Chapter 109: The night of the apocalypse

At 11:50 PM, the entire world stood on the brink of an unprecedented catastrophe.

Aethelgard, once a world filled with bustling cities, thriving civilizations, and countless living beings, had fallen into an eerie silence. Governments across the globe had mobilized their military forces, players had gathered their weapons, and billions of people were anxiously awaiting the arrival of midnight.

Nobody knew what would happen when the game finally merged with reality.

However, the warnings issued by Arthur Miller had left an indelible mark on the minds of those in power.

The apocalypse was coming.

And there was no second world where humanity could seek refuge.

In the Eastern Region, the president of Volvia stood inside the Capital City Fortress, staring at the enormous transparent barrier suspended above the city.

The barrier resembled an inverted bowl of crystal, covering the entire fortress and extending far beyond its towering walls. Countless runes flickered across its surface, forming complicated patterns that even the most accomplished researchers struggled to understand.

This was humanity’s final line of defense.

Similar fortresses had been constructed across the world, each one equipped with its own defensive barrier. Their construction had consumed astronomical amounts of resources, and countless people had worked day and night to complete them before the deadline.

Yet even after all those preparations, the leaders of the world couldn’t shake the feeling that their efforts might prove meaningless.

"Mr. President, the latest reports from the northern observation stations indicate unusual fluctuations in the atmosphere. Our satellites have also detected several unexplained disturbances in the upper atmosphere."

A military officer stood before the president, his voice trembling slightly as he delivered the report.

The president remained silent for several seconds.

"How much time do we have left?"

"Approximately nine minutes, sir."

Nine minutes.

The president slowly raised his head and stared at the transparent barrier.

"Have all the citizens inside the fortress been accounted for?"

"Yes, sir. All registered residents have been accounted for. However..."

The officer hesitated.

"However, what?"

"There are still millions of people outside the designated fortress zones across the country. Some refused to evacuate, while others couldn’t secure admission before the gates were closed."

The president’s expression darkened.

He had issued orders to accommodate as many people as possible, but the available space, supplies, and defensive infrastructure had never been sufficient for the entire population.

Even with the extraordinary resources provided by the game, there were limits to what humanity could accomplish in such a short period.

"Continue monitoring the situation," he ordered.

"Yes, sir!"

The officer saluted and hurried away.

Once he was alone, the president clenched his fists.

"Arthur Miller... I hope your warning wasn’t exaggerated."

Unfortunately, nobody could answer his question.

Not even Arthur himself could guarantee that humanity would survive the coming catastrophe.

In the Western Region, the atmosphere inside the Golden Citadel was equally oppressive.

The fortress had been constructed in the heart of a vast metropolitan area. Its enormous walls were reinforced with materials obtained from the game, while hundreds of magical turrets had been positioned along its perimeter.

Thousands of players stood on the defensive platforms, gripping their weapons and staring into the darkness beyond the walls.

Some wore full suits of armor. Others carried enormous swords, bows, guns, or magical staffs.

They were humanity’s first line of defense.

Yet despite their impressive equipment, many of them couldn’t stop their hands from trembling.

"Do you really think the game will merge with reality at midnight?"

A young player adjusted the grip on his sword and glanced at his companion.

His companion swallowed nervously.

"That’s what the Darkkord said and the government announced."

"Yeah, but announcements can be misunderstood, can’t they? Maybe the game world will simply become accessible from reality. Perhaps the monsters will remain inside their territories."

He tried to laugh, but the sound came out unnaturally strained.

"Think about it. We’ve been fighting monsters for months, but whenever things became dangerous, we could simply log out. Even if we were surrounded, we could return to the real world."

His companion stared at him.

"And what happens if those monsters surround us here?"

The young man opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

For the first time, he truly understood the difference between fighting monsters inside the game and fighting them in reality.

Inside the game, death was frightening, but there had always been a way to escape danger. Players could retreat to safe zones, use teleportation items, or simply disconnect if the situation became unbearable.

But once the two worlds merged, where could they go?

If monsters flooded the streets, destroyed their homes, and hunted them through the cities, there would be no logout button.

There would be no second chance.

There would only be survival.

"Stop thinking nonsense," another player suddenly interrupted them. "We’ve got legendary weapons and defensive barriers. Even if monsters appear, we’ll kill them!"

"Exactly! We’ve survived countless monster sieges in the game. What’s so different about fighting them here?"

Their words drew several nods from the surrounding players.

They desperately needed something to believe in.

After all, if they allowed their fear to overwhelm them before the battle even began, they might as well surrender immediately.

However, deep inside, everyone understood that the coming night would be unlike anything they had ever experienced.

Far away, in the Northern Region, the situation was even worse.

The ruler of the Frost Empire stood inside the central command chamber of the Northern Fortress, surrounded by military commanders and powerful players.

A massive holographic display occupied the center of the room, showing the status of defensive barriers across the empire.

Green indicators represented stable barriers.

Yellow indicators represented fluctuating barriers.

Red indicators represented critical failures.

At present, most of the empire’s defensive systems remained operational.

But the ruler couldn’t stop staring at the empty spaces beyond the fortress boundaries.

"Have the surrounding settlements been evacuated?" he asked.

A commander lowered his head.

"Most of them have, Your Majesty. However, several remote villages remain outside the protected zones. We dispatched transport units to retrieve their inhabitants, but some roads became inaccessible before the operation could be completed."

The ruler’s jaw tightened.

"Send additional units."

"Your Majesty, we have already deployed nearly every available transport vehicle. If we divert more forces, we may compromise the fortress’s defenses."

The room fell silent.

The ruler slowly closed his eyes.

He had spent his entire life making decisions that determined the fate of millions. He had ordered armies into battle, sacrificed territories to protect strategic positions, and made countless decisions that had earned him both admiration and hatred.

Yet none of those experiences had prepared him for this moment.

How was he supposed to decide who deserved to live when there weren’t enough places to protect everyone?

"Continue the evacuation until the final moment," he finally ordered. "Anyone who can still reach the fortress must be allowed inside."

"Understood!"

The commanders immediately dispersed.

But even as they left, the ruler remained motionless.

He knew that when midnight arrived, the world would judge whether his preparations had been sufficient.

And he feared the answer.

While the powerful leaders of the world waited inside their fortified cities, a far more tragic scene was unfolding beyond their walls.