Global Awakening: Apocalypse Ender's Chronicle Chapter 1168: Merlin

The chat went still for a beat. Those who survived gazed at the illuminated words, stunned.

[ Kaelen (Sector 7): Hold on... a wedding? Right now? After all that’s happened? ]

[ Rina (Sector 14): Seriously... a good portion of the continent is still engulfed in flames, and you’re focused on marriage? ]

[ Joren (Sector 3): Haha. I respect it. If they can find happiness amidst this chaos, perhaps there’s hope for all of us. ]

[ Lyra (Sector 10): To be honest... I find it rather beautiful. We’ve endured this for over a year. If people can still find joy, why shouldn't they? ]

[ Dax (Sector 6): Joy? My people lost two safe zones. I can barely even contemplate weddings. ]

[ Maylene (Sector 13): Don't be so negative. Celebrations are a rarity. If they wish to marry, let them. It might boost everyone's spirits. ]

A division began to form in the chat as some expressed shock, while others offered support.

Nevertheless, this observation led Shane to realize that many of them were already participating in over ten World Chat sessions daily.

After all, he noticed the same names appearing repeatedly.

[ Toren (Sector 20): I don’t understand. Why would they risk bringing so many people together? What if another event is triggered? ]

[ Mira (Sector 19): Perhaps that’s precisely the intention. To demonstrate that we are still fundamentally human. Not merely survivors. ]

[ Kaelen (Sector 7): Okay, but what does one even offer at an apocalypse wedding? Zombie cores? Silver daggers? Just kidding. ]

[ Joren (Sector 3): Bring sustenance. Or some spirits. Those are the only presents anyone desires now. ]

[ Lyra (Sector 10): Wait... Since they are offering complimentary food and accommodation, there’s no need for gifts. What you must bring are containers. You need to gather as much food as possible. ]

[ Rina (Sector 14): Lol. Gatherings like these are uncommon. We might as well join in. And don't exploit their generosity. Simply offer your congratulations to the newlyweds. By the way, I suspect one of Natalie’s priests will be presiding over this ceremony. ]

Before long, the conversation shifted from disbelief to eager anticipation. Survivors started making plans to journey to Sector 13.

[ Dax (Sector 6): My people are relocating anyway. Perhaps we'll make a stop. A wedding could serve as a welcome diversion. ]

[ Gara (Sector 13): You are most welcome. Just ensure no trouble arises. ]

[ Sarah (Sector 19): Picture dancing beneath the flight of dragons overhead. That is the reality of our world now. ]

[ Justin (Sector 20): Haha. If the bride and groom manage to survive their honeymoon, I shall consider it a triumph. ]

Subsequently, attention was drawn to Shane and Natalie's sector designation.

[ Gustav (Sector 7): Hold on a moment... Did anyone else notice Shane's sector? It reads "SectorX." ]

[ Solen (Sector 14): Yes... Natalie’s does too. That's not a numerical designation. It's peculiar. ]

[ Marina (Sector 3): Wait... I recall hearing whispers about this. Some survivors had the designation "X" previously. They were no longer situated on the main continent. ]

[ Wenderson (Sector 10): Precisely. "X" signifies they are beyond the continent's borders. They have successfully broken free from the established sector system. ]

[ Mira (Sector 19): Beyond the mainland? How is that possible? Did they manage an escape? ]

[ Dax (Sector 6): Lol. They likely utilized a vessel, or perhaps possessed an exceptional talent for swimming, venturing to separate islands. The System operates in mysterious ways. ]

[ Jaren (Sector 20): It is logical. Shane's forces are formidable beyond measure. Mechs, aerial fortresses, elven beings, and more... It seems as though he is no longer constrained by the conventional rules. ]

[ Stella (Sector 7): So, they have essentially become figures of legend now. Survivors existing outside the sector grid. ]

[ Betia (Sector 14): That clarifies their Rank 1 status. They are no longer even competing within our current framework. ]

The chat exploded with theories and conjecture. Some survivors were filled with awe, while others were consumed by envy...

It was assumed by many that existing outside the mainland offered protection from the Zombies. However, a significant number remained unaware of the existence of Sea Zombie Creatures.

Some other Survivors even had to clarify that voyages across the oceans were far more perilous than anyone had previously conceived.

And so, the discussions continued, a mingling of envy, admiration, and sheer curiosity. Yet, amidst the ensuing commotion, the announcement of the wedding persisted in resurfacing.

[ Travis (Sector 13): Cease your overthinking, everyone. Simply come and partake in the celebration. Complimentary sustenance, lodging, and an opportunity to remember our vitality. ]

[ Yasmin (Sector 10): You know what... I am going. I care not for the potential dangers. I wish to witness people smiling once more. ]

[ Anne (Sector 19): Agreed. Count me in. ]

[ Wilson (Sector 20): Very well. If my demise occurs at a wedding celebration, at least it will be a memorable event. ]

Shane let out a low murmur, observing the torrent of messages flow past.

He was uncertain of Travis’s motivations for organizing such an event at this precise moment. While he could certainly inquire with a nearby clone, he opted to let the matter rest for the time being...

He would simply notify Raze and the others who had chosen to remain on the mainland about attending the celebration and extending gifts on his behalf.

In any event, they remained allies... Travis’s Drakeheard Vanguard Clan served as their crucial supplier of crude oil, essential for the sustained operation of their filtration tower, which thereby produced copious amounts of various fuels.

***

Whoosh~

Beyond the confines of the Omega Stronghold, back on the mainland, the oppressive gray fog slowly receded, dissipating like smoke swept away by the wind.

"This..."

For what felt like eons, Merlin perceived the world with unprecedented clarity for the first time.

His body quaked as he took a step forward, the final moments before the oppressive fog enveloped him searingly etched in his mind... A colossal creature, mountain-sized, extended its tongue towards him... He was on the cusp of being consumed by that entity...

Certainty of his impending doom had settled in, yet the mist had intervened, engulfing him entirely.

An immeasurable expanse of haze followed, where the passage of time ceased to hold meaning.

He drifted, consciousness blurred, his recollections gradually deteriorating until only fractured remnants persisted. His name, Merlin, at the very least, remained indelible. This included the sheer terror evoked by that monstrous tongue.

All else vanished, plundered by the mist, or perhaps, by forces yet unknown...

Then, a voice emerged.

It was serene, devoid of gender.

It imparted the knowledge that the world had undergone a transformation.

That it was now overrun by zombies, and that extraterrestrial survivors had arrived to reclaim it.

The voice elucidated that he had been summoned through the manifestation of someone's ability...

However, it also bestowed upon him liberty... he was not compelled to serve without question. He possessed the autonomy to ascertain the worthiness of the one who had called him.

Now, as the fog completely withdrew, Merlin found himself situated before immense gates.

It was the Omega Stronghold, its ramparts constructed of godsteel...

Even without specialized knowledge, the realization struck him that this was no ordinary fortification.

Guards posted at the entrance exhibited a composed demeanor, as if such occurrences were commonplace.

One of them advanced, spear in hand and a firearm at his side....

"Another one arrived," he remarked to his colleague. "A fog recruit."

Merlin’s brow furrowed. "Fog recruit?"

The guard confirmed with a nod. "It happens every few days. Our Lord Shane's Territory Lord talent summons individuals here. You're not the first," he stated.

Before Merlin could formulate a response, another soldier approached, carrying a slate-like device shimmering with System runes. "Name?"

Merlin paused momentarily, then uttered, "Merlin."

The soldier tapped the slate, documenting the information. "Identity verified. Now, demonstrate your skills."

Merlin blinked in surprise. "My... skills?"

The soldier gestured to indicate. "The fog should have imparted this knowledge. Utilize the System interface. Display your status window."

Merlin closed his eyes, concentrating his focus.

The fog’s ethereal whispers resurfaced, guiding his actions. He extended his hand, and a translucent window materialized before him. Lines of text flowed across its surface, revealing his inherent abilities.

The assessor's eyes widened in astonishment. "By the Lord... He's a mage!"

Murmurs of surprise swept through the assembled guards.

Nearby survivors turned their gazes, speculating in hushed tones.

Mages were a rarity... the majority of recruits presented physical aptitudes, martial prowess, or minor auxiliary capabilities. But an authentic mage? That was exceptionally uncommon.

Merlin cast his own gaze upon the window, perusing text that felt both intimately familiar and strangely alien:

[ Arcane Bolt Lv.10 (Max): Fires condensed mana at a target...

[ Mana Shield Lv.10 (Max): Creates a barrier that absorbs damage...

[ Elemental Affinity Lv.10 (Max): Increases effectiveness of fire and lightning spells...

...

[ Fog’s Blessing: Unknown origin. Grants resistance to corruption and partial immunity to fear.

A multitude of diverse skills were present, and finally, their attention was drawn to the Blessing! It lacked any discernible level and appeared to function more as a Title.

Nevertheless, the assessor swallowed hard, meticulously recording all details. "This... this exceeds all expectations. We must notify the Commander immediately."

Merlin lowered his hand, and the window dissolved. A peculiar blend of pride and bewilderment washed over him.

He harbored no recollection of studying magic, yet the skills were undeniably his. The fog had safeguarded them meticulously, even as it eroded his past.

The guards inclined their heads slightly, their demeanor shifting from professional detachment to profound respect. "Welcome, Sir Merlin. You have been chosen judiciously. The current commander of this stronghold will be eager to meet you."

Merlin's gaze ascended once more to the imposing fortress, and he offered a slight nod.

He remained unaware of this commander's identity, but meeting them might offer insights into his current predicament...

"Very well... but first, I am famished. Can you assist me?" His voice conveyed weariness, tinged with a subtle plea.

The guards exchanged glances, after which one of them produced a faint smile. "Certainly. Sustenance is abundant here. You will be escorted to the dining hall initially... Your strength will be rapidly restored. We have fresh fruits, invigorating tonics, and specialized dishes for newcomers. You will dine, recuperate, and subsequently, we shall escort you to the commander."

Merlin's shoulders eased perceptibly. After an eternity of wandering within the desolate gray fog, the prospect of nourishment and sanctuary felt almost surreal.

As he followed the guards inward, he softly articulated to himself, "So, this is where my new existence commences..."