Re: Apocalypse Game

The port town exuded an idyllic charm that seemed to transcend time itself. The gentle breeze from the sea carried the faint scent of salt water, invigorating the senses of the players. The picturesque view of tall palm trees swaying gracefully against the azure sky created a tranquil ambiance, inviting the players to momentarily forget the horrors they had just faced in the previous game.

As Alan strolled through the cobblestone streets, he marveled at the captivating architecture of the colonial buildings that adorned the town. The ornate facades and quaint designs seemed straight out of a history book, transporting him back to the Age of Exploration during the 15th century. It was as if he had been plucked from the modern world and dropped into a charming port city of yesteryears.

Amidst this scene of serenity, dozens of NPCs stood ready to cater to the diverse needs of the players. Their friendly faces and helpful demeanor offered a comforting presence. From food and drinks to messages and even companionship, these NPCs were prepared to assist the players in any way possible. Whether someone sought a hearty meal to replenish their energy or to find solace amidst the chaos, the NPCs were there to provide comfort and support.

The Alien had meticulously crafted the entire port town with one purpose in mind: to create a haven for the players. Just like a sailor returning from an arduous voyage, the participants needed a place to unwind and recuperate from the emotional and physical toll of the game.

This was the purpose of the transit town. A sanctuary to rejuvenate the minds and bodies of exhausted players after their grueling experience in the Apocalypse Game. It provided a brief respite, allowing them to process the harrowing events they had just endured and prepare for the challenges that lay ahead in the next round.

Yet, despite the apparent calm and the inviting atmosphere of the port town, time was their most precious commodity. The players had only 24 hours to rest, regroup, and ready themselves for the next game.

Alan had a clear goal in mind, and he couldn't wait to start his plans. Nevertheless, he knew that now was not the time for such pursuits.

As expected, a moment later he saw crowds of people moving in a single direction towards the main street. Not long after that, one male player with an army haircut and uniform approached him.

"Sir, please gather at the central square. There will be a briefing by the US military," said the male in a straightforward manner.

Thousands of players moved toward the center of the port town like a swarm of ants. Upon arriving, Alan could see dozens of people donning army uniforms standing in an orderly line facing the crowd of thousands.

When most of the people present were still wearing standard plain clothes or even in the red beginner suits, looking at these dozens of army outfits, these people were wearing did give some level of credibility to the crowd.

As the players gathered in an orderly fashion, Alan felt a sense of anticipation building within him. His eyes scanned the crowd, and amidst the sea of faces, he noticed someone approaching him with familiar enthusiasm.

"Alan!" a voice called out cheerfully. It was Vicky, her face lighting up with joy as she hurriedly approached him. "I am so glad to see you. I was so worried you wouldn't make it."

Alan's heart warmed at the sight of Vicky's genuine concern. Before he could respond, he heard another familiar voice chiming in. "Mister D, Mister D!" It was Daniel, followed by Milo and Luis, all rushing to find him.

"Why are we gathering here?" Vicky inquired curiously, seeking an explanation for the sudden assembly.

Alan was about to provide them with some answers, but he held his words back as it became evident that the gathering was about to begin. The bustling crowd settled into an expectant hush, awaiting the commencement of the forthcoming briefing.

In the distance, a commanding figure caught everyone's attention. An African-American man, sporting an army haircut and uniform, ascended the stairs of a prominent building in front of the square. His presence was striking, and his posture exuded confidence.

It didn't take long for Alan to recognize the man as Sergeant Dylan O'Connor, one of his cherished friends. In his previous life, he had witnessed the sergeant meet a gruesome fate, torn apart by a monstrous bug. The sight of him alive and well now filled Alan with immense relief and joy.

Standing on the platform, the African-American man maintained his firm stance, his gaze unwaveringly directed at all of the players in front of him. Immediately after that, he gave a thunderous shout, "Attention!!.. Fall in!!"

As soon as the sergeant's words echoed through the air, hundreds of players sprang into action, forming lines in front of the stairs with military precision. However, some remained unsure, watching from the back, trying to make sense of the unfolding scene.

With a commanding presence, the sergeant shouted again, "That's right! Fall in!! We don't have all day, ladies!! Fall in!! Now! Now!!" His powerful voice left no room for hesitation, and the players quickly organized themselves into orderly lines, resembling a true army formation.

Following that, a middle-aged man who looked to be in his forties slowly and deliberately made his way onto the stage. Many in the crowd recognized him as he was introduced briefly at the training center.

Captain Sam Carter of the US Marines with 20 years of battlefield experience and veteran of the game.

Everyone focused their attention on the man while nervously waiting for what he would say.

"Hours ago, we just experienced hell; we all did."

The captain paused for a second before continuing, "We still have a few more hell in front of us, and for us to be able to survive till the end, we have to work together."

The captain stared at the thousands in front of him and said,

"Most of you are not marines, but from today and for the rest of the game, I will be your commander until I die or I find someone better."

The words the man spoke were brief and curt, but everything he said was on point, straight to the heart of the matter.

He was a real American hero willing to be assigned by the government to lead a bunch of civilians with questionable abilities until the end of the Apocalypse Game with his battalion of 1000 men.

The captain then proceeded to continue his speech by saying,

"I am here right now to brief the plan for the second round, and I am looking for 200 civilians to join our ranks."

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