his friends, felt that Bob was very lucky to be alive at all. During the battle in which Stan had defeated King Kev, which was now commonly known as the Battle for Elementia, Bill and Bob had engaged Caesar, who had been King Kev’s right-hand man and was an exceptional sword-fighter, in combat. They had failed to defeat him, and Caesar would have killed Bob had Kat not intervened. Instead, the sword strike intended to kill Bob destroyed his kneecap and severed his leg from his body.

Luckily, Bill and Ben had used their entire supply of Potions of Regeneration to reattach Bob’s leg, and he had regained very limited use of it. However, it had quickly become evident that Bob would never walk again. That didn’t stop Bob from serving alongside his brothers as a police chief of Element City, though. He now followed Ben, Bill and DZ over to Stan, Charlie, Kat and G on the back of Ivanhoe, his trusty war pig, which had been saddled and was controlled with guidance through carrots.

Although one might think Bob wasn’t the same warrior he’d been, nothing could be further from the truth. He could shoot his bow just as well on pigback as he could on foot, and the pig was swift and adaptable to rough terrains. Bob had quickly gained renown as the fastest and most pliable officer on the force, a nightmare to any criminal who gave them chase.

“Nice match, guys!” said Charlie.

“Yeah, guys, that match was one of the most awesome things I’ve ever seen,” added Stan.

“Eh, thanks, guys,” said Kat. “Nice of you to finally come down to see one of the matches, Stan,” she added with a smirk.

“Hey, you know I’ve been up to my neck in work since the campaign began,” said Stan, being playfully defensive. “I tell you, though, from now on I’m making it a priority to come to each and every one of these matches.”

“Good to hear,” said Ben, butting in between them with DZ and the other two police chiefs at his side. “Now is it just me, or did I hear someone say party at the castle courtyard?”

“Nobody said that, Ben,” added Kat with a laugh.

“Oh, well then, I guess it was just me thinking it,” said Ben, grinning. “But now that it’s out there, we might as well go and do it. Come on, guys!” He led his brothers and DZ out of the room and into a corridor that would take them into the courtyard to be received by their adoring fans.

Kat gave a laugh and called out, “Wait up, Ben!” She ran to catch him, followed by G, who had been at Kat’s side the whole time and was now following her at a determinedly close distance. Stan and Charlie glanced at each other, and both rolled their eyes at G’s clinginess before following the other five players.

Stan never failed to be amazed at how fast the Imperial Butlers prepared meals at his whim. Even now, when Stan ordered them to prepare enough cake, cookies, and pumpkin pie for a victory party, it was all prepared and set out on ornate tables within a matter of minutes. Stan had personally been in favour of getting rid of the Imperial Butlers, as the organization had originally been created for catering to the desires of King Kev. However, the council had surveyed the people of the city and voted that they deserved the service of the butlers, provided the butlers were paid well.

Stan was certainly glad that the butlers were here, now that the festival was shifting into full gear. He looked around and saw that his people were in the highest of spirits, with more players streaming into the courtyard and immediately partaking in the dancing and feasting. Stan saw Ben and Bill cheering on Bob, who had somehow managed to teach Ivanhoe the pig how to do the moonwalk as the music blasted from the nearest jukebox. Kat and G were mingling with people, Kat holding a feather quill in her hand and signing autographs for fans of the Zombies. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her newfound fame as a Spleef athlete.

“Eh, this is a nice little shindig ya got goin’ here, Stan,” came a voice from behind him. DZ had come up to Stan, pumpkin pie in both hands, with Charlie following.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if people supported the Zombies now just so that there are more victory parties like this,” Charlie said.

“Very true,” said Stan. “So, DZ, how does it feel to finally get back in the Spleef arena?”

“Awesome, man!” came DZ’s enthused reply. “I mean, I think it’s been coming for a long time, but I really owe you one, Stan. I think the new rules for Spleef are a million times more fun than the old ones – even if you do make us wear armour,” he added with a smirk.

“It’s a necessary evil, DZ, you know that. I made the shovel techniques legal, just like you asked, but the council—”

“Yeah, I know, the council insisted on armour,” DZ finished for him, waving his hand. “I’m just joshing ya, Stan, you know how grateful I am for you doing all of this. And I gotta say, I am very, very happy with my new teammates.”

“Yeah, they do seem to be enjoying it,” said Stan, jerking a thumb towards Kat, who was now being approached by two boys and a girl, all of whom were wearing green Zombie uniforms and asking her to sign them.

“OK, OK, don’t worry, plenty of me to go around,” said Kat with a laugh as she pulled out her quill and brought it down towards the chestplate.

Stan felt a chill on the back of his neck, and he knew immediately that something was wrong. He could tell by the widening of G’s eyes that G could sense it too. As a sword appeared in the fan’s hand, G whipped out his pickaxe and knocked the blade aside. The fan’s sword, which would have pierced Kat in the stomach, instead stuck into the ground, and G’s pickaxe slammed across the fan’s head, knocking him to the ground.

Kat’s sword was out of her inventory in a flash as the second fan-turned-assailant whipped out a bow and arrow. Kat slashed the bow in half before the player could fire, just as the third assailant pulled a green potion out of her inventory and threw it at G’s head. Kat struck the flying bottle out of the air with her sword and the bottle exploded, spraying G and herself with poison. Two slashes later, all three of the fans lay unconscious on the ground.

Stan’s senses kicked into overdrive as all over the courtyard, figures hastily pulled black tunics and caps on. Fifteen figures throughout the crowd pulled swords from their inventories, which swiftly changed to the same colour as their tunics. In unison, the figures raised the black swords in the air and belted out, “VIVA LA NOCTEM!”

Stan immediately recognized that, whatever this was, it was not random. This was planned, this was organized, and this was dangerous. The figures surged forwards and converged towards the centre of the courtyard. The partygoers sprinted away from the black-robed figures, screaming in terror. Stan reached into his inventory and slung his bow across his back, put his quiver of arrows at his side, and held his diamond axe in his hands. He saw that two of the figures were rushing towards him, and he prepared to engage their black blades in combat.

However, Stan was totally caught off guard when the two figures jammed their black swords into their sheaths and whipped out more potions, both green and dark purple ones. Stan realized in horror that these were Potions of Poison and Harming. In a matter of seconds, four potions flew through the air towards Stan, and he was forced to hop and skip backwards to avoid being caught in the blast radius of the shattering bottles.

Stan was uneasy, never having fought against players who used potions as weapons before. Taking what he found to be the logical approach, Stan drew his bow. The string of his bow twanged twice, and an arrow flew into each of the dark figures’ tunics. Unfazed, the two players drew bright red potions from their inventory and in one swig downed the entire bottle. The effect was instantaneous. The arrows popped from the chestplates, leaving only a small hole in the tunic in their places.

Stan was shocked. What was this? Who were these players, where did they get all these potions, and how did they learn to fight with them so well? Stan, desperate as more Potions of Poison and Harming flew his way, looked around for help. He realized with a jolt that all the high-ranking officials of Element City, all his friends, were now engaged in combat with these players. He was equally alarmed to see that all the mysterious players fought using potions, keeping even master sword fighters like DZ from getting in close enough to use their skills.

As Stan drew his axe to engage his attackers at close range, he reminded himself that he had to be careful. He had no idea where these players came from or who they were, but they were clearly in the order of assassins. That meant that besides escaping the attack and staying alive, Stan had an obligation to take these players prisoner. If he killed the players or let them escape, they would never be interrogated and Stan would never find out why they had attacked him.

Stan ducked another Potion of Harming, and he slammed the butt end of his axe into the thrower’s head. The player, whose eyes were barely visible under a ninja mask and black leather cap, looked stunned. He fell to the ground at Stan’s feet, just as Stan felt a sting on his unarmoured back. As he cringed, Stan realized that he had been hit with a Potion of Harming from another assassin. Stan spun around just as the attacker was about to throw another potion. Stan ducked the bottle, and he swung his axe blade under the attacker’s legs, knocking him to the ground. Stan surged forwards and stepped on the player’s chest, pinning his throwing hand to the ground with his axe.

“OK,” said Stan, breathing heavily. The potion stain on his unprotected back was burning, intensifying his rage. “Who are you people, and why are you attacking us?”

There was no hesitation. The attacker, with his free hand, drew a purple potion from his inventory at light speed and poured the entire contents down his throat. There was a quick shudder, and the attacker’s hand went limp, the empty bottle rolling to the side. His items burst about him in a ring, a sure indicator that the attacker had died.

Stan looked around and saw that like himself, all of his friends had bested the attackers. The black-robed forms now all lay on the ground. In the hands of each of them were the glints of empty glass bottles.

Stan was stunned. What motivation could these players possibly have had that they would rather die than be captured? Stan looked down and realized that one of the attackers was not dead, just unconscious. Well, I’m sure he’ll be able to explain this to us, thought Stan as he dragged him by the knees over to the others.

Kat and G were each drinking a Potion of Regeneration to counter the poison that had exploded in their faces. Kat was using another potion to heal her dog, Rex (who had appeared from nowhere to defend his mistress). Bob was using a Potion of Healing to mend a burn that a Potion of Harming had left on Ivanhoe’s side. Besides that, everybody seemed fine.

Five players were rushing over the Element Castle drawbridge. As they approached, Stan recognized them as Blackraven, Councilman Jayden, Archie, the Mechanist, and Gobbleguy. They looked around in shock, disgust and horror at the black-clad corpses that littered the ground, and the empty potion bottles beside them.

“What happened out here?” asked Gobbleguy, his face stricken with worry.

Stan explained, “We were having an after-party to celebrate the Zombies winning the Spleef match, when out of nowhere a few of the fans tried to kill Kat. Then a bunch of other players pulled out black caps, tunics and swords, and tried to kill the rest of us.”

“Wait, they yelled something before that, didn’t they?” asked DZ.

“Yeah, they yelled ‘Viva la Noctem,’” said Charlie.

Jayden’s and Archie’s faces morphed into alarm. “Did you say … they yelled ‘Viva la Noctem,’ and then they tried to kill you?” asked Archie.

“Yeah,” said Kat. “Why? Does that mean anything to you guys?”

“Oh, boy … yes it does,” said Jayden, pressing his hands together, sweat accumulating on his forehead. “You know how Archie and I said we had business yesterday?”

“Yeah …” said G slowly. The two of them had had to leave the council meeting early because of it.

“Well, we went to a Noctem Alliance rally in the Residential District,” said Jayden.

“You did what?” shouted Stan, taken aback.

“Yeah,” said Archie. “We went undercover there. We wanted to know more about the group, you know, check out whether or not they were just a protesting group, or something more threatening.”

“And what did you find?” asked Bill. Stan was dreading the answer.

“The guy speaking there said that the upper-level citizens of Element City deserve better than to share the streets with what they called ‘lower-level trash’,” said Archie.

“Yeah, well, we know that’s what the views of that group are, they’ve made that very clear from the get-go,” said Charlie. “But what does that have to do with what happened today?”

“That’s just it! The guy at the rally said that the Noctem Freedom Fighters – that’s what he called them – must be willing to go to any lengths to preserve their ideals. The rally finished with the leader doing that chant. The entire rally started chanting.” A shadow crossed his face as he said the phrase once again.

“Viva la Noctem. The motto of the Noctem Alliance.”

CHAPTER 4
VIVA LA NOCTEM

There was stunned silence. Stan could not believe what he was hearing. The attempts to kill him and his friends … the black tunics … the chant … it seemed clear to Stan that the players who had tried to kill them tonight were working for the Noctem Alliance.

“Are you serious right now?” wailed DZ in despair.

“Hold up, DZ, don’t jump to conclusions,” said Gobbleguy quickly. “It is very possible that these attacks were a result of the Noctem Alliance, and at this point it may seem like that’s the only explanation. However, let me remind you that we cannot know this for sure until the attackers have stood trial. For all we know, these people could have been trying to frame the Noctem Alliance.”

“How are they going to stand trial?” asked Blackraven, gesturing to the corpses around him. “They all killed themselves rather than allow themselves to be captured.”

“Not all of them,” Stan and Kat said at the same time. Stan looked down at the would-be-assassin who he had knocked unconscious with the butt of his axe.

“Four of them weren’t killed,” said Kat. “Stan knocked one out, and G and I knocked out three more. When they come to, we can have them stand trial in the name of their co-conspirators.”

“We’d better strip them of their stuff, though,” added Ben, “or else they’ll just try to kill themselves when they come to.”

“Good idea,” said Kat, giving him a smile, which he returned. Stan noticed G instinctively edge a little closer to Kat.

“OK then,” said Stan. “Charlie, come with me and clean up the items these guys dropped. Bill, Ben, Bob and DZ, you take these four.” He jerked his thumb at the four remaining black figures, the others having vanished. “Bring them down to the jailhouse, but strip them of their items first. The rest of you, go down to the courthouse and let them know that we have four assassins who attempted to kill us, and we need to have an emergency trial. OK, let’s go.”

And with that, Rex, Ivanhoe and all the players went off in their respective directions.

By that evening, the Elementia courthouse was prepped for what people were calling the biggest trial of all time. Indeed, since Stan had come to power on the server, this was the first attempt by anybody to attack him. The trial of those responsible was extremely important.

All those necessary for the trial, which was to take place in the Avery Memorial Courthouse, were present. The four surviving conspirators sat side by side, inside a machine designed by the Mechanist that restrained their movement.

Stan sat in the middle chair of the Panel of Judgement, with four members of the council on each side of him. Bill, Ben and Bob stood at attention at the base of the podium on which the Panel of Judgement was sitting. As the chiefs of police, it was their job to call in their forces if anything bad should happen.

Ben stepped forwards and, after opening statements and taking a roll call of the council members, he spoke out. “You four players before me, who have given your names as Arnold S, Stewart, Lilac and Roachboy, you are hereby charged with the crimes of attempted murder and terrorist activities. Do any of you plead innocent to any of these charges?”

“No,” came the reply. Completely in unison.

Stan’s eyebrows flew up. The Mechanist had designed the machine holding the suspects so they could hear the members of the Panel of Judgement, but not each other. Somehow, though, they had all answered Ben’s question at exactly the same time.

“In that case, I find you guilty of all charges. You are to be interrogated by Mecha11, and then, depending on how you cooperate, you will either be given a painless death by lethal consumption, or be imprisoned for life in Brimstone Prison.”

“We will not speak,” came the reply, again in complete synchronization. “And we would rather die than bear witness against our noble leader, Lord Tenebris of the Noctem Alliance.”

Stan leaped to his feet. “So you are with the Noctem Alliance! Where are you organized? Who is Lord Tenebris?”

The reply never came. All four of the co-conspirators smiled, again in perfect harmony. Suddenly, in a rush of clicks and whirs, the whole detainment machine sank into the ground, freeing the four players. The Mechanist’s jaw dropped. He had been standing by the levers that controlled the machine the entire time, and he hadn’t touched them. More incredibly, the four players, who had previously been searched thoroughly and were holding nothing, drew Potions of Harming out of their inventory and raised them to their mouths.

Stan bellowed in rage, and the police threw a storm of Potions of Slowness at the assassins to knock them out before they could drink their potions. But it was too late. The four assassins downed their potions in one gulp, and gave out one last valiant shout of, “VIVA LA NOCTEM!” The four hit the ground face-down at the same time. To be safe, the soldiers and police surrounded the four bodies, weapons at the ready should they be faking death, but when the four assassins disappeared, all doubt vanished.

As the panel started buzzing like bees, urgently discussing the implications of this latest turn of events, Stan’s face showed only grim resolve. He was mortified that this chain of horrific events should happen to him, to his people. He was furious that a new threat had arrived even before the last of King Kev’s supporters had been caught. Stan would not allow the Noctem Alliance to grow into an organization similar to the reign of King Kev. This time, Stan was determined to nip it in the bud.

The next day, Stan, on his first Proclamation Day of his second term as president, did just that. The court had decided with no doubt that the Noctem Alliance was supporting these assassins, and after a hastily organized council meeting, the Noctem Alliance had been pegged as a terrorist organization. When the citizens had gathered at the foot of Element Castle, Stan announced the new law, which had been implemented unanimously by the council.

“From this day forwards, it is illegal for anybody in Elementia to be a member of, or to be associated with, or to be sympathetic towards the terrorist group called the Noctem Alliance. This organization has tried to kill me as well as your councilmen, and they are opposed to equality for lower-level players. Any information regarding the Noctem Alliance and its members should be given to a soldier or policeman, and your help in defeating this threat is greatly appreciated.”

The cheers that reverberated over the packed courtyard seemed hollow and empty to Stan. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of those in the crowd were really advocates of the Noctem Alliance, whose applause of adulation were nothing more than facades, hiding true feelings of hatred, malevolence and spite.

Across the server, away from the fertile plains and forests of the motherland of Elementia, past the jungle, across the vast Ender Desert, sat the tundra, a dark plain biome of frigid badlands where no civilization had ever taken hold. There, deep in the most inhospitable stretches of the barren wasteland, another proclamation was imminent. If you looked hard enough through the snow that whipped the face and stung the skin, that kept the sky black even at high noon, you could see it. Indeed, there was a society out in the tundra, which at the moment was nothing more than one grand building, constructed of the finest stone brick and spruce wood. Makeshift dirt shelters speckled the permafrost surrounding the one ornate structure.

A total of about a hundred and twenty players stood clustered at the foot of the brick building. The wooden balcony above them sheltered them from the snow, and the torches on the walls provided heat. Though the warmth was faint, it was still a welcome break from the cold that these players had endured for months on end.

As they heard footsteps on the wood above them, the rabble of a hundred and twenty frozen players quickly rushed out from below the balcony, forming the rows they were expected to be in when addressed by their superiors.

Now that they had left the warm haven of the balcony, the players could see the three players standing on the balcony. These were the three generals of the Noctem Alliance, the organization to which all these players had pledged themselves. Barely visible in the torchlight, the players could make out the brown face and ornate armour of General Leonidas at the back right, the giant, hulking shape of General Minotaurus at the back left, and the white-robed form of General Caesar, head of the Noctem Freedom Fighters, at the front. Caesar opened his mouth and spoke.

“My brothers and sisters of the Noctem Alliance, I address you today bearing good tidings. The fifteen of our own that we have sent into Element City have submitted to the leaders of Elementia. They revealed their allegiance to our great leader, Lord Tenebris, before sending themselves in the same way as our great martyr, King Kev of Elementia. The beginning phase of our plan to retake Element City for our own is a success!”

As they were preprogrammed to do on such a rare occasion that news as good as this came their way, the hundred and twenty members of the Noctem Freedom Fighters gave the Noctem Alliance victory chant in perfect unison: “VIVA LA NOCTEM!”

“Furthermore, our spy within the hierarchy of the Element City government has informed me that Stan2012 has declared affiliation with the Noctem Alliance illegal. In their noble sacrifice, our brothers and sisters have instilled a germ of fear of the name of the Noctem Alliance. This germ shall multiply and spread within the populace, and shall before long infect the entirety of Element City!”

Again, the chant rang out in unison through the whistling winds of the never-ending blizzard: “VIVA LA NOCTEM!”

“Besides this, I bear news of even greater importance: our beloved leader, Lord Tenebris, has informed me that the construction of the Specialty Base is underway. In time, this shall spell doom for Stan2012 and the rest of the leadership of Element City, leaving the plot of land called Element City, which is rightfully ours, ripe for the picking!”

“VIVA LA NOCTEM!”

“It is in light of these joyous developments that I announce it is time to put our second phase of warfare into action! I now call all members of the second battalion of the Noctem Freedom Fighters to mobilize, for tomorrow, you follow General Leonidas into combat in the motherland of Elementia. The rest of you are dismissed. Good night, my brothers and sisters! Long live Lord Tenebris! Long live the Noctem Alliance!”

“VIVA LA NOCTEM!” the Freedom Fighters belted out for the last time, before running into their dirt shacks to prepare themselves for battle.

Caesar turned and retreated to the warmth of the building, followed by Leonidas and Minotaurus, who had to duck to enter the room.

It was pleasant inside. Books sat on shelves all over the walls, and a fire roaring on a Netherrack base projected warmth into the room around them. The walls were of stone brick, and the three generals’ prized weapons – Leonidas’s bow, Minotaurus’s double-ended battle-axe, and Caesar’s diamond sword – hung in frames on the mantel.

Leonidas and Caesar sat down on chairs facing the fire. Minotaurus spoke, “Excuse me, Caesar, but I will be back. It is time for me to tend to my potato farm,” and walked out the side door to attend to his hobby, accidentally breaking the wooden door off its hinges as it slammed behind him.

As Leonidas and Caesar stared into the fire, neither of them conversed, but both knew that there were unspoken words hanging in the air. It was a full minute before Caesar turned to his colleague and spoke, “Well, Leonidas, you clearly have something on your mind. What is it?”

Leonidas said nothing at first. He was lost in a train of long, confusing and never-ending thoughts. At last, he turned to Caesar, and voiced the most pressing of his concerns.

“Caesar … do ya remember the prisoners’ village?”

Caesar stood up and threw back his head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Leonidas, don’t tell me you’re still on about that village!”

“No, of course not,” said Leonidas quickly, quite unsure of whether he was lying not only to Caesar but also to himself. “We did what had to be done, I wouldn’t have done it any other way, except for …” Leonidas chose his words carefully; he did not want to see Caesar upset. “Why is it that we didn’t even ask those players if they wanted to join us? I don’t know, but it’s kinda possible that we may have killed some potential allies.”

“Rubbish, Leonidas,” spat Caesar, shaking his head in contempt at Leonidas’s apparent foolishness. “There was nothing for us in that village. Those people in the prisoners’ village had been living on nothing for longer than was worth it. Trust me, we did all of them a mercy.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right,” said Leonidas, his voice falsely cheery. “Yeah … there just woulda been more suffering if we’d left any of ’em alive.”

But the more Leonidas thought of his corporal’s reports of the carnage and slaughter the Noctem Alliance had committed in the prisoners’ village, the more Leonidas was reassuring himself that that was not true.

CHAPTER 5
THE TENNIS MACHINE

Although Stan did not know exactly what the repercussions of the attack by the Noctem agents would be, he certainly did not expect that life would carry on as usual. And yet, that’s exactly what happened. The only significant difference in the daily flow of things was the cessation of rallies and protests by the Noctem Alliance.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Stan asked, a week after he’d banned the Noctem Alliance, as he walked out of the castle courtyard and onto the bustling main road lined with stores alongside Kat and Charlie. “I mean, these guys in black try to kill us, and they say they’re with the Noctem Alliance before committing suicide, and then there’s nothing for a week? What sense does that make?”

“It is odd,” replied Charlie slowly. “You’d think there would be some aftermath. But it’s like the Noctem Alliance completely vanished off the map. You don’t think they’re plotting something, do you?”

That thought sat unpleasantly in Stan’s stomach, and he was about to respond when Kat cut him off, and said in a superior drawl, “I think you two are reading too much into it. The Noctem Alliance was just a bunch of stuck-up, rich brats who didn’t like that they had to share with the lower-levels. They whined and had a tantrum about it, but some of them took it a step too far.”

“Well, if that’s the case, why haven’t they retaliated yet?” asked Charlie.

“Because they’re a bunch of cowards,” replied Kat, a note of disgust on her tongue. “They couldn’t get what they wanted through protesting, so the twenty or so of them who cared more than was good for them tried to attack us. They were OK with dying, because they didn’t think life would be worth it if they couldn’t get what they wanted. That’s why they were willing to kill themselves, and that’s why they had such good supplies, because they’re spoiled upper-levels. And now that those few radicals are dead, none of them left care enough to die for the cause of the Alliance.”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Stan, nodding. “It is true that it’s really only the rich and upper-level people in this city who are against equality now. Well, besides the war prisoners we took from the battle.”

“And they’re not in any position to do anything about it, they’re all locked up in Brimstone,” added Charlie. He was referring to the highest-end prison in Elementia, situated in the remnants of the Nether Fortress that RAT1 had blown up before the Battle for Elementia.

“Exactly,” said Kat. “Trust me, Stan, I think now that you’ve made it illegal, we aren’t gonna be hearing any more from the Noctem Alliance. On the other hand, there are probably going to be more rich people sulking in their houses about equality now that they can’t run around in black tunics whining about it.”

Stan chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right, Kat, I’m just over-thinking it.”

Charlie agreed. “So, what are we gonna do on our day off, guys? Let’s make it count.”

“Ooh, ooh! I know!” said Kat, jumping up and down in excitement. “How about we borrow Ivanhoe and have him defecate on the steps of the Avery Memorial Courthouse?”

“Kat, I built that courthouse as a memorial to my friend who sacrificed his life to save me from King Kev! I am not going to let a pig poop on the front steps!” said Stan in exasperation as Charlie laughed. Stan seriously wondered whether she was joking.

“Fine. Ooh! Better idea!” said Kat, her mouth wide open in an elated grin. “Let’s go over to the Apothecary Memorial Fountain … and have Ivanhoe defecate in the water!”

“NO!” cried Stan as Charlie clutched his sides in his hysterics. “The Apothecary saved my life too!”

“Good point. Ooh! I know!” cried Kat, her face glowing with amusement as she glanced at Charlie.

“Does it involve a pig taking a dump on something I built to honour my dead friends?” Stan asked, taking in just how ridiculous it was that he should have to ask such a question, as Charlie rolled on the ground laughing. Prolonged exposure to Oob the NPC villager had made Charlie susceptible to laughter at these kinds of jokes, a fact that Kat used to her advantage often.

“Wait, you have more dead friends? Well, I suppose we could go down to the Adorian Village or to Steve Memorial Farm …”

“Do you have a real idea, Kat?” Stan asked as Charlie pulled himself up and regained his composure.

“OK, OK. The Mechanist told me he’s unveiling his new machine today!” exclaimed Kat.

“You mean the one he’s been building in the park?” Charlie asked. “That’s being finished today?”

“That’s the one,” replied Kat. “I’m thinking we should spend the first part of the day seeing whatever that is.”

“Sounds like a plan!” said Stan, and Charlie nodded his approval. Together, the three friends turned and walked in the direction of the park where the Mechanist had spent all his free time for weeks, building a mysterious contraption. On the way, the talk turned to the Spleef Tournament.

“Oh, there’s no doubt about it, DZ is the best player on our team,” Kat assured Stan. “He was brought down by a lucky shot in that last match, I would be shocked if something like that ever happened again.”

“Regardless of who’s the best player, there’s no denying you three are the best team, right?” asked Stan. “I mean, you guys did those combo attacks like they were second nature, and the other team barely did anything!”

“Yes, and you’ll notice that we moved on, and they didn’t,” said Kat with a grimace. “We’ve got a long, hard road ahead of us, Stan. We only have two matches left, and we’re gonna have to put our noses to the grindstone if we want to have a chance of beating our next opponent.”

“Who is your next opponent, by the way?” asked Charlie. “I know that the only teams left in the tournament are the Bats, the Skeletons, the Ocelots, and you guys. But who are you up against next?”

“The Ocelots,” replied Kat. “I think that of the four of us, they’re probably tied with us and the Skeletons for the best. I don’t think the Skeletons will have any problems beating the Bats.”

“You can’t know that,” said Stan reasonably. “There’s always a chance the Bats get lu … oh, man,” he breathed as the three of them walked into a shadow and paused.

They were standing in the shadow of a giant box in the middle of the public park. The front was a square, nine blocks high by fifteen blocks long, composed entirely of redstone lamps. Protruding from this was a black box that extended twenty blocks back and probably contained the redstone wiring of the machine, which Stan assumed extended far underground. The machine was the only thing that extended up from the flat ground of the sunlit courtyard, besides the now dark lampposts that lined the sides of the gravel roads that crossed the grass park. As such, the machine commanded a good deal of attention from those strolling through the park.

“Beautiful, ain’t she?” came the smooth voice that Stan recognized as the Mechanist’s. He was leaning on a black wool table in front of the machine. On this table were two levers and a button.

“Man, Mechanist,” said Charlie as the trio walked over to him. “I don’t even know what this thing does yet and I’m already impressed!”

“Thanks, Charlie,” said the Mechanist, looking up at the towering electric marvel with a smile. “This thing’s my baby. Easily the most impressive thing I’ve built since the redstone supercomputer.”

“What does it do?” asked Stan, his interest piqued.

“Well, how’d you like to test it out? Stan, you take the lever on the left, Charlie, the one on the right,” said the Mechanist, and he gestured to the two levers, which the boys ran over to and enthusiastically clutched.

“Now, press the button, and let the magic begin,” said the Mechanist, stepping back next to Kat as the two of them prepared to watch the invention on its maiden run. Stan watched in awe as the screen of the mechanism flashed on and off at strobe speed before settling on what could only be the game screen. A single light shined in the centre of the screen, while two vertical lines three lights high glowed on opposite sides.

From somewhere within the mechanized obelisk, a series of note block chimes rang out in a catchy melody, and the Mechanist said, with glee in his voice, “Push the levers up and down.”

Stan pushed up on the lever on his side, and the effect was instantaneous. The line on his side of the screen moved to the top in a fluid animation. Stan saw the line on the other side of the screen move downwards. Charlie had pulled down on his lever simultaneously. Stan now realized what this game was. He had his hand firmly grasped on the lever when the dot of light in the centre of the screen flew upwards and to the right, then bounced off the top of the screen and came down to the left. Stan pulled down on his lever and the line of lights on his side sank down to his side of the screen. The bouncing ball of light struck the line of Stan’s lights and ricocheted off towards Charlie’s line as Charlie manoeuvred it to return the ball towards Stan.

“You made Pong!” exclaimed Charlie in wonder as he scored his first point on Stan, and a light lit up the top of his side indicating that a point had been earned.

“That I did,” replied the Mechanist. “I call it my Tennis Machine. Was absolute torture developing a point-tracking system, but I think I did all right. What say you guys?”

“This is awesome!” replied Stan.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you figured all this out! Is there nothing you can’t do?” asked Charlie.

“That is what I like to tell myself. Mostly for morale, but still,” said the Mechanist with a smirk.

“Well, you’re right,” said Stan, devoting his last ounce of attention to the response before becoming totally engrossed in the game. It was a blowout. Charlie was exceptionally skilled at the game, which was, indeed, a perfect replica of Pong. After the first game, Kat took Stan’s place, and she was much more closely matched to Charlie than Stan was. In fact, she was tied with him, and was about to score when a shout rang out from behind Stan.

“Hey, Kat! What’re you doing?”

Kat whipped around to face G, ignoring the fact that Charlie had scored on her and won the game. “G? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you!” replied G. He sounded irritated. “You promised that you’d spend some time with me soon. And, well, it’s your day off. Here I am.” And he opened his arms in front of him. Charlie rolled his eyes as he gave up his spot on the machine to two pedestrians who asked for a turn to play the game.

“Wait a second. G, today isn’t your day off. Why aren’t you with the council?” Kat said.

“Oh, I changed it so that I could spend the entire day with you,” said G with a grin. “Frankly, Jayden, Archie and DZ seemed a little upset. But who cares? Spending time with you is more important than stupid political squabbles.”

“G, those ‘stupid political squabbles’ are actually really important, if you haven’t noticed! It’s nice that you want to spend time with me, but you can’t just ditch work because of it!” moaned Kat. She seemed legitimately upset.

“Whoa, Kat! I thought you’d be happy! Do you not want to see me or something? ’Cause if that’s the case, then …”

“No, that’s not the case, G! I do like spending time with you, but you have to admit that we have been seeing each other a lot lately, and to cut work so that you can see me more …”

And the two of them went on and on. Charlie simply looked amused, occasionally giving a sigh or an eye roll of amusement. Stan, on the other hand, was slowly coming to a realization.

Ever since the incident with the Noctem Alliance had been put to rest, the biggest issues that faced Stan today were Kat’s overly clingy boyfriend and an argument starting about whose turn it was on the Tennis Machine. The Grand Republic of Elementia was now on the threshold of the greatest period of peace and prosperity that DZ, Blackraven and the other older players could remember. Just in the past week, Charlie had discovered an underground mine rich in diamonds, gold and iron. The day afterwards, the railway to Blackstone had been extended to reach the Southeastern Mountains, and a glut of coal from the region was inbound.

As all this recent success crashed into Stan like a wave, he allowed himself, for the first time that he could remember, to give himself credit. In truth, from the time he had joined Elementia, he had just done what seemed natural, and he had ended up as the leader of the whole server. However, it was just now that Stan realized he had done an exceedingly good job in creating a country that he himself would gladly be a citizen of, a country of justice. And it was all due to the efforts of him and his friends.

As Stan stepped forwards to break up the argument among the players in line for the Tennis Machine, and Charlie did the same with Kat and G, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. He looked around the sunny courtyard with a pleasantly liberating feeling that all was well, and nothing could go wrong today.

Although Leonidas still wasn’t sure what the point of the upcoming offensive was, at least he was finally comfortable. The steamy, humid climate of the jungle was much more pleasing to him than the whipping frigid winds of Nocturia. Bushwhacking through the deep underbrush with an iron sword, followed by five men trooping behind him in unison, Leonidas felt more at home than he had in a long, long time.

Leonidas glanced at the redstone compass in his hand, and he rubbed the condensation off the glass face to see the red needle. The needle indicated that they were going the right way, and the sight he saw when he burst out of the bushes confirmed this.

Situated in a small valley, cleared of trees, was a little house made of wood, with a small farm at the back. Leonidas recognized this house. He had come here months before, back when his partners Geno and Becca were still alive. They had searched this very house for the player who had since become president of the Grand Republic of Elementia. Leonidas knew the house was full of booby traps, so looting it would be more trouble than it was worth.

Leonidas knew the house would be empty. Its owner had been killed in the same battle as Geno, Becca and King Kev. And so Leonidas led his men past this house. He knew the house was situated on the most direct path between Nocturia and the Elementia Jungle Base, and indeed, they only had to walk for another ten minutes before the outpost came into view.

The Elementia Jungle Base was located within a jungle temple, an ancient naturally generated structure of mossy cobblestone and stone brick, on the side of a hill. The trees and the cliff face created a natural defence. Leonidas signalled to his men to halt as he noticed the Elementia soldiers standing on patrol atop the base, bows raised. Leonidas had anticipated this. He had listened to an entire strategy session by Caesar indicating the most efficient way to attack this base, as described by the spy within Element City.

He gestured to his two frontmost soldiers, two privates, to circle the outpost through the trees, to the left and right. The two fighters pulled off their black tunics and pulled on their green ones, expertly dyed the exact same colour as the jungle leaves. They set off in opposite directions, preparing to sneak in close and fill the base with gas at Leonidas’s command. Meanwhile, Leonidas led his remaining three men straight towards the front of the temple.

As the players approached the jungle temple, with another two circling to the sides, Leonidas’s breath began to quicken, his blood began to pump faster and faster. All the moral and strategic objections that he had to this plan to take the Jungle Base seemed to diminish as he got closer and closer to the battle. From the time he was new on the server, this had been what he had lived for. Leonidas was a fighter – he always was, and he always would be.

He pulled out a shovel with sweaty hands and led his party tunnelling the last bit of the way to the outpost. Re-emerging in a blind spot pressed right up against the wall of the outpost, the guards could not see the soldiers pulling themselves out of the ground. The timing was precise. No sooner had the last of his men pulled themselves up out of the hole than a cloud of noxious grey gas burst from the open window above them.

Leonidas and his team acted almost robotically as they pulled the Potions of Swiftness from their inventories and downed them in a single gulp. Instantly, Leonidas’s senses were charged to the highest level of acuteness, his muscles primed for the ultimate battling stature. This effect of the potion would make him and his men invulnerable to the effects of the toxic Potion of Slowness that now hung in the air within the base. His pulse beating in anticipation, Leonidas scurried up the vines on the side of the base and drew his glimmering bow. Immediately, he downed three of the guards with flaming arrows as his men followed him into the base.

As his men swarmed the temple, Leonidas noticed that each one of the dead men’s spilled inventories contained a book, the same book. The covers showed that it was The Constitution of the Republic of Elementia by Bookbinder55. Leonidas sneered. How noble, he thought, that each of these men carried the constitution of their country with them on their scouting missions. What a pity that it did not help them in the least against the supreme power of the Noctem Alliance. Then, in disgust, Leonidas tossed one of the books into the air and shot it against the wall with another flaming arrow.

Leonidas had been conflicted about this attack before, but that was all gone now. He knew nothing but an all-consuming taste for war, as the potion erased all his inhibitions. And with that, Leonidas continued the slaughter, leaving his inner compassion as useless, pathetic and forgotten as the burning constitution of Elementia pinned on the temple wall.

CHAPTER 6
ELEMENTIA DAY

The next morning, Stan looked up and gave a groggy glance out the window. When he saw the red and blue wool blocks decorating the tops of the courtyard wall, he immediately jumped out of bed – it was an important day. As he walked downstairs from his room to eat breakfast in the castle common room, Stan remembered that the previous night, the moon had been barely a sliver. It would be dark tonight.

The common room, with its paintings, a fire in the Netherrack fireplace, and chairs in a circle around the room, was also decorated with red and blue wool. This was probably Archie’s work. He always did love Elementia Day more than anybody else, despite the fact that it had been Blackraven’s idea to start the tradition almost immediately after the creation of the republic.

DZ and Charlie were already awake, and they were sitting by the refrigerator, eating today’s breakfast (prepared by the Imperial Butlers), which turned out to be pumpkin pie.

“Ah, Stam! Hubba Erumendaduh, ol behee!” said DZ through a mouthful of pastry. “Surry,” he added as he gave an enormous swallow. “I said, Ah, Stan! Happy Elementia Day, old buddy!”

“Thanks, DZ,” said Stan with a smile. “I can’t believe it’s really been four months.”

“Four months ago today,” replied DZ, imitating Archie’s deep announcing voice, which he would use at the ceremony in the park later that evening, “the moon was dark, as it is tonight. On that day, our beloved president, Stan2012, defeated the tyrannical King Kev in battle and created the Grand Republic of Elementia. Now, four new moons later, we celebrate that victory!”

“That’s actually pretty good.” Charlie laughed. “What kind of stuff does Archie have planned for this Elementia Day?”

“Well, there’s the usual pig races, sparring tournament, and re-enactment of the battle,” said DZ, “but I think we all know that the highlight of today is gonna be the Mechanist’s new Tennis Machine.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, but I gotta say, I’m excited about the races too,” said Charlie. “I put down a big bet against Kat saying that Bob is gonna win the race.”

“Really? What about Zoey and Porky?” Stan asked, referring to an acclaimed racer and her pig.

“Yeah, that’s a good point, Charlie,” said DZ. “Those two’ve won that race every Elementia Day so far, and this is Bob’s first time. What makes you think he’s gonna win?”

“’Cause it’s Bob!” replied Charlie. “He’s got a stronger bond with Ivanhoe than any I’ve seen, and that includes Kat and Rex.”

“To that note,” replied Stan, “where is she, anyway?” Kat was usually the first one up in the morning, and none of them had seen her yet today.

“I saw her leaving the castle really early this morning with G. I can’t say she looked very happy about it. He looked hyped, though,” answered DZ.

Charlie sighed. “Those two … they’re just …”

“I know, man,” DZ cut in, shaking his head. “Some people just don’t have any class,” he added wisely.

“DZ, you have pumpkin flesh dripping from your left nostril,” Stan pointed out as he pressed the refrigerator button. A pumpkin pie popped out, which he caught in mid-air.

“I really don’t think it’s Kat’s fault, though,” said Charlie as DZ wiped the orange goo from his upper lip. “G is just overly clingy. I honestly don’t get why she puts up with him.”

“Well, I think she’s just …” started Stan, but he was cut off when Archie burst into the room, his chest heaving from lack of breath.

“Ah, Archie! All set for the big day, are we?” asked DZ as he wiped the pumpkin goo off his finger and onto his trousers.

“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m here,” said Archie in one breath.

Stan suddenly stood up straight. He knew something was wrong. “Archie, what happened?” he asked.

“Ben just sent me a messenger. Apparently when he sent a scout to report to him on the condition at the Jungle Base last night, the scout came back and told him the base had been hijacked.”

“WHAT?” Stan asked, dropping the rest of his pie on the ground. “What happened? Who took over the base?”

“Well, the scout said that when he approached the base, he was shot at by figures in black tunics and caps that were patrolling the watchtower on top.”

The room was filled for a moment by a stunned silence. Then DZ threw his hands in the air and yelled, “Oh, come on!”

“Do you mean to tell me that our Jungle Base was taken over by the Noctem Alliance?” asked Charlie, his face reflecting his shell-shocked disbelief.

“It would seem so,” replied Archie gravely. “It looks like not only is the Alliance still alive, but it’s powerful.”

“It’s not possible!” cried Stan. His stomach had knotted up, and he was beginning to sweat as he started to think about what this information meant. “The Jungle Base is one of our most fortified! All twenty of the guards in there were skilled fighters with enough armour and gear to fight at maximum capacity!”

“That’s not all,” added Archie, the fear in his voice almost tangible. “One of the Noctem soldiers was Leonidas, Stan.”

“What the what!” shouted DZ. “Leonidas is dead! Wasn’t he killed at the battle along with the rest of RAT1? Right? Stan?”

But Stan was staring at Charlie in horror, who returned with a stare of absolute astonishment. Their eyes locked, and it was clear that they were both thinking the same thing. The military had, after investigation, concluded that Leonidas had been killed in Becca’s TNT trap at the Battle for Elementia. The police had determined the same thing. There was only one source in the kingdom who had stated that Leonidas was still alive, a source Charlie had talked Stan into disregarding.

“You weren’t just hallucinating that night, were you, Stan,” said Charlie. It was not a question. Even Stan, who had brushed off the nocturnal visit by Sally’s voice as nothing but a delusion brought on by fatigue, now knew perfectly well that everything he had heard was indeed Sally trying to contact him from beyond the server.

“What are you talking about?” asked Archie, in a nervous, alarmed voice.

“Yeah, what are you talking about, Charlie?” asked DZ, his face taking on an uncharacteristically freaked-out look.

“Stan …”

Stan leaped up. That voice did not belong to Charlie. It did not belong to Archie or DZ, either. And, based on a quick look around the room, he was the only one to hear it.

“What?” Charlie asked, looking at Stan in panic. Stan paid no notice to any of them. He was already sprinting down the hallway, taking a sharp left, and bolting into his room. He needed this conversation to be private.

“Sally? Is that you?”

“Stan … I don’t … much … time …” Sally’s voice from nowhere was punctuated by bursts of static, and Stan could barely make out what she was saying. “Noctem … Alliance … alive …”

“I know Sally, I know!” cried Stan. “They just took over our Jungle Base!”

“I know … but … another … attack … inbound …” Her voice was barely audible over the now loud static. It was as if somebody was trying to jam her signal.

“Don’t … know … heard … fragments … tennis … danger … losing … I … contact … you … later …” There was a burst of static, and then a pop, and Sally was gone.

Stan’s head was spinning. The Noctem Alliance had attacked them, and another attack was incoming. And she had also said something about the Tennis Machine! What did that mean? Regardless, after the attack on the Jungle Base that apparently was led by Leonidas, Stan had no qualms about deciphering the information given to him by Sally, and acting on it.

“Stan, what happened?” Archie asked when Stan walked back into the common room. “Charlie told us that you’ve been in contact with Sally? How is that? She’s dead, Stan.”

“I know that, but somehow she’s found a way to partially hack her way back onto the server, and I can hear her voice,” said Stan, ignoring the looks of scepticism on Archie’s and DZ’s faces. “She contacted me once before, and told me that Leonidas was alive, and that he and Caesar were raising some kind of force. I thought I was dreaming it at first, but then it turns out that a well-equipped force led by Leonidas just took over the Jungle Base! It can’t just be a coincidence.”

Archie and DZ were staring at Stan wide-eyed, knowing that he was telling the truth even though they weren’t sure how it could be possible.

“OK, we get that,” said Charlie after a moment, “but what did she say to you just then? That is why you ran out, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Stan replied. “She just told me an attack was incoming, and that the Tennis Machine was a danger.”

There was a pause. Then …

“Are you losing your mind, Stan?” asked DZ.

“Stan, how can the Tennis Machine be a danger? It’s just a recreation thing,” reasoned Charlie.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t the one who said it!” yelled Stan.

“OK, OK, let’s disregard that for a second,” said Archie. “What was that about an inbound attack?”

“I don’t know,” said Stan. “Her voice was cut off by static half the time.”

“Stan, it’d be nice if your dead girlfriend could be a little less vague,” said DZ with an exasperated chuckle.

“Well, seeing as we don’t have any real idea what the upcoming attack is, or when it’s coming, I say the only thing we can really do is prepare our military,” said Charlie. “I’ll alert the soldiers to do double duty in patrolling our walls, and I’ll send messengers out to tell all our outposts to do the same. DZ, can you go and tell Ben to get the police to step it up, too?”

“Aye aye, Captain,” replied DZ, and he stood up and crossed the room to the door that led to the stairwell with the courtyard at the bottom.

“What do you want me to do, Charlie?” asked Archie. Stan’s eyebrow twitched. He almost resented that Archie asked for a command from Charlie rather than him. On the other hand, he did feel rather disgruntled at the moment, and it probably showed.

“I want you to go out and finish the preparations,” said Charlie with a grin. “We’ve still got to have Elementia Day, don’t we?”

“That we do,” boomed Archie, and he swept out of the room after DZ.

“I’m gonna see what I can do to reconnect with Sally,” said Stan. “Maybe she can tell us more about this attack.”

“Good thinking, Stan,” said Charlie as he stood up and went the way of Archie and DZ.

Stan walked out of the common room back to his quarters, and he lay down on the bed. Stan focused all his being on Sally, hoping there was some iota of chance that she could reconnect with him.

But Sally didn’t reconnect with him. Not in his bedroom, not when Archie told him it was time for the celebrations to begin, not during the pig race when Charlie won his bet against Kat that Bob would win, and not during the sparring tournament. Stan found it difficult to think of anything else. It was as if the players in the crowd were on a TV that Stan wasn’t really watching.

Stan kept telling himself he wanted to contact Sally for the sake of intelligence on the impending attack. Really, though, the reason was that he wanted nothing more in the world than to hear her voice again. Perhaps, although it seemed impossible, they could discover some way that Sally might rejoin Elementia.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” boomed Archie’s deep voice, cutting through Stan’s thoughts like a knife, “President Stan2012 will take the stage for the re-enactment of the great battle between himself and the tyrannical King Kev.”

Stan sighed. This was perhaps his least favourite part of the ceremonies, yet, for some reason, it tended to be one of the most popular. Although the people of the republic had been loud and rambunctious in the ceremonies all day, the loudest cacophony of cheers and praises rang out now, as Stan climbed the stairs up to the imitation bridge that had been constructed at the centre of the park.

The re-enactment had only been added last Elementia Day. Blackraven had suggested that it was fitting that the people of Elementia celebrate how their beloved republic came to be, and that Stan himself should play his own part in the play. Stan was still determined to give his people the show they loved, despite how uncomfortable it made him to relive the deaths of his friends.

He looked down the bridge at the actor dressed now as King Kev. It was a different actor this month, Stan noted. Although it was impossible to tell two players with the same skin apart at a glance, it was possible to tell by truly examining their eyes. Every player’s eyes had a unique gleam to them.

Stan, who had earlier been adorned in diamond armour with two iron axes strapped to his back just as they had been the day he had challenged King Kev, drew one of these axes now. The King’s eyebrow twitched, as scripted, and Stan charged down the stone bridge towards the King Kev doppelgänger. The King’s sword was drawn, as was necessary, and, at the right point, Stan threw the axe at the actor’s head. The actor dive-rolled to the side and was then supposed to raise his diamond sword to counter the downward blow from Stan’s axe.

Instead, the actor thrust the sword upwards into the handle of Stan’s axe and gave it a sharp twist, sending Stan’s weapon spiralling to the side, just as the Avery actor grabbed Stan from behind in a full nelson and raised his own diamond sword to Stan’s throat.

There was a horrified silence in the crowd for a moment, before screams began to erupt. All throughout the crowd, figures were buttoning on black tunics and pulling on black caps. They held blue-grey Potions of Slowness in their hands. Stan, even with his limited movement, could see that the black figures had enough radius to neutralize the entire crowd of thousands if need be.

The King Kev actor picked up Stan’s axe, attached it to his belt, and then picked up his own sword. The instant it touched his hand, the sword darkened to black to match the tunic and cap the actor had pulled on. The King Kev actor cleared his throat, and spoke. “My name is Emerick, corporal of the Noctem Alliance. My agents and I have captured and taken your president hostage. As such, I now claim this city in the name of the Noctem Alliance and its leader, Lord Tenebris.”

And through the stunned silence of the crowd around the imitation bridge, all the black figures gave the same unanimous cry that had haunted Stan’s nightmares.

“VIVA LA NOCTEM!”

CHAPTER 7
THE COUP

With the sword held against his neck, Stan could barely breathe, let alone turn his head to see the looks of terror on his citizens’ faces. Stan willed himself not to panic. He knew this bold attack by the Noctem Alliance would ultimately be useless.

Even as Stan thought this, arrows flew from the plain-dressed guards Stan had positioned throughout the crowd, an added security measure suggested by Gobbleguy. Stan saw with a painful glance that several of the Noctem troopers who had been holding the crowd at bay with potions had already been felled by arrows, and the rest had disappeared in bursts of fire.

Stan felt the grip around his neck loosen, and he broke out of the Avery actor’s chokehold. Spinning around, Stan found him dead on the ground, an arrow protruding from his forehead. Stan lunged sideways and scooped up the dead actor’s sword.

“Pursue the attackers!” Stan bellowed at the guards in the crowd, who pocketed their bows and began chasing the remaining attackers, who were fleeing the scene. A small smile crossed Stan’s face as he turned his attention to the Noctem corporal named Emerick who, inexplicably, was returning the expression.

This didn’t sit well with Stan, and his own smile vanished. “Why are you smiling?” Stan demanded. “Your troops are dead and your little hostile takeover lasted less than ten seconds. What part of this do you find amusing, exactly?”

Emerick’s smile just grew, and in a matter of seconds a low, evil chuckle sounded from the Noctem corporal. Stan suddenly felt a surge of rage towards Emerick and the Noctem Alliance that he served. His attempt to seize power had failed, yet he still found something to be happy about? Was this some sort of trick?

Stan lunged forwards, sword in hand, ready to sink it deep into Corporal Emerick, but the corporal feinted backwards faster than Stan had ever seen a player move before, and with one jump, he launched himself high over the crowd. A series of black orbs, barely visible against the black sky, flew from Corporal Emerick’s hand and hit the ground in a burst of fire. As he disappeared into the smoke from the fire charges, Stan barely made out the faint blue and orange smoke curling off his back.

No! Stan thought. If he’s using Potions of Swiftness and Fire Resistant, how am I gonna catch him? Corporal Emerick was clearly the head of the operation, and Stan knew that bringing him to trial was imperative. Stan then noticed the possessions of the Avery actor lying on the ground behind him. After a moment of rummaging, Stan found what he was looking for. Wasting no time, he poured the two potions into his mouth, and leaped into the flames after the corporal.

Stan, having never drunk the Potion of Swiftness, or QPO, before, was amazed by how lighthearted and free he felt. It was as if he could do no wrong, and he instantly felt that regaining the huge lead Corporal Emerick had taken would be nothing short of easy. Stan recognized the pleasant tickling sensation that came from running through the flames the fire charges had left on the ground.

As Stan burst from the smoke, he saw Corporal Emerick sprinting full speed down the main street, a trail of blue and orange fumes in his wake. Stan followed in pursuit, his own feet feeling like they weighed nothing under the effects of the potion. He soon realized he was not alone. Stan glanced behind him and saw DZ and Archie running alongside him, trailing blue wisps of smoke themselves.

“Hey, Stan!” said Archie, surprising Stan. He hadn’t realized the potion enabled them to talk easily while running.

“Hey, Archie,” said Stan with a grim smirk. “Sorry all your plans got ruined.”

“Honestly, I’m just thankful we all got out alive,” Archie replied.

“So nobody got hurt in the attack, then?” asked Stan.

“Nah, our snipers took ’em all down,” said DZ. “I gotta say, if this is the Noctem Alliance’s idea of an attack, then we really ain’t got too much to worry about.”

“I’m still getting over the fact that the organization still exists,” said Stan, his face reflecting the worry boiling within him. “I gotta be honest, these Noctem guys have shown that they can be both really smart and really rash and dumb.”

“That’s a good point,” said Archie, a frown crossing his skeleton face. “One day they override the redstone circuits of the courthouse, something we still haven’t figured out, and the next, they pull something like this? I mean, this was, like, the worst-thought-out offensive of all time!”

“It scares me, to be honest,” said Stan, speaking truthfully as they rounded a curve, following the corporal onto the main street of the government district. “When there are inconsistencies like this, it makes it hard to draw patterns. Are these guys from the Noctem Alliance smart or not? And, more important, are they a serious danger to the city?”

“Well, hopefully this little jerk’ll give us some answers. Look where he went.” DZ smirked, pointing as Emerick disappeared into the front doors of the Avery Memorial Courthouse.

Stan’s heart roared in triumph. The courthouse walls were made of obsidian. Corporal Emerick had just trapped himself in the building.

As they ran up the front steps of the courthouse, DZ yelled out, “Here, Stan!” and Stan saw something blue and brown flying out of DZ’s hand. Stan caught it and recognized it as his own diamond axe. He nodded a quick thanks to DZ, holding it in his hand as he pocketed the sword he had been carrying. DZ drew out two glowing diamond swords, and Archie drew his bow. The trio burst into the courthouse. Stan reached back without checking his speed and, in one movement, punched a painting off the wall near the door and pulled down the switch hidden behind it. The iron doors of the courthouse slammed shut behind them. Stan heard the mechanical whirs of various other mechanisms within the building ensuring that escape would be impossible until Stan input the security code.

The effects of the potion were beginning to wear off. Stan, Archie and DZ walked into the main courtroom immediately adjacent to the entrance hall, which was the only room in the building. The room sat stagnant as ever, the same rotunda of wooden seats around the main floor. Obsidian pillars stood looming in the middle of the rotunda seats. The Noctem leader could be hidden behind any of the seats, or any of the pillars, Stan realized.

Stan, Archie and DZ looked at one another in silence. A series of eye and head gestures seemed to indicate that splitting up was in order. As DZ snuck around the pillars and Archie stood ready to shoot at a split second’s notice, Stan crept through the seats, methodically and meticulously checking behind each and every row. However, the search yielded no results, and a quick shout down to DZ confirmed that his search had been equally unsuccessful.

Stan was stumped. Corporal Emerick was clearly somewhere within the room, but Stan had checked all the hiding places. From where he was standing, Stan could see the entire courtroom, including behind every single seat. He saw DZ and Archie checking around the pillars for a second time, and the looks of bewilderment on their faces were indicating that it was to no avail. Where was …

“AAAAUUUGH!”

Stan almost stumbled forwards off the seats at the yell from DZ that echoed throughout the rotunda. A pained grimace had taken to DZ’s face, and he was clutching at his arm, staring in surprise at the arrow that had just sunk into it. Stan whipped his head to the side, wildly thinking for a moment that Archie had betrayed them, but his skeletal face showed surprise to mirror DZ’s and his own.

Stan heard a whizzing sound, and he turned in time to see an arrow flying out of the vacant seats towards his face. Stan lunged to the side, the arrow sinking into the wall behind him. Sheathing his axe and drawing his bow, he tried to distinguish the source of the arrow. As he stared intently at the place where the arrow had originated, utterly confused and terrified as to what was happening, he noticed something from the corner of his eye. An iron sword, having materialized in mid-air in the middle of the rotunda floor, was now flying across the room, on a collision course with Archie’s back.

“Archie, hit the dirt!” Stan bellowed. Archie did so without hesitation, and the sword soared over him just as Stan sent an arrow towards the sword’s point of origin. The arrow connected. Stan heard a grunt of pain as the arrow found its unseen mark. Stan saw Corporal Emerick flicker into visibility for an instant, with an aggrieved look on his face, before vanishing once again.

“Guys, he’s there!” Stan yelled, directing DZ’s and Archie’s attention to the place where an arrow was being yanked out of the unseen player’s shoulder and tossed to the ground. “You can’t see him, but he’s there!”

Recognition flashed across Archie’s face. “He’s using an Invisibility Potion!” he cried, sending an arrow towards the invisible corporal, which Emerick sidestepped. Now that Stan knew where Emerick was, he was certain he could see a slight shimmering, as if heat were rising off of pavement, wherever the invisible player was. Stan saw Emerick darting across the room. A visible diamond sword appeared from thin air in what Stan assumed was his hand, flying right towards Stan himself. Stan drew his own axe to engage the corporal in combat.

This was easily the most bizarre fight Stan had ever been in, and considering what he had endured on his campaign to overthrow King Kev, that was saying something. Stan could not determine any distinct part of the invisible enemy he was fighting. It was all Stan could do to raise his axe to counterattack the levitating diamond sword, which was making floating jabs and slices.

Stan felt his legs being swept out from under him, and he knew that Corporal Emerick had swept his invisible foot underneath Stan’s own. Stan tumbled to the floor, barely raising his axe in time to block the sword that was coming down onto his neck. As Stan struggled to regain his upright footing, he felt an invisible foot pinning his chest to the ground. Stan felt he was being drained of all energy as his blood rushed from his heart in a wave.

Just as Stan was about to determine that it was too much, that he couldn’t fight any more, the pressure lifted the slightest bit. This gave Stan the opportunity to fling himself upwards and onto his feet. The corporal tumbled down the rotunda seats, a shimmering marking his place as well as the arrow sticking from his shoulder blade.

Stan’s vision on the rotunda floor refocused on DZ trying to mend the wound from the arrow he had pulled from his unarmoured bicep, but he did not see Archie by DZ’s side. Stan saw Archie firing arrow after arrow at the place he assumed the crumpled form of the corporal lay. A black tunic shielded the onslaught of arrows. As the floating tunic crept further and further backwards towards the door, Archie advanced on him at a much faster pace.

Having the upper hand, however, had made Archie overconfident. Just as Corporal Emerick was backed up against the locked doors, a potion bottle came flying out of nowhere as the black tunic disappeared into a newly created plume of black smoke. The potion slammed into Archie’s red-haired skeleton head and exploded into a cloud of blue-grey smoke. He keeled over to the ground, clutching his head in agony. DZ rushed in to help Archie, but Stan was staring in horror at a lever that he had never noticed before on the wall. This lever was in the On position.

Fear coursed through Stan. He had fought far too many players who utilized explosive traps in their surroundings to not know one when he saw one. He and his friends needed to evacuate the courthouse immediately. His shout of “RUN!” was deadened by the explosion in the centre of the rotunda seats behind him.

Stan didn’t even have time to look towards his two friends when the wave of fire slammed into his back. He was launched forward at breakneck speed through the two doorframes that had held iron doors seconds before. Stan felt himself tumbling wildly through space, only stopping when he was thrown down into a viscous substance. As he opened his eyes, he realized that he had landed in the bottommost pool of the Apothecary Memorial Fountain. Although it sat a distance from the doors of the courthouse, it still had one of its sides blasted away by the explosion. Stan let the current of the gushing fountain carry him down to the road. Everything ached at once from the sheer force of being caught in that blast. However, as Stan turned his head to the side, he saw something that rendered all his pain irrelevant.

He could see two shadowy figures sitting not far away from him in the darkness. One appeared to be shaking the other, who was limp and unresponsive. Stan’s forehead immediately broke out in sweat, as did his palms. The horribly familiar feeling of dread bubbled up inside him, threatening to boil over as he ran to the two figures. He saw DZ, uncharacteristically shell-shocked, holding Archie’s body in shaking hands, a ring of items lying around them haphazardly.

Four months ago, when Stan had stood in the tower of Element Castle alongside the Apothecary, King Kev had chosen to kill himself rather than die at the hands of Stan. The magnitude of the alarm that had struck Stan at that point could only be described in two words: shock and awe. Now, seeing DZ sobbing as he shook Archie’s dead body, demanding that he wake up, another round of shock and awe whipped Stan across the face like a white-hot iron. Six hours ago, Stan had believed the Noctem Alliance no longer existed. Now, their leader had just killed one of his friends.

As Stan realized this, he became aware of a presence watching him. As the shock gave way to fury – pure, unfiltered hatred – Stan whipped his head upwards to look into the smirking face of Corporal Emerick.

Stan’s body acted on its own. His axe flew from his side and into his hand as he charged the Noctem corporal. He brought his axe down onto that hatefully smug face, hoping to put as much pain as possible into the strike, only to have Emerick sidestep the attack. His axe collided with the stone ground with enough force to snap the diamond blade from the handle.

As Stan spat in fury, Corporal Emerick calmly pulled a blood-red Potion of Harming from his inventory and raised it to his lips. Realizing what he was about to do, Stan shot his fist at the corporal’s mouth, shattering the potion bottle and splattering the ground crimson. Stan was so absolutely insane with rage that the force of the punch sent him stumbling forwards. He spun around on his heel to find that the corporal had already drawn another red potion and raised it to his mouth.

Stan’s shout had barely left his mouth when the bottle tilted back and the potion entered the Noctem officer’s mouth, just as a flurry of green bottles flew from the corporal’s free hand. The effect was immediate. A ring of items burst from his navel, and Corporal Emerick fell forwards onto his knees, and then onto his face. Stan bellowed in fury, distressed beyond comprehension, and in a rush he felt himself fall to the ground, vaguely aware of a cloud of green gas swirling around him before he saw black.

CHAPTER 8
TENSIONS

“Honestly, sir, you’re being unreasonable!”

“Please, just go back, lie down! You’ve been through a lot these past few hours, and you’re not thinking straight!”

Stan didn’t hear them. He was completely deaf to the objections of his two aides as he marched down the corridor and away from the castle infirmary. It killed him to think that while he had been lying in a bed, being detoxed of the effects of Corporal Emerick’s final poison attack, his friends had been sitting in a council room discussing what to do about the atrocities committed by the Noctem Alliance. In his desperation to get into the council room, he finally spun around to face the aides.

“Enough!” Stan bellowed, harsher than he had anticipated. The aides staggered backwards with fear in their eyes as Stan’s hand had instinctively glided to the axe handle by his side. He was too infuriated to give them the luxury of an apology. The Noctem Alliance had killed Archie, and the only thing he cared about at that moment was destroying the organization once and for all. The aides now did nothing to stop Stan as he jammed his fist into the button on the wall, opening the double doors and granting him access to the council room.

The depression hanging in the room was plain, and this was reflected on the faces of the seven players sitting around the table. DZ, Gobbleguy, the Mechanist and Charlie sat next to one another in a row. Their expressions were forlorn, and seemed more weary than sad. To their left, however, was a totally different story. Jayden and G were Archie’s best friends, and they did nothing to hide the fact that they had been crying over his death. Their eyes still red and puffy, they exuded an aura of grief and anger. Stan felt the terrible sensation of likening their emotions to his own when he had learned of Sally’s death.

Only when Stan’s eyes lingered on Kat, however, did he stop for a moment. She seemed filled with the same depressed exhaustion that Charlie and DZ were giving off, but there was a distinct note of discomfort on her face as well. As Stan pondered what it could be that was causing this, he noticed that she was shooting a stream of uneasy glances in the direction of G, who was sitting next to her. All of Stan’s curiosity vanished in an instant, to be replaced with irritation. Kat merely had a problem with G. Worrying about such things at a time like this was unthinkable.

“Hey, Stan,” said DZ, his voice devoid of its usual cheery, upbeat quality. “They let you out of the hospital early?”

“I checked myself out,” Stan mumbled in reply. “They say I should still be there, but I feel fine.” Nobody was foolish enough to disagree with him.

As Stan walked over and took his seat between Charlie and Kat, he looked up and a sob erupted from his throat without warning. Sitting directly across from his seat at the table was the chair normally occupied by Archie – empty. It was at that moment that it hit Stan like a wrecking ball: Archie was gone, and he could never again return to Elementia. Grief welled up within Stan yet again, only to be immediately replaced with more rage at the Noctem Alliance. The reason he was there flooded into Stan, and he turned to Charlie, a gleam of fire in his eye.

“Is the city secure?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Charlie. He sounded beat. “Bill, Ben and Bob have the city on lockdown. There are patrols on all the walls, and nobody’s allowed in or out of the gates until we say so. They also have officers searching the entire city, making arrests and interrogating anybody who may be linked to the attack. So far” – Charlie let out a sigh – “they haven’t found anybody. Eleven fighters were part of the attack, including Corporal Emerick. All of them died rather than be captured.”

Stan’s heart sank. He hadn’t really been expecting anything else, but it still infuriated him that he had no way of capturing these players and interrogating them. Stan was just about to make a remark to that effect when the door flew open behind him. He spun around to see Blackraven marching into the room, a book in his hand and a triumphant smile on his face.

The effect of his arrival on the rest of the room was immediate. Stan felt all those sitting nearest him on the table immediately tense up, shooting a dirty glance in Blackraven’s direction. Across from them, Jayden and G also snapped upright in their seats, but their anger seemed to be more directed at their fellow councilmen around the table than at Blackraven. Stan realized with a start that he must have missed something in the time he had spent recovering. After all, this was a closed council meeting, and Blackraven was not on the council. Something serious must have happened.

“Here it is, it is right here, Charlie!” said Blackraven, barely suppressed joy in his voice, and brandishing his finger to a page in the open book. “Even you can’t deny what is written in the ultimate law of the land!”

“For the last time, Blackraven, it is not happening,” whispered Charlie harshly, a vein twitching in his temple. Stan was alarmed to see Charlie’s quiet fury. “There is absolutely no reason to do something that extreme now that the crisis is over.”

“Excuse me,” cut in Stan, “but what’s going on here? Blackraven, what are you doing here? This is a private council meeting!”

“I am well aware of that, Stan,” replied Blackraven, plopping himself down squarely into Archie’s vacant seat, “and so I figure that I had best be here for it, considering that I am now a part of the council.”

“Get out of his chair!” barked Charlie. Kat gave a little squeak of horror at the outburst, and Gobbleguy broke into tears. “You are not a part of this council, Blackraven, and to try to suggest it would make you a traitor!”

“You are accusing me of treachery, Charlie?” bellowed Blackraven, standing up to stare Charlie down from across the table. “I only want what is best for Elementia, and I would like to see action taken against our enemies quickly, without wandering through the political swamp of your bureaucratic elections!”

“Are you aware, Blackraven,” responded Charlie, kicking back his seat to stare the bird-man in the eye, “that those elections are the only thing keeping Elementia from turning into a dictatorship, like the one that we fought to take down just four months ago?”

“ENOUGH!” screamed Stan. Without thinking, he pulled the ceremonial golden axe from its sheath and brought it down into the table between Charlie and Blackraven. The golden blade snapped from the handle and fell onto the table with a loud clang. Stan didn’t care. He wasn’t even sure what they were arguing about, but he knew that if they were to deal with the Noctem Alliance, they could not be fighting with each other. The room fell silent. All were staring at Stan with humbled looks on their faces. He was the president, and it was his turn to speak.

“No more yelling!” said Stan, speaking in such a way that he was breaking his own rule. “We are the ones in charge of running Elementia, and right now we have to deal with the fallout of this attack. Anything that we need to discuss, we can discuss it like responsible people.” Stan turned his head to Blackraven. “Now, Blackraven, why do you think that you’re on the council? Council members don’t just join, they’re elected by the people.”

“Thank you, Stan! You see, that’s what I’m—” started Charlie, but Stan raised a hand to cut him off.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that, Stan,” replied Blackraven, smirking at Charlie. “But this is a special case. It says so, right here in the Constitution.” And he held up his book so that Stan could see the words The Constitution of the Republic of Elementia, by Bookbinder55, on the front cover. Blackraven pointed to a spot on the open page and began to read.

“‘All members of the Council of Eight, a group of eight players whose job it is to run Element City and the rest of Elementia, shall be elected by conducting a vote among the entire population of the server, UNLESS …’” he said with emphasis, as Charlie had opened his mouth to interject, “‘the server of Elementia is in a state of emergency. In that case, the council may appoint a temporary member until the emergency is resolved.’”

“Dude, we keep telling you, we ain’t in a state of emergency any more!” said DZ, his eyes wide with frustration. “The police’ve got the city secure, and the Alliance is gone for now! Why is there still an emergency?”

“I’m sorry, are you serious?” asked Jayden, speaking for the first time and with a dark note in his voice. “Do you not realize that Archie is dead?” He hesitated for a moment, trying to keep his composure. “G and I have known him since we first started playing this game. We thought that … when we lost Sally …” Jayden’s jaw was trembling, and tears were slowly leaking from his eyes, but he pressed on, “that we would never have to go through that again. But …”

“But now Archie is gone too,” continued G as Jayden became too distraught to continue. “The Noctem Alliance took Archie from us, just like King Kev took Sally. And now you expect us to just sit here and go through an election while the people who killed our friend are still out there?”

“Jayden, G, I understand what you’re saying,” said Stan evenly, trying to hide his alarm that the two of them were taking Blackraven’s side. “But you know, you’re not the only ones who’re upset that Archie’s gone, and the fact that he is doesn’t mean …”

“Oh, please, don’t even try, Stan!” cried Jayden, whose red face was now knitted in anger. “You don’t care that he’s dead as much as we do, don’t even pretend that you do! If you did, you’d agree with us without even thinking about it!”

“That’s out of line, Jayden!” seethed the Mechanist, jumping to Stan’s defence. “Stan is devastated, as we all are, that Archie is dead! He’s just keeping a level head and trying to preserve the values of our country instead of acting out of rash hatred!”

“But we deserve the right to act out of rash hatred!” bellowed Jayden, his face contorted. “The Noctem Alliance killed Archie, and we want justice to be served!”

“What you’re speaking of is not justice, Jayden!” the Mechanist countered. “You are thinking of nothing but revenge! Justice is keeping a level head and determining the best course of action to ensure that no further tragedies occur. The revenge you speak of, however, is taking action blindly, without sight of future consequences, thinking only of what is best for you!”

“Do you even hear yourselves?” shouted Blackraven. “It’s not like I’m asking for anything crazy or over the top! All that I ask is that, in recognition of the fact that the Alliance is dangerous and must be disposed of, I am appointed to the council … temporarily, of course … so that we can take immediate action against them, instead of having to wait for days as we organize elections.”

Charlie, Jayden and the Mechanist all opened their mouths to respond to this, but Stan cut in first. “Enough talk,” he said firmly. “Let’s put it to a vote. We’ll go around the table, and each take a vote as to whether we should allow Blackraven to become an unelected councilman for the time being, or to abide by the constitution and set up an election tomorrow for a new council member to replace Archie. A majority of five votes will decide.”

In his mind, Stan knew that he would never be comfortable with Blackraven joining the council unelected. As he looked around the table, though, he was quite confident that, out of the nine of them, only Blackraven, G and Jayden would vote in favour of it.

“Let me start off by casting my vote,” began Stan, “which is for Pro-Constitution. The country of Elementia was founded on our constitution, and the present situation is not bad enough that we should start ignoring it.” Stan turned to the person sitting to his right, Charlie.

“I also vote for Pro-Constitution,” said Charlie, his voice steely as he shot a quick dirty glance at Blackraven. Thankfully, it went unnoticed.

“My vote is for Pro-Constitution as well,” added the Mechanist, glancing at Stan and giving him a warm smile, which Stan returned. As tired, depressed and angry as he was, Stan couldn’t help but take a moment to notice how very wise and kind a person the old Mechanist was.

“I vote for Pro-Emergency Powers.”

That voice caught Stan off guard. He tore his glance away from the Mechanist and looked, to his horror, to see Gobble-guy, sitting in his chair, looking timid and afraid.

“What?” Stan couldn’t help bursting out. “Why? Why would you support emergency powers?”

“Shut up, Stan!” yelled G. “He doesn’t have to justify anything to you, it’s his vote, not yours!”

Stan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, furious with himself for his outburst, but he now felt incredibly uneasy. He had completely forgotten about Gobbleguy, the former mayor of Blackstone, who had remained completely silent throughout the debate. Why would he of all people want to support the emergency powers?

“Well, I, for one, am all in favour of keeping Elementia true to what the country was founded on. Pro-Constitution all the way, man!” yelled DZ, a little louder than he ought to, but it made Stan feel a little better. Just one more vote and they would have a majority, and the entire issue would be resolved.

The feeling did not last, however, as one by one, Blackraven, Jayden and G all cast their votes for the Pro-Emergency Powers. The votes were now tied, four to four, and the final vote would decide. All eyes at the table were now fixed on the last council member.

In his entire life, from the minute he had first met her, Stan had never seen Kat look as uncomfortable as she did at that moment. Her reluctance to enter the NPC village during their trek through the desert months ago seemed like nothing compared to the girl that Stan saw now. Kat was squirming in her seat, trying to shake the feeling that all the power was now in her hands.

“What’s your vote, Kat?” asked Stan carefully, after the silence and staring had gone on for well over a minute.

“Well I … um … I think that they both have their positives and negatives,” Kat stammered. Stan couldn’t believe it. She was still undecided? Now was his chance to ensure that the constitution was upheld.

“Kat, why are you even debating this?” he asked. “The state of emergency is over, this deserves to be done right!”

“Don’t listen to him, Kat!” replied Jayden. “Having an election now would be stupid! It would only allow time for the Noctem Alliance to regroup, which would lead to another attack, and more people being killed!”

“Kat, you were with me and Stan the entire time we were on the journey to take down King Kev,” said Charlie, a note of pleading in his voice. “We fought so hard so that we could have a constitution. Do you really want to ignore it now?”

“You’re not ignoring it, Kat!” said Blackraven. “You’d be doing the best thing for our safety, and everyone else in Elementia, by getting this done as quickly as possible!”

“Archie wouldn’t have wanted us to ignore the constitution, Kat!” shouted DZ.

“But he can’t say that for himself, because the Noctem Alliance killed him!” cried G, grabbing Kat’s shoulders and turning her to look him straight in the eye. “Think about it, Kat,” he said softly. “What if that was you who’d died? I don’t think that I could bear it.”

“Enough, all of you!” cried the Mechanist, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Kat is more than capable of making her own decision, so everybody, stop talking! Kat, what is your vote?”

Kat had not said a word throughout the entire debate, but as she detached herself from G, she now looked more lost for words than ever. She looked slowly around the table, eyebrows knitted in confusion, sweat rolling down her forehead. Her eyes passed over the faces of all her fellows before finally resting on G, who raised his eyebrows expectantly. Kat opened her mouth, and it hung open for a moment, before …

“I vote … Pro-Emergency Powers,” she muttered in a resigned, uncomfortable voice.

A ripple of shock emanated from Kat and made its way across the room. Stan felt as if he had just been slapped across the face. Kat, one of his best friends, who had fought long and hard alongside him to instate the constitution of Elementia, was now voting against it. He glared at her, and caught her eye for a moment. She seemed embarrassed and tense, and soon broke the connection to hug G, which did not seem to ease her tension or embarrassment at all. Stan gave a subtle scowl, and shot a determinedly neutral look at Blackraven as he lowered himself into Archie’s chair, a faint air of smugness about him.

Stan was hardly listening as Blackraven dived straight into his ideas for hunting down the Noctem Alliance. After all, Stan trusted Blackraven as a strategist, and he knew that together with DZ and Charlie, the other two gifted strategists, they would figure out the best way to hunt down the remaining members of the Noctem Alliance.

It was undoubted, however, that something had changed within the council. The nine of them had always gotten along as friends, ever since the rebellion against King Kev. They had had their minor issues, sure, but they were always on the same side. This had been the way the council was, and it had served Elementia very well.

Now, as Stan looked around the table at the Council of Eight, he saw a divided group. As Blackraven spoke on, Charlie was huddled in deep conversation with the Mechanist, while Jayden and G did the same. The two groups kept shooting dirty looks at each other. DZ glared down at the table, a brooding expression on his face, while Gobbleguy looked straight-up terrified at all that had gone down. And Stan was sure Kat was feeling a lot of things at that point, but no feeling was as evident as the discomfort reflected on her face as G hugged her in thanks for her support.

Even Stan himself felt like he had been torn apart from half the group. He could never see eye to eye with G, Jayden and Blackraven, and he would have a hard time forgiving Gobbleguy too. And Kat … what Kat had done was outright betrayal, and he had no idea where they were going to go next.

As Stan looked around and saw all his friends arguing, it scared him more than a little bit. They were in the midst of fighting a war against an evil terrorist organization that had killed one of their own, and if they couldn’t even cooperate with one another to take their common enemy down, then how was the Republic of Elementia possibly going to survive?

CHAPTER 9
THE BATTLE OF THE BASE

“I just don’t understand!” cried Leonidas. “Since I came out here, nothin’ you’ve had me do has made any sense!”

“The decisions are not mine, Leonidas,” replied Caesar, a note of irritation in his voice as he paced the main floor of the Jungle Base. “Lord Tenebris has assured me that he has a plan that will make complete sense in retrospect, but will only succeed if you, Minotaurus and I follow his instructions to the letter!”

“Are ya tellin’ me he hasn’t told ya stuff? Ya know, ya being his right-hand man and all?” asked Leonidas.

“I never said that,” replied Caesar coolly. “As the apprentice of Lord Tenebris, I naturally have access to more information than either you or Minotaurus.”

“So why can’t ya tell me?” asked Leonidas, exasperation ripe in his voice. “I’ve done all this stuff that seems ridiculous to me! Takin’ over this base, sendin’ half my guys into Element City just to kill themselves. And now you’re takin’ even more of my guys back with ya?” For that was the reason Caesar had made the journey out to the Jungle Base. He was to collect half the men remaining there with Leonidas for use in a separate mission of his own.

“Now see here, Leonidas—” started Caesar, but Leonidas cut in.

“NO!” he bellowed, his anger over running around the server on blind instructions finally bursting forwards. “I will not see here! The three of us went into this as equals, ya know! There is no reason why ya should get to be best pals with Lord Tenebris while I go around and do your dirty work!”

“Enough!” yelled Caesar aggressively, whipping his glowing diamond sword from its sheath and driving it forwards into Leonidas’s leather armour, pinning him against the wall. Leonidas was dumbstruck. He had not expected the conversation to turn hostile.

“Leonidas, when we joined this organization,” spoke Caesar, a fearsome power radiating from him, “we pledged that we would do whatever it took to return Elementia to its former glory, and to subjugate all the lower-level scum! Your role in the plan of Lord Tenebris is to be a field commander, while mine is to be an adviser and an apprentice. If you take issue with that, then you are a threat to the Alliance, and you know how I deal with threats to the Alliance,” he finished with a growl, punctuating each word with another poke of the sword into Leonidas’s armour.

Leonidas’s and Caesar’s eyes were locked, neither player willing to back down. Leonidas was conflicted. He was not scared of Caesar. He was positive that, if the need arose, he himself would win in a fight. That being said, he was terrified of Lord Tenebris, having heard rumours of his limitless powers from his first days in Minecraft. As much as he hated to admit it, Leonidas realized that he had locked himself into a position of no escape. To contradict Caesar was to contradict the Noctem Alliance, and by extension Lord Tenebris himself. If he did that, he would die, plain and simple.

Recognizing defeat, Leonidas lowered his eyes. “Fine,” he mumbled, humility forced into his voice. “Take half my men. Go do whatever ya have to do.”

Caesar smiled, and slowly drew back his sword, returning it to the sheath at his side. “Now that is what I like to hear.”

Leonidas refused to give Caesar the satisfaction of a response to the quip. That, at least, was still in his power. Instead he asked a question: “So what does Lord Tenebris want me to do?”

“He wants you to stay here at the base,” replied Caesar simply. “The army of Element City will be here soon enough, as soon as they’ve recovered from the offensive on Elementia Day. When they arrive, let them take the base. Put up a fight, take as many of them down as you can … but let them win.”

Leonidas looked up. This was far too ludicrous for him not to question. “So, what? Ya want us all to die for no reason? Ya just want to give them this base back? Why? What is the point of that?”

“Oh, so silly of me! I forgot to mention one thing.” Caesar’s upper-class accent was prominent in the statement, and he followed it up with an amused chuckle. “All who remain at the base must die … except for you, my friend. When the attack comes, lead your defences, but when you are beginning to fall behind, use Ender Pearls to escape from the base, and then make your way back to Nocturia as soon as possible.”

Leonidas opened his mouth, his face showing utter disbelief. But then he closed it again. There was no point in questioning this. If Lord Tenebris wanted something done, Leonidas would have to do it, or be killed. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

“OK,” he said slowly. “So wait for Elementia to attack us, and when they do, we let them win, but I escape and head back to the capital?”

Caesar smiled. “Now you’re catching on, my friend. All right, I’d best be off.” And with that, he walked over to a hole in the stone floor and descended the wooden ladder to the hillside. Leonidas watched out the window as Caesar and five men walked down the hill into the dense jungle, continuing on until the opaque foliage finally blocked them from sight.

Leonidas sighed. Not for the first time, he sat down on the floor, his back against the temple wall, and told himself to think. This was something that seemed to happen a lot these days, as he was sitting around the Jungle Base with nothing to do.

Why was he, Leonidas, part of the Noctem Alliance? Because he had agreed to join it alongside Caesar and Minotaurus. Why did he agree to join? Because he had just lost everything in the Battle for Elementia, including his partners, Geno and Becca, and his ruler, King Kev. Why did he lose those players? Because of Stan, a piece of lower-level scum who had driven the inferior lower-level players to rebel against their masters. Why did Stan do that? Because he believed that the lower-level players deserved all the rights that the upper-level players had. And why don’t they? Because they were inferior. And why were they inferior?

Leonidas faltered for a moment. He had always accepted, without question, from the moment that he had joined RAT1, that the lower-level players were inferior. But … why? Leonidas shook his head. He didn’t need justification for that, it was simply nature, it was the reason he was now going through all this trouble to take down Stan. It was just the way it should be. But then … why was it that whenever he went to kill a lower-level player, who he vastly outclassed in combat skills … why did killing those players never fail to make him uneasy? Even if, in the heat of combat, Leonidas had no inhibitions, they would inevitably come back to haunt him after the fact.

Leonidas looked up and realized that all his remaining five men were gathered in front of him. He had apparently been lost in his thoughts for a while. Leonidas shook the fog from his head. There was no time to be thinking about reason. An attack from Element City was inbound, and they had to be prepared for it when it came.

“Prepare for battle, men!” Leonidas yelled, pulling himself to his feet. “Man the defensive positions, and prepare yourselves! Stan and his guys are comin’ and we’re gonna make our last stand, right here, right now!” Leonidas whipped out his bow and brandished it above his head, flourishing it up and down as he led a round of cheers at the proclamation. He felt a knot in his gut as he realized that within the day, all five of these players would be dead and he would still be alive, fleeing the scene.

Leonidas shook his head again. Don’t think, Leonidas told himself. Just defend. Just defend the base until they make their way in, and then ya can run. Leonidas climbed the ladder to the top floor of the base, which stood open to the sky and offered a gorgeous view of the setting sun.

As Leonidas took his position atop the tower, arrow nocked into his bow, he did not allow himself to think, lest he convince himself to do something against his orders. No, instead he forced himself to repeat over and over in his head the creed that had become his entire life.

Viva la Noctem, Viva la Noctem, Viva la Noctem, Viva la Noctem …

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