Global Awakening: Apocalypse Ender's Chronicle Chapter 1146 1146: Another Apocalypse

Wendel narrowed his eyes, initially uncertain of what he was seeing…

This territory had remained undisturbed for the longest time. While a few ships had passed by, none had ever made landfall, likely due to the absence of a proper dock. Furthermore, they deliberately avoided constructing one as a self-preservation tactic, wanting to prevent any infected individuals from setting foot on their island. The surrounding seas were treacherous, teeming with the undead, making any voyage a significant risk unless absolute confidence was assured. Even the leaders within the Draconic Fort harbored reservations about venturing from their secure refuge. Yet, here they were, two vessels approaching directly towards the island. It seemed impossible to ignore them this time. Without a second thought, Wendel signaled the other guards to sound the alarm…

Soon, eager hands grasped the rope, and the alarm bell began to toll. Its resonating clang carried across the fort, jolting the inhabitants. Farmers abandoned their tools, guards scrambled to the ramparts, and Tris himself made an appearance… “Ships!” Wendel’s voice boomed from the watchtower. “Two ships approaching!” The fort instantly buzzed with unease. The simultaneous approach of two vessels suggested it was no mere coincidence; they must carry a crew of survivors, not the mindless undead. Whether they represented allies, enemies, or something more sinister remained unknown. Nevertheless, the sight of sails on the distant horizon signaled an impending change.

***

Tris wasted no time once the alarm bell’s urgent peal echoed through the air. He moved swiftly towards the command post, issuing rapid orders to his assembled commanders. “First defensive line, activate! Caesar, prepare your battalion!” The fort wasn't situated directly on the coast. The unpredictable nature of spawns had led the Draconic Fort to be established further inland, shielded by natural terrain and elevated earthworks. However, Tris had foresightedly anticipated the possibility of maritime intrusion. Months prior, he had commanded the construction of a basic defensive perimeter along the coast, complete with trenches, robust mounds, concealed artillery positions, and bunkers hidden amongst the rocks and trees… Now, these carefully laid plans were about to face their ultimate test. Caesar, the commander of the first battalion, relayed his orders to his assembled troops. “Remove the covers! Cannoneers, prepare to fire!” The soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, pulling away the tarpaulins that concealed their weaponry. One by one, the heavy cloths were stripped back, revealing a line of ten cannons that gleamed faintly in the morning light. These had remained hidden, protected by earthworks and trenches… It wasn't as though they were employed daily, and as long as they were properly maintained, keeping them covered was perfectly acceptable. Adjacent to the cannons, riflemen took their positions, diligently loading their firearms and aiming towards the sea. These defenses would have been woefully inadequate against Dragonoids. However, against humans, or any intruders audacious enough to attempt a landing without authorization, they were more than sufficient. Tris stood at the edge of the fort’s wall, communicating telepathically with Caesar. “Hold your fire until they make a move. We mustn’t waste ammunition unless absolutely necessary.” A palpable tension filled the air; this could very well be their first significant engagement against fellow humans. Presently, the two ships decelerated, their sails flapping erratically as they came to a halt just offshore. Without a dock, disembarking would prove challenging, a circumstance that was entirely by design. The fort had intentionally forgone constructing a landing, prioritizing isolation over convenience. Then, a commanding voice rang out from the defensive positions along the shoreline. “Stop right there! State your purpose for approaching! This is our territory!” Caesar’s voice boomed across the waves. A moment of silence ensued. Then, something entirely unexpected occurred. Dozens of figures abruptly leaped from the ships, plunging into the water. “Hmm? They intend to attack?! How foolish!” They watched, bewildered, as the figures swam in unison, slicing through the waves with the precision of trained soldiers. Soon, warning shots were fired by the defenders into the air! For a brief period, the swimmers did not falter. Then, remarkably, they ceased their advance before reaching the shore… The swimmers halted their progress, standing waist-deep in the surf like a disciplined unit awaiting command. Caesar’s brow furrowed. “They’ve stopped… like soldiers.” He was impressed by their discipline, yet a sense of unease settled upon him. Observing approximately fifty well-trained individuals, he surmised that their captain, commander, or admiral—whoever was leading them—might pose a significant threat. It was at this precise moment that Tris raised his binoculars, his gaze sweeping across the shoreline. He attempted to utilize his Vision Skills, but the results left him perplexed. For reasons unknown, he detected no life force signatures… Initially, he suspected they might possess formidable artifacts, capable of obscuring his Survivor Skill, which could normally appraise young Dragons. “Wait…” Then, his breath caught in his throat. He had assumed they were survivors… They were cloaked figures, encased in armor from head to toe, swords strapped to their backs. But then, he glimpsed their faces. Or rather, what should have been faces.

Their cloaks managed to hide most of their forms, but their heads were conspicuously mechanical!

Beneath the hoods, metal frameworks, intricate gears, and shining lenses were visible.

Only remnants of human features could be seen, and even those appeared utterly artificial.

Tris lowered his binoculars, his face etched with a grim expression.

"They aren't soldiers. They are machines," he stated.

As the news spread, gasps of shock traveled through the assembled defenders.

"Robots!" someone exclaimed.

"Wait! Could this not be a Zombie Apocalypse World after all?"

A stark realization dawned upon them. They had braced themselves for humans, for zombies, and even for Dragonoids. Yet, this presented an entirely unforeseen threat.

Caesar clenched his jaw tightly. "Leader, what are your orders?"

Tris inhaled deeply, striving for composure. "Hold your positions. Prepare the cannons, keep the rifles aimed. Do not open fire unless they advance. We must ascertain their intentions."

A multitude of possibilities raced through Tris's mind at this moment.

He was aware of the A.I. Rebellion and the notion that this apocalypse should indeed be filled with Machines.

What if someone had utilized Gate Stones? What if, instead of directing them towards their shelter, they had been used on their ships, leading to an unexpected transportation?

Ultimately, these were mere speculations, and there was no way to verify them yet.

After all, it was also conceivable that someone within this Zombie Apocalypse World possessed a unique talent capable of creating such constructs.

Furthermore, he recalled hearing that this world was once modern… Perhaps, androids or robots weren't anything out of the ordinary to begin with…

"Let's maintain our composure…" he murmured to himself.

Soon, they observed the mechanical figures standing perfectly still, as if awaiting a command.

Their unnerving discipline was unlike anything they had witnessed, not even from the zombies.

Then, Wendel, still stationed at the watchtower, confirmed their observation. "They aren't attacking! They are simply… waiting!"

Tris contemplated the unfolding situation. If these machines were hostile, they might be probing the fort's defenses. Conversely, if they were potential allies, their method of arrival was certainly peculiar.

Regardless of their nature, the fort could not afford to act recklessly.

"Caesar," Tris communicated via telepathy, "maintain the cannons' aim on them. If they set foot on our shore without permission, open fire. Instruct the riflemen to target their heads. If they are machines, their cranial casing might be their vulnerability."

"Yes, Leader!" Caesar responded promptly before relaying the updated orders.

Despite Tris being situated far from the shoreline, it made no difference. The defenders gripped their weapons tighter, their gazes fixed on the enigmatic figures. All the while, the waves gently lapped at their feet, yet they remained resolute and unmoving.

Several minutes elapsed before someone noticed a figure appearing on the deck of the closest vessel.

"Apologies for the… I assumed this was a Wild Shelter or something similar. Is this perhaps a Neutral Shelter?"

The voice carried clearly across the expanse of water.

Unsurprisingly, the speaker was Shane.

The moment Caesar recognized his voice, he finally confirmed they were interacting with humans who possessed the ability to control these robots.

"Yes! In essence, we are simply a Survivor Shelter. However, referring to us as a Neutral Shelter is acceptable too!" Caesar called back.

Shane's face broke into an immediate smile upon receiving confirmation. "Excellent! Would it be possible for us to resupply here instead? We are not pirates or any such group. My name is Shane, and we hail from the Eclipse Revenant Clan on the mainland. My map did not indicate a shelter in this location… it's likely outdated."

Caesar relayed this information to Tris through their telepathic link. Tris listened intently, carefully assessing the potential risks. Finally, he conveyed his decision.

"Shane, you say… Inform them that resupply is permitted, but any individual setting foot on land must be thoroughly checked for zombie bites. We cannot afford any risk of infection within the fort."

Caesar nodded and shouted back towards the ships, "Our Leader has consented. You may resupply, but all who disembark must undergo an inspection for bites or signs of infection, and we will also verify your identities. This condition is non-negotiable!"

Shane raised his hand in acknowledgment. "Understood. We will comply. Only ten of us will come ashore. The remainder will stay aboard their vessels."

That declaration alone significantly eased the tension among the defenders. The presence of the robots was already intimidating, and the prospect of two massive ships carrying hundreds of crew members felt overwhelming. Knowing that only ten individuals would disembark brought about a palpable sense of relief.

Caesar turned to address his men. "Hold firm. Keep the cannons covered but ready. If they make any threatening moves, we will retaliate immediately."

The riflemen lowered their weapons slightly, though their vigilance remained sharp, their eyes still keenly focused.

Tris let out a slow breath… Ten humans coming ashore presented no significant concern…

However, the moment he witnessed Shane seemingly flying and then landing safely on the shore without even touching the water, he was utterly stunned.