Chapter 373: Poseidon (1)

Chapter 373: Poseidon (1)

Buuuuk-.

A sound like tough leather being torn.

Suddenly, the sky tore open.

A rim of searing fire burned around the crack, and giant snakes of fire lurched toward the ground.

Patter-patter-patter-patter-

Searing raindrops fell from the sky above.

The showers of fire left no place untouched.

The grass and trees of the mountains burned, and the forests became a desert of ashes.

The oceans and lakes boiled over and turned into wastelands, and all living and breathing things were burned or dried up.

Skeletons cried out even in death, and those who hadn't yet died were afraid to take a single breath.

A time had come when nothing could be promised and nothing could be assured.

Protecting and preserving has become a crude joke, and the concept of yesterday and tomorrow has been lost.

Showers of fire became floods of flame, flooding across the continent for 150 days.

After five months of non-stop torrential rain, the world was set ablaze.

Burned and dried corpses formed mountains, and flames leaped across the horizon, searing like a tongue licking the sky.

'Rainy Season of Evil Fire.'

Endless, endless rains of fire, winds of fire, thunderbolts of fire, floods of fire.

It was the long rainy season that marked the end of humanity.

It was the final weapon of the demons that inflicted the greatest and most devastating damage on the human alliance by wiping out 98% of all living humans.

* * *

It's 3:30 in the morning.

'Aaaah!'

'It's hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!'

'Help me!'

Screams come out of nowhere in the quiet stone chamber. CHeCk for new stories on no/v/el/bin(.)c0m

Burning people screaming at the top of their lungs.

"...! ...! ...! ...!"

Vikir opened his eyes in a cold sweat.

He'd had a nightmare. A dream about 'those days' for the first time in a long time.

"...A shower of fire. Is this a nightmare I haven't had in a long time?"

Who said that the trauma caused by fire cannot be washed away even after a lifetime?

The burn-in marks on the old hound's retina were still clearly visible.

It had been several minutes since he'd awakened from his dream, but his hair still stood on end.

The goosebumps on his forearms were still there.

cheolpeog- cheolpeog- chwaag!

Vikir washed his face in the salt water that dripped down from the ceiling.

The icy cold water dug into his hair and soaked it, shaking him out of his dream.

The Rainy Season of Fear. The terrible season that had cost humanity the most in the Age of Destruction came back like a nightmare.

Vikir, who is always up and ready half an hour before the wake-up call, was the first to hit the grate today.

The BDISSEM grate becomes as mushy as a blade of grass, and when he laid it on its side, an opening was created for him to exit the room.

What a mysterious material.

"The labor begins, scum!"

The prisoners crawl out of their cells to the workhouse today under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Bastille, who oversees the labor camp.

The miserable meals, the poor rest, the prisoners growing increasingly angry.

In the two years that Vikir has spent here, countless faces have come and gone.

Almost all of the overwhelming majority of the prisoners were assembled in the labor yard, waiting on the floor, looking as if they might collapse and die at any moment.

Every day was the same as yesterday. And tomorrow would be the same as today.

Hot air, bursting steam, foul sulfurous fumes, roaring flames, scorched earth, heavy loads, little sleep, sweat, and hungry bodies.

In this daily race to the death, the prisoners were living the same life as the dead, with no past, present, or future.

Their thoughts in the labor camp were always the same.

Before entering labor, they thought, 'I want to die like this,' after going into labor, 'Please just live my life,' and after the labor was over, 'I want to be safe today too.'

It was always the same pattern.

... But not Vikir.

'Not today!'

Every day was a new challenge, every moment a first exploration, every race a certain destination.

Unlike the other prisoners, Vikir had come down here of his own free will, and he knew what he wanted.

So for the past two years, without a single day off, he has been chipping away at stone, scraping dirt, and digging deep into the crater.

...And today. This very moment!

Vikir is faced with a day that is completely different from the 700 or so days he has spent in Nouvelle Vague so far.

BANG!

The sound of a mysterious explosion echoed through the center of the labor camp on Level 9.

Explosions were as common here in Nouvelle Vague as death and starvation, but something was different this time.

A heavy, loud boom, and an unusually long-lasting earthquake.

"Uaahhhh! Run! Here comes the tsunami of lava!"

"Huh! Something's not right with this explosion!"

"Everyone out of the area!"

Guards and prisoners alike scramble backward.

The falling rocks and churning waves of lava were signs that something was about to happen, and rightly so.

But there's one man who doesn't back down, and instead steps forward.

Vikir.

While everyone else was running around in panic, Vikir was staring at a glowing blue light between the waves of lava and the collapsing bedrock.

He sees the lava, extremely hot and glowing blue.

It was shaped like a rounded sphere.

A being that shakes the earth with a roar, Vikir muttered in a low voice towards this blue lava sphere.

"...I found it. Poseidon."

The hope of humanity, the Allied forces' counterattack.

It was a wonderful discovery after about two years of being trapped in Nouvelle Vague.