As he threw the stone pickaxe into the lava out of frustration, the zombie had hope that maybe Steve realised, but this hope was lost as he slowly pulled out another.

“We gotta stop him, he’ll lose it if we don’t”, he mumbled to the spider, who was equally worried.

“I can hear you!” Steve shouted. “Go away, I’ll do this myself!”

The zombie began to reply, but was interrupted by the tapping of the new pickaxe. As they approached Steve, his pace grew faster. Sweat was beginning to trickle down his forehead.

“Leave!”

“Steve, we’ve been through this”

“I don’t need your help!”

“You can’t use a stone pickaxe on gold. You need to get an iron one first”

“Gold is better!”

“No, Steve, you, ah…” the zombie sighed. “While gold pickaxes do mine faster and have the same capabilities of an iron pick, they wear down way faster than you can mine. Iron is better in the long run.”

“Leave! I’ve almost broken this ore anyway!”

“It won’t drop anything. Stone picks are only able to break it, man. You may as well use your fist.”

“BE QUIET!”

Despite the ore crumbling away, Steve still stared where it was, a look of horror on his face.

“Steve, we’re here for you,” the zombie confessed, as he rested his arm on Steve’s shaking shoulder. “I’ve got plenty of iron back at my dungeon. Let’s go.”