Re: Apocalypse Game



"Where are the others!!" Vicky's shout pierced the night, her voice filled with urgency and alarm. She had just seen four rednecks sliding down the zip line one by one, the sound of their descent barely audible over the shots emanating from the warehouse.

Her heart pounded as she tried to make sense of the situation. But before any explanations could be given, a shocking, thunderous explosion resonated through the air, its force shaking the ground beneath them. Everyone's eyes turned skyward, just in time to see a solitary figure plummeting from the line.

The fall was high, and every agonizing second seemed to stretch into eternity as they watched, breathless and horrified. But when the figure landed, they realized, with a collective sigh of relief, that it wasn't a lethal fall. Vicky sprinted over and found Daniel, who was dazed but alive. The two of them looked back at the flaming warehouse behind them, terror in their eyes. "No! Mr. D!" Daniel's voice cracked with emotion.

The explosion had severed the rope, leaving Alan and Luis in a perilous situation. The choice was unthinkable: either fall from a tremendous height, battling the deadly pull of gravity, or be caught in the blast's fury. Both options were grim, both fraught with danger.

"I'll go look for them!" Vicky declared, her voice filled with determination. She was prepared to run back toward the warehouse. But as she took a few steps, the sound of multiple boots reached her ears. It was an ominous, rhythmical sound, growing louder with each passing moment.

"OVER THERE!!" a voice shouted, and suddenly the night was alive with action.

Weapons were fired, and the shadows seemed to come alive as dozens of enemy soldiers charged forward. The threat was immediate, and the danger palpable. Panic surged, and Vicky's heart leaped into her throat, forcing her to back off.

As she retreated, she quickly helped Daniel to his feet, her hands shaking with adrenaline. The four rednecks, aware of the mounting threat, readied their weapons and took aim.

TRATATATATATA.

The staccato burst of gunfire echoed through the alley, a symphony of violence and resistance. Bullets sprayed, and the dark shapes of soldiers moved and darted, a deadly dance under the cloak of night.

Fortunately, the narrow alleyway provided a natural choke point. With walls on either side, the confined space inadvertently became a tactical advantage for their small group. It restricted the number of enemy soldiers that could advance at once, allowing them to hold their position with a fighting chance.

"We need to find Alan and Luis!" Vicky's voice was edged with desperation.

But Milo stop her "No," he said, "We secure the bags first. We'll go back for them."

The sturdy boxer swiftly held two bags, one in each hand. Milo has been walking back and forth carrying bags to the port and there were still five few of them left.

"Hurry, follow me!" Milo ordered.

With urgency driving their movements, Daniel and two other rednecks hastily picked up the remaining bags. Vicky and another member provided cover fire from the rear, ensuring their retreat was protected.

The port was tantalizingly close, just 100 meters away. But it might as well have been a hundred miles, given the enemy's presence. Their escape had been discovered, and they all knew that every step would be contested.

Just as they anticipated, another patrol group appeared from the south, effectively cutting off their escape route. Bullets zipped past them, ricocheting off the buildings and creating a cacophony of danger. The weight of the onslaught pressed down on them, making the street seem like an impassable barrier.

"Just a little bit more!" Milo shouted, a hint of urgency breaking through his normally calm demeanor. Using his impressive strength, he hurled two bags across the street. Then, raising his AK-47—a weapon he'd acquired from the Item Shop—he provided the cover fire they desperately needed. "Go! Go! Go!"

In the chaos, their numbers seemed to blur. There were seven of them, but the hefty bags they clutched rendered some of them less effective in the firefight. As they darted across the street, they became easy targets for the enemy. Bullets rained down, and not all of them missed their mark. Milo grunted in pain as two bullets found their target, but he didn't stop.

"We need to get out of here, more will be coming!" His voice was tinged with pain but resolute, reminding everyone of the dire situation they were in.

The salty air of the port should've been a relief, but as Vicky and her group approached, they were met with an ominous sight. Lined up in formation, at least half a dozen Nazi soldiers stood waiting for them. Their cold, steely gazes suggested they knew of the group's intentions. Behind the group, the relentless footfalls of the pursuing soldiers echoed, trapping them between two menacing forces.

Tension gripped the air, but before anyone could act, a barrage of gunfire echoed from the shore. Two Nazi soldiers were instantly dropped, their lifeless forms collapsing onto the hard ground. Panic seized the remaining soldiers, some of whom scrambled for cover, while others were left exposed. From the shadows, a lone figure emerged, gun blazing. He moved with a purpose, systematically taking down the remaining threats with lethal efficiency.

One of the rednecks, eyes widening in recognition, shouted, "Uncle Merle!" With renewed courage, inspired by the timely appearance of the familiar figure, the group began to fight back, working together to clear the port of any remaining threats.

It was the Crimson Gunner, he gestured urgently toward a small boat bobbing at the dock. "Head toward the boat!" he yelled. But as they began to move, he quickly noticed the reduced number in the group. "Where's the teacher? Where is Alan?"

Vicky, catching her breath, responded, "We need to go back for them!" Her voice cracked with emotion, the weight of leaving behind comrades heavy on her heart.

But just as she said this, the unmistakable silhouettes of multiple Nazi squads began to form at the outskirts of the port. The grim realization dawned upon them: they were heavily outnumbered.

"We can't go back," Merle growled, his voice heavy with regret. "We have to leave, now!"

Vicky's heart ached, torn between the desire to save her comrades and the pressing need to escape. Sensing her internal struggle, Milo, despite his injuries, firmly grabbed her arm. "Alan will find a way out, he will" he reassured her.

Without another word, all eight of them clambered onto the small boat, hastily untying it from the dock. As the boat's engine roared to life, a torrent of bullets rained down around them, the sounds of gunfire deafening in the night.

As they pulled further away from the shore and into the open water, the immediate threat began to fade. The distant lights of the port grew fainter, and the cacophony of battle was replaced by the gentle lapping of waves against the boat's hull.

Suddenly, a notification pinged on their [gamelink], drawing their attention away from the retreating shoreline.

[You have successfully taken the invader's supplies]

[You have completed D level quest]

[You received D rank reward x1]

[You received 2000 survival points, 2000 XP]

There was another notification came after 

[You have successfully evaded capture]

[You have completed F level quest]

[You received F rank reward x1]

[You received 300 survival points, 300 XP]

Unfortunately, the reward and the bags they manage to steal were not enough to ease the group's concern about their left-behind members

####

Amidst the smoky haze and the orange glow of the burning warehouse, a dilapidated structure stood, its roof sagging under the weight of time. Beneath its broken tiles lay Alan and Luis, both unconscious, their bodies covered in a thin layer of dust and soot.

Suddenly, their wrists vibrated. The soft glow of their [gamelink] devices illuminated their faces, showing notifications:

[You have successfully taken the invader's supplies]

[You level up to level 17]

The vibration, along with the faint glow of the messages, stirred Alan from his daze. His head throbbed with pain, and he could feel the warmth of his own blood. Without hesitation, he retrieved his [Medical gauze] from his inventory and patched up his wounds as well as the slowly rousing Luis'.

"Ah... Señor Alan... are we... dead !?" Luis mumbled, his eyes still half-closed.

"We are not.. but if you keep making noise we would" Alan whispered urgently, his eyes darting towards the window. The eerie glow of the fire revealed scenes of pandemonium outside the warehouse ablaze, soldiers yelling and dragging injured comrades.

Taking advantage of the momentary respite, Alan accessed his status:

[Alan D Angello, Male, 27 years]

[Level 17: 16860/18000]

[Health points: 112/200]

[Spirit points: 60]

[Stamina: 75%]

[Survival Points: 5760]

[You have two attribute points to distribute]

[You have 1x D rank reward]

A small smile crept across Alan's face. Not only had he been awarded for their mission's success, but it seemed that the earlier explosion had inadvertently earned him credits for eliminating enemy soldiers.

However, that satisfaction was short-lived. The notification about the successful quest implied that the others had escaped. They were stranded, and the encircling danger was drawing ever closer.

Luis, looking more aware but equally concerned, whispered, "Señor Alan, "What should we do now?!"

In the midst of the chaos outside, an audacious plan began to form in Alan's mind. "Luis," he began with a determined look, "let me see your stats".

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