Global Gods : Skill-Resonance Awakened Chapter 361: Ch 361 : The Shattered Utopia

The system alert didn't merely linger; it burned into the minds of countless trillions across existence.

Within the Tower of Eternity, that towering core of advancement stabbing into the skies of the Inner World, the vibe transformed from calm study to a charged buzz of unease.

For countless ages—or what seemed like ages thanks to the Sovereign’s time-slowing blessing—the Tower served as a hub of friendship.

Hunters from various races broke bread together, swapped strategies for tackling bosses, and rested in the firm knowledge that no one would attack them with ill intent.

That assurance had turned fragile like thin ice, with fissures now spreading rapidly underfoot.

On the 42nd level, a huge, tusked Orc rubbed his head, gazing at the luminous words of the announcement. “What’s it really saying?” he rumbled, his words bouncing off the obsidian walls of the corridor. “The Moral Stabilizer is removed? So, will the fields yield crops in new ways?”

A lean, battle-marked Werewolf nearby unleashed a deep, hunting growl. A wicked grin stretched across his face, exposing sharp, jagged fangs.

“It signifies, tusker, that freedom is ours at last. The shackles are broken. No more bolts from above for old grudges. We’re spared the fury of Demigods or the quiet verdict of Gods—at least until death places us before the scales of fate.”

His golden gaze fixed on a Vampire noble across the open square. For ages, their kinds had ruled as top hunters on their birth planets, trapped in endless feuds of blood and silver.

Under Sunny’s calm, they’d been compelled into a sickening, courteous truce.

Now, the Werewolf sensed the old, buried rage igniting anew. He held back from attacking, but he clutched his axe, and for the first time ever, he escaped the sick feeling of purpose that Thea’s Law once enforced.

The single loose strand in the shared thoughts of all beings had been tugged, causing the idyllic fabric to fray moment by moment.

The change went beyond the mind; it struck at the gut. Far inside a top-level dungeon on the 55th floor, a seasoned squad neared victory in a brutal clash with a Frost Giant boss.

The team of five had spilled blood side by side for years. As the Giant collapsed, its enormous form breaking into light specks to uncover the gleaming S-Grade item, the Frost-Core Heart... the mood shifted sharply.

Normally, they’d draw lots or debate who deserved the boost most.

Yet the group’s main Damage Dealer, a sorcerer with eyes always too greedy, skipped the talk entirely.

“I am free,” he murmured under his breath.

In a swift, fierce surge, he unleashed an Area-of-Effect Supernova spell.

Blazing white fire flooded the boss room, taking his allies by total surprise.

Since they relied on him, their defenses were lax. In a flash, four of his tightest allies turned to dust.

The sorcerer remained solitary in the charred space, his fingers shaking as he grasped for the treasure.

The thrill of claiming an S-Grade prize easily overpowered the fresh pain of disloyalty.

He was aware his friends would revive via the Nine Lives system and pursue him across the multiverse’s edges, but armed with this item, he figured he could slay them nine times before they came close.

Such moments echoed in countless variations throughout the Inner World.

In the bazaars beneath Sunny’s worlds, a pickpocket found the Divine Paralysis failed to activate when he snatched a noble’s coin pouch. By midday, the spotless crime record of the inner realms exploded into thousands of cases.

In certain worlds, elite clans who once dwelled in exposed estates started building tall barriers and metal barriers. They hired personal forces, not for demon battles, but to shield their riches from fellow dwellers.

The days ahead had grown wildly uncertain.

On the 66th floor of the Tower, a squad of top ascenders gathered near a dancing fire. They ignored their equipment; instead, they eyed their system interfaces, browsing the News Feeds.

Before, the feeds offered a clean flow of facts overseen by Thea.

Any false info, gossip, or yells got handled by the System’s verification.

But with the fresh edict, the Truth Filters switched to user control. Now, any being could share freely, and reality hinged on upvotes, subscriptions, and the wild sway of crowd views.

An info void, once the scarcest element in Sunny’s domain, yawned wide like a chasm.

“What sort of total nonsense is this?” a Mountain Giant snarled, his massive thumb swiping the screen like a bread roll. “Some fool just dropped a three-part Urgent Update about scoring fresh silk shorts in the South Quarter. How’s this on the Worldwide Stream?”

His teammates chuckled, but the mirth rang empty. As they checked their own streams, the chuckles faded.

“See the fatality count,” Merrily, the group’s fairy, breathed softly, her wings sagging.

At the alert’s arrival, they’d figured most folks would cling to ethics from routine.

They thought that without demigod oversight, beings wouldn’t morph into beasts overnight. They’d misjudged.

In a mere day, the figures were jaw-dropping:

Casualties: 1.2 Billion souls claimed just in the Tower, ignoring those in the Gods’ multiverses and progress domains.

Property Crimes: A boundless wave, pegged at quadrillions in value.

Societal Shifts: 40% of tiny settlements had imposed emergency rule or fallen to nearby powerhouses.

“Why would the Demigods unleash this?” She questioned, her tone quivering. “Life was good. We were secure.”

“My mother sent a note,” Lucious, Veridia’s initial hero, murmured. His stare stayed on the flames. “She mentioned 90% of the Council backed it. No full story, but she said the gains outweigh the spilling blood. She warned me... ’Stay safe, Lucious. The era of the guardian ends. The era of the predator dawns.’”

Lucious’s mother held the role of Gaia’s prime apostle, the Demigod of Life, and a lesser Demigod who sat on the demigod assembly.

Her alert bore heavenly gravity. He eyed his crew, united by destiny over kin, and pondered who might first view his neck as loot rather than loyalty.

The turmoil stretched beyond the Tower. Across the vast Inner World multiverses, racial heads plunged into full alarm.

In some realms, betting halls became killing fields as gamblers saw they could murder the dealers to reclaim debts.

In others, the old custom of Slavery, wiped out by Sunny at the start, resurfaced in weeks.

Powerful figures started seizing frail beings, insisting it shielded them amid the disorder.

To endure, former idlers had to build power or perish.

They surged toward the Tower of Eternity in huge waves, seeking to farm experience and items.

Yet the Tower lost its haven status. Fresh entrants leaving starter hubs often faced Player-Hunters... bands of robbers who found robbing rookies simpler than battling 50th-level beasts.

Back in the City of Gods, the Demigod Council observed the lit-up status boards at the chamber’s heart.

The info flows formed a wild tangle of crimson, climbing fatalities, sinking order, and crumbling societies.

“Check this out!” a Demigod in pristine white garments yelled, waving at the displays frantically. “A trillion gone in hours! We’ve morphed bliss into a killing pen. I opposed this measure for just these horrors! We’ve betrayed our Master’s dream.”

“The Master’s dream isn’t a tame enclosure,” a cool, piercing tone sliced the air.

It came from Zoran, a guardian Demigod forged by Sunny to defend realms rescued from demon deities.

He sported a sleek, contemporary dark suit, yet his visage was a smooth, blank pale mask.

“Events are settling as forecasted,” Zoran went on, his tone steady and detached.

“Society splits into essential halves: the Commoners and the Leaders. The mighty already step up to tame the storm.”

“These fresh Leaders enforce their rules. Some are despots, true, but others prove just and kind. They set real penalties for wrongs. They give folks motive to hone their might.”

Zoran pointed to a fresh data flow. “View the News Feeds. Between the pointless shares and lies, real guides rise. Beings rally to those offering safety.”

“If a Leader irks them, uprising follows. If Leaders clash, battles erupt. This clash... this rough pushback is the blaze needed for shaping.”

He faced the objecting Demigods. “The shot is fired; we can’t recall it. Quit fretting over now’s tolls and eye the Gods forging for the future. Don’t fracture; only we can keep this blaze contained.”

His words were icy, reasoned, and quelled the argument. He spoke for the realists, who saw a million deaths as a just trade for one SSS-Grade fighter to aid Sunny versus demons.

“Well spoken, Zoran,” a harmonious voice rang out.

The silver motes at the room’s core twisted, forming Thea’s shape. She appeared before the displays, her figure gleaming with the info from a trillion spirits.

“The early reactions are truly... stormy,” Thea noted, her gaze mirroring the fiery red figures. “Yet allow me to reveal the advances the raw digits hide. Master’s Divine Growth responds to the turmoil.”

She touched the display, and gold flecks overlaid the red numbers.

“The beings aren’t mere marionettes anymore,” Thea added with a faint, mysterious grin. “They’re beginning to resemble the Emperor’s heirs, gaining power daily.”