Zero to Peak: Ascension Online

The unfortunate alien that barged into the room met the micro-explosives head-on. The contact triggered a powerful detonation that shattered that side of the building and hurled the creature three blocks down the street. The sight of an alien hurtling through buildings caused massive chaos on the streets below.

Somehow, Valentine managed to battle three aliens inside Ivan's living room. Despite being on the defensive, he was dictating the flow of the fight. He controlled the force of every blow the assailants threw, preventing the impacts from collapsing the apartment floor.

Ivan sensed a figure move past his floor, heading towards the roof. The alien is trying to attack from above, he thought.

Valentine also detected the movement overhead but was too preoccupied to deal with the threat. "Get away from here! There's a threat from above!" he yelled.

Ivan acted as if he hadn't heard. The ceiling suddenly imploded downwards. Ivan's gaze snapped upwards. In an instant, he donned his regal black armour and threw a heavy right fist towards the point of entry. The punch connected squarely, and the power he channelled into the blow launched the alien high out of the building.

The crashing ceiling had distracted Roger, so he didn't see his friend suddenly clad himself in armour. Valentine had forced the other three aliens out of the living room. Roger looked around for his friend, but the person closest to him was a stranger—a figure in black armour with ornate, golden designs.

Ivan raised his hands, ready to calm Roger should he panic. To his surprise, Roger remained calm.

"Ivan?" Roger looked around, then bent down to search through the rubble, seemingly oblivious to the chaos outside the room.

He stood up and asked the armoured figure, "Did you see Ivan?"

Ivan wanted to reveal he was the one behind the mask, but he sighed.

"He's okay. I evacuated him to somewhere safe."

"Your Holiness, Mr Pillar," a familiar voice said calmly.

Saint Afram Angouleme had arrived without anyone noticing.

Valentine walked back into the room. His suit had suffered some damage to the gauntlets, helmet, and trousers. A corner of the helmet's visor was shattered, revealing his left eye. He was met with curious gazes from Ivan and Roger.

Valentine glanced at the armoured Ivan before shifting his gaze to Roger. "One of my allies dealt with the aliens. But two of them are still on the loose. We need to get you to safety, Roger."

"I will take it from here, Valentine. I'm more than capable of ensuring His Holiness' safety," Saint Angouleme said gently.

Valentine hesitated, looking to Ivan for an opinion on the matter. Ivan remained indifferent, so Valentine had no choice but to approve the handover.

"You are a gentleman," Saint Angouleme said with a smile. He snapped his fingers, and Roger vanished from the room.

Ivan stepped back, wary of the strange power Saint Angouleme had just displayed. He glanced at Valentine, who seemed unfazed. Valentine then turned and exited the room.

"Do you want to tag along? There is plenty of room."

Ivan unsummoned his armour, reverting to his normal outfit — a white button-up shirt and light grey shorts.

"My apartment is ruined. There's no point in hanging around. Let's go."

Saint Angouleme stood shoulder to shoulder with Ivan, and in an instant, they both vanished from the wrecked apartment.

Ivan had briefly considered contacting Brainboss for help but decided against it, thinking the Liberation Force might be preoccupied with other matters.

The moment news of the alien attack on Ivan's apartment was broadcast to the rest of Section 2, there was wide-scale chaos. People ran helter-skelter, trying to secure their own lives and those of their loved ones. The government had to deploy a vast number of police officers to combat the unrest.

In the secret trenches at the periphery of the post-apocalyptic strip of land in Section 3, the residents were going about their daily lives.

Unknown to them, Chairperson Beam had launched a missile at them.

Above the sky, in the cold serenity of space, some kilometres above Torn Indigo's atmosphere, the Unds had a stealthy warship satellite hovering above. It was unknown whether the powerhouses in Section 1 and Section 2 were aware of this clandestine weapon of destruction.

At Chairperson Beam's command, the satellite's central chassis split open, revealing more than twenty armoured silos arranged in a honeycomb pattern. A silo gate retracted with the silent hum of disengaging magnetic locks. A visible vent of cool air surged out, chilling the missile's heating thrust systems.

A combination of magneto-hydrodynamic drives and cold thrusters pushed the missile out of the silo and away from the satellite. Once it was a safe distance away, the missile's main thrusters ignited, driving it towards the secret trench on Section 3.

The true horror began.

The missile was an MIRV (Multiple Independently-targetable Reentry Vehicle). As it descended into the skies of Torn Indigo, the main thrusters gradually cut out, and hover thrusters came online, orienting the dispenser with incredible accuracy.

With each minute adjustment, a single, conical reentry vehicle would detach, its ablative shield glowing a dull red as it began its descent.

In sequence, twelve warheads were deployed. Each vehicle, equipped with its own inertial guidance and atmospheric thrusters, made slight adjustments to its flight path, branching off from the others. They fanned out to form a terrifying, unseen grid above, with every warhead zeroing in on a specific, pre-assigned target within the 250-square-kilometre settlement.

Below, the unsuspecting population in their trenches continued their lives. They would never see the silent, spreading constellation of death descending. There was no single contrail, no unified roar of incoming ordnance.

Above the surface of the trench, Brainboss_7 had appeared, like a guardian waiting to save his faithful followers from the cruel arms of death. His gaze was fixed at the sky, watching the descent of the grid of warheads.

He stretched forth his left hand towards the sky, casting his awe-striking power: Collect.

The descending warheads suddenly vanished from the sky, secured as cold missiles in his inventory.

Meanwhile, the MIRV bus, completely depleted of fuel, crashed harmlessly to the ground a safe distance away from the trenches.