An enormous hoard of goblins throws themselves at the walls and gates, enraged. What did we do wrong? Why are they coming here to punish us? Have we disappointed all these brothers somehow?

  From atop the defensive wall, I stare down at the sea of bumbling green ants swarming everywhere, barrelling over all the failed defenses and each other. They fill the pit traps with their bodies, and then others march effortlessly over them. They fill the moats too. This place’s gigantic, powerful walls will never hold against this many. Soon their innumerable carcasses will pile up in impromptu ramps leading up here.

  The big ones up here with me have long run out of their little pointy sticks, sparks, or whatever other things they would usually throw down. Most have collapsed exhausted to sit and wait in a depressed, silent acceptance of the inevitable. A few stand tall, extending their hands towards the mobs below. Sparks and flames spew out, engulfing large parts of the rippling, pulsing throngs amassing below. It’s quite effective, but only a moment later, countless more of my brothers flood into the fresh voids left by the destruction.

  One of the standing big ones crumples to the ground after their magical release, seemingly worn out far past the ability to stand. He wears rings of deep, sunken darkness around his empty eyes. Are they failing him?

  “This isn’t working, Linus,” the fallen man grumbled after slightly propping himself back up with his hands.

  “We never thought it would,” another big one standing very close to me replied while continuing to spew molten death down upon my brothers.

  This one wears the same sort of soft skin as that previous dream. The exact same! It’s the same big one. His sparks and flames, it’s the same exact song! He’s so different here. Am I dreaming again? When did I even fall asleep?

  “We can’t run,” the familiar man stoically continued. “They won’t let any of us go. You already saw that the few cowardly fliers left were immediately brought down by thousands of mere thrown rocks from the hoard. The diggers were swarmed before they made it even five hundred feet under them. We’ve already collapsed all the tunnels and won’t try again. Somehow the spacial ports and skills are all inexplicably jammed. Not even I can do that, so how could we expect to break out from something that powerful? Think of everything else we’ve tried. Weeks of futile ideas and plans. We’re completely trapped. It’s hopeless.”

  “No doubt I know, but still! There must be something else we can try. Anything!” the fallen man loudly complained, a tiny bit of their previous energy and vigor returning if only to childishly rebel against fate.

  “We can take down as many of them as we can before we die,” the familiar man coldly stated. “That’s all we can do. Curse their kind to our last breath, as they’ve cursed us.”

  Another enormous ball of flames explodes below as if to punctuate his last statement. He stands tall in defiance of his doom, somehow inspiring those around him to do the same.

  No, no, no, no, no! Unacceptable! This is all wrong. My arms and legs are again stubbornly refusing to do what I command. I can’t be up here with them! My mud screams for me to be down with my brothers. Or to at least stop the madness these awful people are wrecking upon them. Why do they get to murder and kill so indiscriminately while keeping their stupid doors shut tight? Can’t they see that the little ones want to get inside? It’s not fair! It’s not right! How can I help when all I ever am is stuck?!

  Again, the scene slows, almost to a pause. My focus wraps tightly around the figure of the familiar man, intimately embracing him. His entire body repeatedly pulses with each attack. Similar to before, but also often very different. It’s not the same each time. Does he contain many different, similar songs?

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  Yes, songs! That’s how I’ll help. Steal his songs, steal his power. If not now, then later revenge will come with enough strength.

  Flash. Burst. Burn.

  Flow. Burst. Flash. Burn.

  Flow. Flow. Flow. Flow. Flow! Burst. Flash. Burn!

  The last song proves too much and tosses the familiar man off the walls like a rag doll from the blowback. Taking the brunt of the fall on his shoulder, he rolls over and groans in pain, clenching at it tightly with the opposite hand. However, after gritting his teeth hard to steel himself, he forcefully wills himself back to his feet. Despite being lost, the battle isn’t over.

  Synchronized with the man’s fall, the enormous gates nearby begin to rapidly crack and splinter. Small pieces shatter and fly off from the pounding of countless tiny fists. Soon a single small figure forces himself through a hole barely large enough to allow his passage, efficiently hacked apart by the tiny metal in his hands. An enormous, wicked, knowing smile spreads across the tiny one’s face upon spying the big one conveniently standing there alone. Sprinting with reckless abandon at the now broken, familiar man, the two combine as one into a crazy, tangled mixture of explosive violence.

  I cough and gag as my mouth empties after jerking up from lying face down in the mud. It feels as though I’ve been born again, returned back to that pit floating out in the void. My head is so groggy. I just want to go back to sleep. How am I so exhausted after resting that deeply?

  My wits slowly returning, I realize my vision is cluttered with many little bits of light.

  Is all that from the dream? Can I really practice in my dreams? Maybe I should just sleep all the time then. Right now, it certainly feels as if I could easily do that if I tried.

  Shaking a hand in front of my face, all the lights flitter away from existence. Something’s wrong, I have to get out of the pool. Slowly crawling towards my treasures, I again consider partaking of the red world stone. However, I hold myself back. It’s still too important. I can’t waste it on little bouts of sleepiness.

  What happened? I look back towards the pool of mud, perplexed. It’s always been my friend, my helper. Did something change? Oh, that’s right. I can check.

  After appraising the pool, I’m left stunned. The entire thing? How much did I actually mix last night? I was dumping them all back into the pool to ready the next one. Then I cleaned the pot in the pool each time to prepare. Did I accidentally create a great big mixing pot out of the beautiful mud?

  Sad at my loss, I contemplate what to do. There’s no reason left to stay here if there’s no mud left. Except maybe that proto-mud? No, no, that’s not nearly enough. I could go deeper into the tunnels. Faint whispers of promise tickle my nose from down below, but a louder shout of danger overwhelms over top. Which one do I listen to?

  Not good, not good. Rushing to fill the packs with all my things and secure them to my body, I then grab the stick and pot before darting out of the cave. This was such a perfect place, but finding one hopefully means that I can find another. After all, these maps should make everything easier, given my great genius. The next temporary home will be even bigger and better!