Apocalypse Tamer - Chapter 98: Man vs New Year's Eve
When Basil woke up after a good night’s sleep, 2023 was less than twenty-four hours away.
He still remembered the end of 2019. He had been sitting on his sofa, watching the news thinking that the new pandemic sounded bad but not that terrible.
When 2020 neared its end, he figured that while this year had probably been his life’s worst between the confinements, joblessness, and Covid-19, surely things would improve in 2021. The situation couldn’t possibly get worse, right?
Then 2021 came around with a litany of natural disasters, riots, insurrections, collapsing government, and a disease that just wouldn’t go away, Basil took solace in that for all the sorrow in the world, at least he wasn’t homeless.
It said something about 2022 that the destruction of his and René’s house had been the year’s lesser tragedy.
What awaited mankind past the apocalypse and the collapse of modern civilization? Basil knew better than to tempt fate. By now he understood that even when you hit rock bottom, it was always possible to dig deeper. Each year was worse than the last.
Yet somehow, Basil managed to rise out of bed with unrelenting enthusiasm and peace of mind. The sight of Vasi snoring lightly under the sheet helped; the familiar smell of honeyed waffles came from the Steamobile’s kitchen room too. He immediately recognized his mother’s handiwork. Aleksandra Bohen just loved waffle recipes.
I could get used to this, Basil thought as he stretched his back. He didn’t require power, fame and money to be happy; only the right people and simple pleasures.
Do not throw your new existence away, the Maleking had said. It is the only one worth living.
The vile demon’s words echoed in Basil’s mind and instantly soured his mood. 2022 had objectively been the worst year in modern human history, and yet he had come out ahead. The Apocalypse did benefit him in a strange way.
I can’t let him get under my skin, Basil told himself. That’s how demons win.They make the bad look good until you forget it’s all a lie.
A System notification brought him back to his harsh reality: that as long as the likes of the Maleking and Maxwell ran around, he would never find peace.
Congratulations, Players of Earth! You have survived to the end of 2022 and our [New Year] Event! We are proud to announce that out of the 8 billion registered human Players that started this adventure with us, a whopping 1.932.678.870 of you made it to this date in one piece; newborns included! That’s a 75 percent extinction ratio, right between tadpoles and dolphins!
Thanks to your collaboration, we have successfully erased eighty years of human growth and brought it back to pre-World War II population levels. We couldn’t have done it without you.
When numbers became too high, they lost all meaning. Basil still remembered days when Forbes would rank the fortunes of billionaires. At one point, Bernard Arnault had briefly overcome Jeff Bezos as the world’s richest man by a ten billion or so margin. A difference that seemed small considering those two’s fortunes… and yet unfathomable for someone like Basil, who had never earned more than a minimum wage job. The difference was like the distance between Mars and Pluto. The human mind could understand that one was farther than the other, but it simply couldn’t imagine how much. Immense numbers surpassed practicality and lived in the realm of the abstract.
Basil felt the same when he read the Trimurti System’s death count. One death, he could mourn. A hundred, he could relate to. But six billion? The number transcended sadness and horror alike. Basil tried to imagine six billion faces staring back at him, filling the voids with his memories of Orcine, Kuikui, René, Aya, Major Grange, his father, all the people he had outlived since he began to breathe. All the carnage and sorrow he had witnessed couldn’t even fill a speck in the vast mosaic of death shaped by the Trimurti System.
I’ve seen villages burned to the ground, children imprisoned in cages like pigs fattened for slaughter, and cities destroyed by giant beasts, and that’s just in Western Europe. Basil stared at the casualty number. All continents must have been in terrible shape to reach six billion deaths. Is the Apocalypse Force rampaging across Asia right now? How many Americans managed to grab a gun before the Unity’s gearsmen invaded their cities? Is any country out there still standing?
Considering how the System transformed cats into killing machines, he shuddered to imagine what the likes of Australia or the Amazon Forest looked like.
Whatever the case, the Trimurti System had to go. Basil doubted that mankind would survive to reach 2024 otherwise.
As a reward for your perseverance, Dismaker Labs shall grant you one day of respite. No one will take any damage from the first second of December 31st to its last! Attacks, poison, everything will be reduced to 0 with no catch, no pain, and no consequences. Ever wanted to challenge that level 60 [Dragon] but never found the courage to? Now is the time for some friendly competition!
The second part of the Event will start on January 1st, 2023. Stay tuned.
Out of all the things that Dismaker Labs could have done, giving humanity one day’s respite terrified Basil the most.
He had met Anton Maxwell, the unbelievably cruel engineer behind the Trimurti System. That man fed on others suffering like a vampire fed on blood. He knew nothing of mercy. If he gave people peace and hope, it was to better twist the knife later on.
“Let’s see…” Basil summoned his halberd in his right hand and lightly cut his left with the blade. Normally, this would have been just enough to draw blood. It didn’t. His weapon, which had cut Horsemen of the Apocalypse and dragon scales alike, failed to slice through his naked skin. The burning metal blade simply bounced off him as if he were made of a fantastic metal. He didn’t even feel pain or discomfort.
Damage negated. Sorry bud.
“Poor masochists,” Basil muttered to himself before forwarding a message to Benjamin Leroy through his Logs feature. “They’ll count every minute.”
A holographic screen of the sleep-deprived programmer immediately materialized before him. Basil found the sight strangely reassuring. Benjamin took the shape of a bat-winged humanoid with red-rimmed eyes with pitch-black circles around them, but his gaze lacked the madness that had once made him so unsettling. He looked strangely banal for a god. “Yes, Basil?”
“You’ve seen the Event’s message?” Basil asked, causing the programmer to nod sharply. “Any idea what the second half of it will entail? Somehow I don’t think 2023 will start with cheers.”
“The Trimurti System’s core AI generates the Events on its own, so I cannot say what awaits us exactly.” Benjamin sighed. “Still, we share the same opinion. This Event is a brief calm before the storm.”
“Could it be a lie?” Basil asked. “Like a classic credit card scam? We postpone today’s damage and take it all at once tomorrow?”
“The System never lies or deceives its users,” Benjamin replied. “The taunts and mockeries are Maxwell’s twist on its programming, but the Trimurti System itself never bends the rules it has set.”
“Maxwell still managed to start an Incursion early in Paris,” Basil pointed out. “Even after the System promised a three-day respite.”
“This exceptional situation happened because I blew up a third of all Neurotowers. This caused the System to adapt in a hurry and left room for Maxwell to alter the resulting patch.” Benjamin shook his head. “I do not believe you have anything to fear today. Tomorrow will be another matter though, especially with the activity I’m noticing from the Unity.”
Basil frowned as he sat back on the bed, his halberd vanishing. He had expected to leave for breakfast soon, but the programmer’s tone was nothing short of ominous. “There’s news on the Unity front?”
Benjamin nodded sharply. “I am detecting a huge spike in energy coming from their artificial server network on the moon. They are accumulating power.”
The calm before the storm indeed. “For what purpose?”
“I would need access to their network to confirm,” the programmer replied. “My current theory is that they intend to trigger a mini-Incursion and summon allies from their homeworld, though I may be wrong.”
Basil cursed, doubly so when he noticed Vasi had stopped snoring. 2023 was sure to start with fireworks.
“On the good side of things, your necromancer friend has provided the necessary spell formulas to complete my portal design,” Benjamin said. “Between us, I struggled to understand half of the data he sent me. It appears his world’s System follows different laws than our own. Still, it was enough to complete my booby-trapped gem. Once you gain access to a Unity Neurotower, I’ll forward it to you and we’ll begin an assault on their base.”
“I’ll see with our allies here if we can coordinate an assault,” Basil said as Vasi rose from the bed, still wearing lingerie. “Gotta go now, Ben. We’ll keep in touch.”
“Same.”
“And though it’s a bit early…” Basil smiled. “A happy new year to you.”
For perhaps the first time since they met, Benjamin Leroy smiled back, albeit sadly. “Thank you, Basil,” he said, his voice breaking. “I… I won’t lie. I thought I would spend New Year’s Eve with Celia, once I… had brought her back.”
Basil kept his mouth shut. The sorrow in Benjamin’s eyes was all too vivid. His shoulders slumped as if crushed under the weight of his disappointment.
“I killed these people,” the programmer said, his words brimming with guilt. “Six billion lives lost… because of my foolishness.”
“You contributed,” Basil admitted. As much as he wanted to spare his feelings, that was the truth. Benjamin Leroy did help to destroy the world. “Your Neurotower sabotage helped save people though. That counts.”
“It did… Ashok’s model calculated a ninety-five percent casualty rate for the first year. Mankind is faring better than expected.” Benjamin let out a dark, joyless chuckle. “Still, I expected to spend the New Year alone in a cell for my crimes. Instead your friend Elissalde and her sister offered me to have dinner with them… and their dogs. I’ll eat between a human and a Doberman, and I’m more afraid of the former. It’s almost funny.”
“My best friend is a cat, so I’m not judging,” Basil replied without any hint of sarcasm. “The Elissalde sisters won’t bite though.”
“They won’t,” Benjamin mused. “I just can’t fathom why they would let me stay with them after all I’ve done.”
“Because they are willing to give you a second chance, as I did,” Basil replied. “Hopefully, it’ll leave you with something to look forward to for next year.”
“I hope the same for you,” Benjamin replied before cutting the communication. “Happy new year, Basil.”
The holographic screen closed on itself. Basil looked over his shoulder. Vasi was waiting for him fully dressed.
“Sorry I woke you up.” Basil lightly kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. “I didn’t mean to.”
“The waffles smell woke me up, my bear knight.” Vasi pecked him on the lips. She tasted sweeter than any breakfast. “Benjamin seems stabler.”
“He is improving,” Basil confirmed as they walked out of the bedroom. “He has friends now.”
“I honestly thought you were making a mistake when you decided to spare him,” Vasi confessed. “I usually don’t enjoy being in the wrong… but this time is an exception.”
Was there any greater personal triumph than proving doubters wrong?
Basil walked into the main room of the Steamobile, where the rest of his party had already gathered for breakfast; even Rosemarine, who remained satiated on a steady diet of shrinking potions. His mother was also present and discussing something with a surprise guest.
“Mr. Bohen.” Simeon Nicholae was already wearing his paladin armor even so early in the morning. He alone stood next to the room’s table, while everyone else was already sitting. “I hope not to intrude.”
“You can call me by my name,” Basil replied warmly before moving to kiss his mother on the cheeks. “Good morning, Mom.”
“Good morning,” his mother replied before kissing him and doing the same with Vasi. “Mr. Nicholae wanted to talk with you, so I invited him for breakfast.”
“I’m afraid I must refuse, Mrs. Bohen,” the paladin replied politely. “I have a war council in half an hour.”
“Do you require my presence?” Basil asked with a frown. “Is something the matter?”
“Unfortunately, it appears that the Unity has assembled troops near Shumen,” Simeon replied, much to the team’s distress. “They remain outside our artillery range and haven’t made any hostile action so far, but their numbers and levels are worrying. Scouts mention level fifty gearsmen among their numbers.”
“They must be waiting for tomorrow to assault the city,” Vasi guessed immediately. “Attacking now would only waste ammunition.”
Simeon nodded sharply. “This truce will only last until 2022’s last second. Can I count on you to help repel the assault once the countdown reaches its end?”
“Of course,” Basil replied with a snort. How could he even doubt it? “We’ll assist your troops in the field.”
“Especially now that we’ve got boosters of our own!” Shellgirl added. She tossed a pouch on the table filled to the brim with magical spheres associated with various elements. Basil noticed boosters associated with Frost, Water, and even Physical. “We’re set for life!”
Basil’s matter-of-fact answer reassured Simeon. “Excellent,” said the paladin leader. “I’ve heard from your mother that you and your girlfriend would leave the city for a while, so I worried that you might become unavailable.”
Vasi crossed her arms, unable to hide her anxiety. “We won’t be gone for long. A few hours at most.”
“The rest of the team will stay in the city as well,” Basil added. “Even if the Unity tries anything before our return, they will help defend the city in our absence.”
“What?” Plato, who had been more interested in the waffles than the conversation, all but bolted out of his seat. “Even me? I’m not invited?”
“In my world, cats are…” Vasi smiled in embarrassment. She was clearly trying to avoid an uncomfortable truth. “Popular.”
Plato squinted at her. “How is that a point against my presence?”
“Popular from a gustatory point of view.” Vasi’s smile grew strained. “Cats are considered a delicacy in Outremonde, especially since you can eat them more than once. Nine lives are as often a curse as they are a blessing.”
Basil considered himself a gourmet willing to cross many lines in his quest for the ultimate dish. But the people of Outremonde had walked down a dark path that even he wouldn’t have dared to tread.
Plato looked up at Vasi without a word, his expression one of absolute horror and confusion. “Did you–”
“I never ate a cat,” Vasi thought it wise to add.
“We don’t intend to,” Basil reassured Plato. “I promise you.”
“You madmen,” Plato muttered under his breath. Rosemarine pushed a plate full of honeyed waffles in his direction in an attempt to change his mind, only for the traumatized feline to ignore it. “You will mingle with barbarians. Barbarians!”
“Are you sure you’ll be safe, Boss?” Bugsy asked out of concern. “We could attend as your bodyguards.”
“I am only allowed to bring one person with me,” Vasi said. “The invitation works both ways though. I’ve checked.”
“So if the party goes wrong, we’ll immediately return home,” Basil replied. And if anyone threatened Vasi during that time, he would cut a few heads on his way out.
Simeon threatened to open his mouth to ask more questions, swiftly realized ignorance was bliss and changed the subject. “I will forward you the information through the messaging feature if we require reinforcements,” he said with a fist against his chest. “Until then, enjoy New Year’s Eve.”
Basil’s crew bade him goodbye and then sat to enjoy his mother’s breakfast. Her waffles were topped with honey, chocolate, and marmalade. Eating all of them at once would give any man diabetes. He would enjoy them all the same.
“You’ve missed those, haven’t you?” His mother teased him. “Admit it.”
“Oh yes,” Basil admitted with a mouthful of waffles. He looked around the table to see if anybody wanted more chocolate and quickly noticed missing faces. “Where’s Kalki?”
“He said he would visit the monument on the hill, Mister,” Rosemarine replied.
“Garud and Shesha all but dragged him away to change his mind,” Bugsy added with squinting eyes. “He didn’t look well, Boss.”
How could he? Kalki blamed himself for the Trimurti System’s destruction. Today’s message must have filled him with grief and guilt. Basil would have a talk with him after he returned from Vasi’s family meeting. For now, he guessed it would be best to let Garud and Shesha handle him; they knew their Tamer best.
“Yo, Vasi,” Shellgirl grinned at her best friend. “Throw something at me!”
“Throw what?” Vasi asked with a puzzled face as she chewed a waffle.
“A chair, a glass, a fireball, anything!” When Vasi looked too confused to take her up on her offer, Shellgirl turned to Bugsy. “Come on, let’s show her!”
“You’ll see, it’s fun!” Bugsy grabbed an empty glass cup and threw it at the mimic’s chest. Shellgirl laughed as the projectile rebounded off her chest and into the ground. It didn’t surprise Basil. The glass not shattering on impact did, however.
“Wait a second,” Basil whispered as he put two and two together. “When the System said that all damage would be reduced to zero–”
“That’s right, Boss!” Bugsy threw a porcelain plate at Shellgirl and cackled upon seeing it bounce off her breasts. “Nothing takes damage today. Not even items and furniture!”
“Come on, Plato, throw your sword at me,” Shellgirl said, all but begging to be used at target practice. Basil wondered if she enjoyed it. “Needle me!”
“I’ll pass.” The Rakshasa Kitten hadn’t moved an inch since Vasi’s revelations. “I can’t find joy over the thought of all my kindred being eaten alive. This is a feline holocaust… a meowicide.”
Basil petted his cat on the head. “We’ll try to save as many from the buffet as we can.”
He doubted it would amount to much, but Plato nodded in thankfulness all the same.
“You must be so excited to meet your father, dear,” Aleksandra told Vasi. “Will your mother attend as well?”
“Excited… that’s a way to put it,” Vasi replied with an expression that said otherwise. Anxious might have been the better term. “As for my mother, I doubt so. She was never the social kind of witch.”
Aleksandra raised an eyebrow. “How did she meet your father then?”
“I don’t know.” Vasi bit her lower lip. “She never told me much about him, and I’m afraid to learn why.”
“If he is in any way wise, he will welcome you with open arms.” Aleksandra took Vasi’s hand into her own and squeezed it. “You’re one of the liveliest, most gentle young women I’ve ever seen. If he cannot appreciate you, then you should slap him.”
“Thank you, but I doubt we’ll get that far,” Vasi replied with a coy smirk. “We’ll just take a look at my father and leave.”
Why did you spend last night thinking about your dress then? Basil thought. His girlfriend had spent two hours grilling him about which clothes they should wear during the family meeting, before settling on their adventurer gear. Better to be prepared for a fight than a ball.
After finishing breakfast, Aleksandra decided to stay a bit longer to help clean the dishes and help Shellgirl with her ‘business.’ She also promised to take care of Rosemarine, Plato, and Bugsy in her son’s absence. Basil guessed that after losing so many people in Varna, she enjoyed social activity.
Knowing his mother would be in good hands allowed Basil to relax a little as he put on his armor and Pèth cloak. With Vasi dressed as a witch and him as a knight, they truly made a lovely pair. He wondered how they would fit among the meeting’s guests.
Vasi summoned her invitation with a long, heavy sigh. “Ready, Handsome?”
“Are you?” Basil replied.
“No, but it will have to do.” Vasi seized the invitation with both hands. “One, two…”
Vasi severed the envelope and a flash of light swallowed them both.
You have left your world for a Trimurti System-compatible one. Some of your Perks and Stats might function differently. Your abilities will return to normal when you go back to Earth.
Warning: your Magic Stat has been merged with Intelligence (average value of 52 selected).
Welcome to the plane of [Outremonde].