Re: Apocalypse Game



[Warning: A total of 224 players were captured at the enemy camp]

[Your level D quest - Free captured players has been updated]

[Nazi soldiers will execute all prisoners in 8 hours]

As the digital screen flashed with ominous updates, the gravity of the situation pressed heavily on every player's mind. The count of captured players was on an upward trajectory, and the narrowing window of their possible rescue loomed large. 

Most of these captured players had been ambushed on the very first day, rendering them highly vulnerable. Having not accumulated much in terms of survival points. With a severe penalty of 2,500 points set for death, over 200 of these players teetered on the brink of a real, horrifying end.

Although server-wide efforts were being planned for their rescue, a deeper understanding revealed a harsher truth. Most players weren't rallying for the captives' safety but were instead strategizing to maximize their mission rewards. 

Alan's own memories served as a stark reminder of this reality. He had previously treaded these virtual grounds, albeit in a lesser role as a militia recruit. Back then, his perspective was limited, but certain images were etched into his mind—like the disheartening sight of numerous captives never making it back to safety.

Those unsuccessful rescue attempts stemmed from a catastrophic clash between the two primary rescue factions: the formidable Black Sand Mercenaries and the elite US Special Forces. Instead of a united front, territorial disputes and clashing objectives hindered the mission.

In preparing for this new round of the game, Alan was haunted by those memories. He meticulously planned, going over maps of the area and devising strategies. But the unpredictability of the butterfly effect – a factor he had learned from his unexpected encounter with Merle, the Crimson Gunner, during the last bonus mission – meant things might go differently this time. 

With such variables in play, Alan wasn't content with just planning; he needed eyes on the ground. Determined to ensure the success of the mission, he arrived at the scene hours in advance, blending into the shadows, becoming a silent observer, and keenly watching every movement in the ever-evolving landscape of the game.

The designated location was an expansive yard hugged closely by newly erected, gleaming steel fences. This yard was adjacent to what seemed to be a recently abandoned high school compound, its looming structure casting an eerie shadow on the grounds. To the untrained eye, such an open space might seem an inviting target, relatively easy to infiltrate. But that assumption would be gravely mistaken.

For starters, a formidable defense perimeter had been established around the school. Impressive barricades, manned by a staggering 1,000 Nazi soldiers, served as a stark deterrent. These soldiers were strategically dispersed across four main entry points, each entrance more heavily fortified than the last. The sheer number and readiness of these guards meant that any hasty or unplanned assault would be suicide.

Then there was the geographical challenge. From the outermost building still standing to the foreboding fences was a vast 300-meter stretch of barren land. This no-man's-land was a death trap. Attempting to traverse it meant exposing oneself to the prying eyes of watchful Nazi sentries. And if the guards on patrol weren't concerned enough, lurking sharpshooters with their rifles trained on this very expanse made the proposition even more deadly.

Inside the compound, the danger only intensified. An additional 300 Nazi soldiers were stationed at key locations, their numbers split between three critical posts. The first group patrolled the front yard, their steps methodical and watchful. The second cluster had set up within the school's cafeteria. From there, they had a commanding view of the entire yard, their vantage point ensuring they missed nothing. Lastly, the third detachment was based in the school's lobby, a strategic location granting them access to both the front and the back of the building.

But the most alarming detail in this perilous jigsaw was the enemy's resolve. If the Nazi soldiers detected even a hint of a threat or sensed that the perimeter was being compromised, their orders were clear and merciless: initiate the immediate execution of all prisoners. This put the onus on the rescue team to not just be swift, but surgical. There was no margin for error. They had to be precise, discreet, and efficient, striking with both speed and silence to ensure success.

####

Drawing upon his mastery in stealth and his senses, now heightened, Alan effortlessly slipped past the intimidating barricades without arousing any suspicion. Nestled in the obscurity of the structures, he took a moment to survey the lay of the land, letting the buildings' shadows cloak his presence.

Using his [Concealment] Ability, he became one with the shadows, an imperceptible entity even to the most observant eye. His breathing slowed, heart rate steady; Alan would remain completely motionless, sometimes for agonizing minutes, allowing the patrolling guards to pass him by, their footsteps growing fainter as they continued their circuit.

As the shadows shifted with the passing hours, Alan meticulously noted the Nazi patrol's location and vantage points of the sharpshooters. He mentally marked each sniper's perch, taking into account not just their precise location but also the number of guards posted with each shooter. His observations were methodical and precise, ensuring no detail was overlooked.

This reconnaissance wasn't without its heart-wrenching moments. From his hidden vantage points, he bore witness to several audacious players attempting to infiltrate the heavily guarded compound. Their bravado, however admirable, was often their undoing. One after another, they were either hunted down during their escape, ensnared by the relentless Nazi soldiers, or met an even graver fate.

Each time, Alan's instincts screamed at him to intervene, to save those brave souls. But the harsh reality of his mission weighed heavily upon him. Any slip, any unintended noise could jeopardize the entire operation, potentially dooming all the captured players. Every fiber of his being ached with the decision to remain concealed, but Alan knew that he couldn't save everyone. With a heavy heart and clenched fists, he pressed on, sticking to the plan and the bigger picture it represented.

[Warning: A total of 232 players were captured at the enemy camp]

[Your level D quest - Free captured players has been updated]

[Nazi soldiers will execute all prisoners in 4 hours]

The countdown to the execution was agonizingly palpable, and every second mattered. An hour after the dire notification, and just three hours before the scheduled execution, Alan's sharp eyes caught a flurry of movement: the unmistakable coordinated maneuvers of the US Special Forces. Though he could only account for a fraction of them, it was evident that about twenty men, operating in sleek pairs, were stealthily approaching from the south. They targeted two of the sniper posts on the southern building, neutralizing them with swift precision.

Alan, ever the observer, scribbled mental notes on their movements, strategies, and patterns. Then, blending seamlessly with the shadowy environment, he moved silently towards a location he had deduced the Black Sand mercenaries would soon infiltrate. He ascended to a rooftop, and with his [Concealment] ability in play, he became almost indistinguishable from the night itself.

As he had anticipated, but fifteen minutes later than he expected, the first wave of mercenaries emerged from the west. Alan mused on the delay. Was there some strategic reasoning behind it? Before he could dive too deeply into his thoughts, his [Enhance Sense] picked up on imminent danger — five figures rapidly approaching his location. Their skills were unquestionable; two of them effortlessly scaled a three-story building with the grace of seasoned parkour athletes.

"Veterans!" Alan internally exclaimed.

Despite being effectively cornered, Alan's calm veneer didn't waver. Recognizing the unique gait and approach of the oncoming figures, he silently prepped for an encounter. As the figures drew closer, enveloping him in a tight semi-circle, Alan slowly raised his hands in a universal sign of peace, whispering with an urgency tinged with hope, "I am friendly, don't shoot."

From the dim recesses of the surrounding shadows, three of the five figures stepped into the faint moonlight, revealing the distinct uniforms of the Black Sand mercenaries. Cold, distrustful eyes locked onto Alan, and weapons were pointed directly at his heart. The atmosphere was thick with tension as one of them, presumably the leader, demanded, "Why are you spying on us... Who are you?"

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