“A rather anticlimactic ending to the war, don’t you think, sir?”

  Rakin tore his gaze from the massive screen before him and raised an eyebrow at Narin.

  “Anticlimactic?” he echoed. “No, not at all, my dear. Tell me—when was the last time a battle of this caliber happened in the first round?”

  Narin furrowed her brow. “I… I can’t seem to recall any.”

  A chuckle escaped him. For once, her young age—at least compared to his—was showing. What a nice, if a bit depressing, sight.

  Damn, I’m old…

  “At least ten integration cycles ago,” he said at last, gesturing toward the display. “And even those didn’t match this. New Hosts don’t want to fight each other. Killing monsters is far easier. This batch is simply… a bit more special.”

  At that, his gaze drifted across the wall of screens. Each one displayed the same thing: Hosts fighting Hosts. While none of the conflicts matched the uniqueness of Earth versus Reprizem, most still went far beyond what was expected from the first round.

  And yet, out of those sixty-four races, thirty-two would be eliminated very soon. A shame, really. Some of the losers definitely had potential.

  Still, rules were rules, and it was far too early to break any of them. All he could do now was hope that the Overseer wouldn’t throw them into the depths from the get-go.

  He exhaled softly. “But you’re not entirely wrong either, dear.”

  That earned Narin’s attention. She faced him again, arms crossed, confusion obvious on her face.

  “The Genesis,” Rakin elaborated. “The moment Isaac accepted the Scar, the war was over… well, almost over. Power like that doesn’t belong in this stage of the war. But even then, it’s not just that.”

  He flicked his hand, and the dozens of screens rearranged themselves into four enormous displays. Each one showed a different person. Four humans.

  Isaac Walker. Harry Hayward. Carmela Lorenzo. And finally, Chris Ewing… assuming that was even his real name.

  Rakin frowned, his eyes still on the fourth screen. “Anything new on him?”

  “No, sir,” Narin answered instantly. “Name, potential Origin, and weapon of choice. That’s all we have. Not a single note in any of the records. I double-checked with the Overlord Conductor.”

  Not good. Not good at all, he thought, scratching his chin. “This level of secrecy… Either they knew what was coming before I did, or this is just a precaution.”

  Next to him, he felt Narin stiffen. “So it really is them?”

  “I see no other option,” he said. “No broadcast. No data in Viktor’s files. A Pioneer with a powerful Origin. It’s almost obvious. They’re always careful… until they’re not.”

  “But isn’t it a bit early for them to play their hand?”

  Rakin shook his head. “They aren’t playing anything yet, just revealing a piece. Unusual, yes, but unsurprising. They know I won’t interfere. Not with what I have already invested.”

  “Isaac could probably deal with him,” Narin mused.

  “Probably,” he agreed. “But is that the right play? No. I don’t think so.” He glanced at his right-hand woman, a grin growing on his face. “Rather, I think we should use this.”

  Narin’s eyes widened ever so slightly. She quickly schooled her expression, though.

  “That’s dangerous, sir.”

  He laughed.

  “My dear, we’re already far past ‘dangerous.’ More Scars are going missing. The Overseer is one breath away from a tantrum. And everyone is starting to make moves in the shadows.”

  “Sir, do I need to remind you who is responsible for all that?”

  “Oh, spare me.” Rakin waved her off. “Just because we made the first move doesn’t mean we should fall behind. Chaos is stirring, my dear, and I didn’t earn my name without a reason.”

  Narin rubbed her brow, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “And it was so peaceful,” she muttered. “What’s the plan, then?”

  “Simple.” He smiled. “I shall meet with the Beyonders. Our end goals may differ, but a tentative alliance might be exactly what Isaac needs to survive the coming storm. His current allies are strong, but he will need more. Much more.”

  “I see,” Narin said. “Anything urgent you need from me?”

  “No. Just keep observing and be ready to send the Wraiths if necessary.”

  “You expect trouble?”

  Stopping by his office door, Rakin shot her a grin over his shoulder. “With them? Always. See you soon, dear.”

  With that, he stepped out of the room, the dark corridors of his citadel leading him deeper and deeper underground. At some point, the passage became so narrow that he almost had to walk sideways. Still, he continued until a small, dark red door blocked his path.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  He reached out, placing his palm on the cool metal. A few whispered words later, the corridor shook as the door lifted. He slipped through without hesitation.

  “Been a while,” Rakin muttered.

  What he walked into was a cavern chamber, one much older than the citadel he had built above it. At first glance, nothing special, if one ignored the pond stationed in the middle, of course. Or the runes and ancient glowing symbols covering every single surface of this place.

  Rakin stopped at the edge of the pond. The white-and-black surface stirred, bubbling violently. Waves formed too and rushed toward him. Yet, before they could reach him, the runes flared violet, and the waters stilled.

  He chuckled.

  “As welcoming as always. But don’t worry. Today you get what you want.”

  He stepped forward.

  “Me.”

  The battle between Earth’s forces and the horde of Reprizem began with less than four days of the war remaining. After transforming into the Worldeater, almost everything became a blur to Isaac. He had killed more than he could count as pain wrecked his body and Core. The description of his Genesis definitely didn’t lie about the immense strain it put on the Host.

  As such, to keep the form active, he had no choice but to shut everything off and lose himself in the battle. To a degree, it worked, and for what felt like an hour, he held it together.

  After that, though…

  He didn’t remember much of what happened afterward. Flashes of blood, running, corpses, and pain were all he had. His friends tried to fill in the blanks, but honestly, he preferred they didn’t.

  What he had done was better left forgotten. And he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Once he had returned to his senses, he had seen the faces of many others.

  Haunted. Hollow.

  And sure, he felt no regrets about his actions, but the guilt was definitely there, trying to drown him. Unfortunately, even with the battle won, there was no time to process any of it.

  While most of the remaining human army slowly retreated and tended to the injured, Isaac, his fellow Pioneers, and a handful of volunteers stayed behind to provide cover. At first, with how broken the Zerian forces were, they barely had to fight. And when they did, his somehow-still-alive puppet did most of the work.

  But as time passed and the Overseer finally reclaimed the Worldeater, the odds began to shift. As powerful as Isaac and the others were, Zerians still had numbers on their side. Besides, with how large a Battleworld Safe Zone was, there was no way for fewer than a thousand humans to intercept every group leaving it.

  Still, they did their best.

  Two days passed before word reached them that the army had made it to the desert. The rest, as some said, was history.

  “There you are, friend.”

  Isaac exhaled, averting his gaze from the endless red dunes stretching before him. He schooled his expression and turned to the new arrival.

  “What’s up?”

  Harry stopped next to him, smiling softly. “Miss Carmela has been looking for you. The one you call Colonel wants a word as well.”

  “Of course,” Isaac muttered. “Not really in the mood to talk, though.”

  Harry’s smile vanished, a frown replacing it. “Are you not happy, my friend? Our victory is all but guaranteed. Earth and humanity shall survive.”

  “It’s not that,” he said, chuckling faintly.

  Was he happy? Yes, but after so many days of fighting and killing, he didn’t have it in himself to show it. He was drained in more ways than one. At this point, he just wanted it all to be over.

  Soon.

  Fusion War Round 1 ends in: 1 hour and 17 minutes.

  To be honest, it was an underwhelming way to end the war. Back when it all began, he thought he would be fighting until the last second. Yet here he was, standing in the middle of the red territory, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

  Was it playing with fire? Doing nothing when over an hour still remained? He didn’t think so. The Zerians had lost their lead in the war minutes into the main battle. A miracle would have to happen for the tide to turn again, especially given that most of the human forces were already back in the yellow territory, still earning more points.

  A waving hand appeared in front of his face, dragging him back to reality.

  “Friend?” Harry called. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

  Isaac blinked, then offered a nod. “Sorry… just got a lot going on in my head.”

  “Ah.” Harry paused. “Do you… wish to be left alone?”

  “Sorry,” Isaac said, his gaze back on the red dunes. “I will return once the timer runs out. Could you tell everyone that?”

  A hand squeezed his shoulder. “Of course, my dear friend. Take your time.”

  Just like that, Isaac heard Harry transform and fly off. Even if the man probably didn’t care about the fate of Reprizem following the end of the war, he could still read the room. Despite all his oddities, he was a good friend.

  Insane, but good.

  Isaac let out another faint chuckle and sat down in the hot red sand.

  Only a few minutes before the first round of the war came to an end, his peace was disrupted once again. He didn’t look, though; his enhanced senses already told him who it was.

  “Should have known you wouldn’t listen,” Isaac muttered as the person sat down next to him.

  “I gave you an hour,” Elaine said. “Be grateful.”

  He snorted, letting the silence stretch between them. It didn’t last long.

  “Think grandpa would be proud of us now?” the woman asked in a mutter.

  “I don’t know,” Isaac answered honestly. “But… I like to think he would rather we stay alive than not.”

  “Even if we become monsters?”

  Isaac hesitated. “…Yes.”

  At first, Elaine remained silent. Then, she huffed a small laugh. “We really were idiots back then, huh?”

  It didn’t take a genius to understand what she meant. He chuckled, too. “Yeah, we were. Only took us the end of the world to figure that out.”

  “Better late than never.” She sighed. “But it’s sad, no? We could have been like this from the beginning. Supporting each other. Like a family.”

  “Family,” Isaac echoed. “Never had any other than the Old Man. And even…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

  Elaine shifted, turning fully toward him. “Then maybe it’s time to change that, hmm?”

  He frowned. “What?”

  She gave him a wide smile. “They say family is what you make it. Friends, loved ones, or even a person you don’t know yet. Blood matters, but not as much as people think.”

  “You’re saying…”

  Elaine shrugged. “Why not? Maybe we had a rocky start, but I like to think we have come a long way. So… what do you say?” She extended her hand, palm up. “Family?”

  Isaac stared at the hand. Two months ago, he would have slapped it away and laughed in her face.

  Now, though?

  Now, he slowly reached out and took it. He then gave it a light squeeze.

  “All right,” he said quietly. “Family.”

  Elaine squeezed back and turned her gaze to the dunes. They sat in silence for several minutes, waiting until the Interface finally appeared with the results.

  Round One of the Virus War has ended.

  Congratulations, Humans of Earth. You move to the next round. Awards and Points Shop shall become available soon.

  Read 20 chapters ahead (Book 2 finished):