Zero to Peak: Ascension Online

Although the Unds had planted underground missile bunkers around the trenches, for some unknown reason, the missiles had never targeted the trenches themselves.

The ground trembled before the bunkers' heavy silo doors screeched open, releasing a flurry of missiles on columns of fire and smoke, all targeting Brainboss.

Brainboss cast a power with a single word: Counterstrike. An unseen wave of force rippled through the air and struck the missiles, causing them to blossom into brilliant, incandescent spheres of fire. The shockwave, a deafening crescendo of detonations, reverberated across the ground, powerfully unsettling the residents in the earth below.

However, the residents did not panic. Years of this precarious existence had taught them discipline. They scurried into the deepest parts of their burrows and braced themselves for whatever was to come.

Brainboss's unbuttoned trench coat began to billow violently as if caught in a strong gust of wind, though the air was still. A strange lightness took hold of him, and he ascended into the sky like a wingless bird. He rose effortlessly, moving a safe distance away from his starting point to ensure the next, larger salvo wouldn't inflict collateral harm on the trenches below.

A salvo of over five thousand missiles now headed towards the detective-class special character. It seemed the aliens had finally pinpointed the true nature of what was located in the area. Some of the missiles hurtled directly towards Brainboss, a swarm of self-propelled death, while the others ascended perfectly vertically before tipping over, arcing down towards the vulnerable trenches.

Brainboss once again cast Counterstrike at the missiles directed at him and was completely engulfed in a blinding flash of flames and thick, black smoke. Without a moment's hesitation, he deftly traversed the roiling cloud, reappearing at his previous position as if he had never moved.

He raised a hand and cast Collect, intending to absorb the remaining ordnance into his inventory. But the missiles remained, continuing their deadly descent. A flicker of surprise crossed his features; they were somehow able to counter his formidable power. He quickly cast Counterstrike again, but this time, only a small fraction of the missiles exploded; the others continued on their path, completely unscathed.

He moved aside, allowing the missiles to descend. They did not, however, impact the ground. They exploded upon hitting an incomprehensible cloud formation that had appeared from nowhere — a shimmering, featureless expanse of grey.

LORE: The Torn Indigo is a complicated reality. The world is not spherical like the Earth we know. It is more like a closed-world game. There are defined boundaries that characters in this reality cannot explore beyond.

The incomprehensible cloud was a power cast by The Witch of the Grey Area. It was one of her newer abilities, and it was the boon that had allowed her to ascend to the rank of "Awakened Transcendent".

The cloud form greatly repressed the explosive force, swallowing the detonations in an unnerving silence. It was akin to an active sound device being put in a vacuum. There was no force, no shockwave, just the silent snuffing out of immense power.

The salvo of missiles was unending, a relentless stream. It seemed the aliens had lost interest in attacking the two powerhouses from the Liberation Force, focusing all their firepower on the trenches. The missiles crashed down ruthlessly on the cloud form to no avail. The cloud was unshakeable, a natural limiting force encoded into the game itself.

The expression on Brainboss's face was uneasy. A subtle frown creased his brow. It wasn't fear, but the cold calculus of a problem he couldn't immediately solve. He said to the Witch, who was levitating silently beside him, "They aren't giving up on attacking the trenches."

"I can see that," the Witch responded, her voice laced with an exasperation born of centuries. "As always, we'll have to warp the location of the trench. It's the only way we can keep them safe without the aliens realising they are here." She let out a soft sigh. "It would be better if these people were relocated somewhere safer. Why do they insist on leaving them here, allowing them to migrate on their own free will?" She shook her head, confused by the enduring mystery.

Brainboss tilted his head slightly to the right, his focus momentarily elsewhere as he received an instruction from the highest echelon of the Liberation Force.

He turned to the Witch. "Hurry, we've been told to finish up quickly and leave. We've been summoned back to the region with a bunch of others to restore peace. There has been a 'mild' breakout of chaos."

The Witch spread her arms and legs wide. A rapid, incomprehensible chant, a torrent of ancient syllables, spilled from her lips. The air crackled with raw, untamed power, and a massive burst of vibrant green energy erupted from her, enveloping the entire region in its ethereal light.

Meanwhile, at the living quarters of the Cathedral of Serenity in Section 1, Ivan, Roger, and Saint Angouleme were in a meeting with Pontiff Sarr, Priest Rio, Priest Edwin, and Priest Makelele.

Each muffled thump from outside sent a faint tremor through the stone floor. The grand stained-glass windows rattled in their leaded frames, their placid scenes of saints disturbed by the violence. An army of Unds soldiers was hurling explosives at the shimmering red dome that enclosed the cathedral.

Pontiff Sarr sat at the head of his long dining table, enjoying a lavish meal. He meticulously cut a piece of roasted meat, dipped it in a rich gravy, and brought it to his lips with a deliberate, unhurried motion. The priests and the recently arrived visitors stood stiffly around the table, patiently waiting for him to finish. Anxious glances were exchanged between them, but none dared to interrupt.

Finally, Saint Angouleme noticed the gazes directed at him, silently urging him to speak up. They recognised him as the only one who was permitted to address the Pontiff while he was eating.

Saint Angouleme closed his eyes and sighed in understanding.

"Pontiff Sarr, your underlings would like to have a word with you," he said, his voice calm and respectful.

Pope Sarr swallowed the food in his mouth and slowly raised his gaze, a look of mild surprise on his face. "Why didn't they say anything? I thought they just wanted to stand here with me." He looked at the anxious faces in the room. "So, what's going on? Why are you all here? Why do you look so restless?"

"Your Holiness, we are in lockdown!" Priest Rio burst out, unable to contain his panic. "The aliens are attacking the cathedral. The whole region is in chaos; they have laid siege to it. The region's military has been overrun. We don't even know if the governor is still alive!"

The Pope sighed, a sound of profound disappointment. He glanced at Rio once more before leaning back in his ornate chair and gazing at the ceiling. "You are worried about the governor and the region. You should be worried about the believers of the Goddess. This chaos is equivalent to a purge. At the end of it all, the Goddess and her people will stand tall, unscathed."

Priest Edwin nervously asked, his hands twisting together, "So, you are saying that the other cathedrals and the believers outside this one are safe?"

The Pope leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and fixing them with a cold stare. "Yes, those cathedrals are safe. Our believers have been rounded up into our various sanctuaries around the region. As for those who refused to come to the sanctuary... they have only themselves to blame for whatever fate they meet."

The priests' expressions of terror eased into ones of relief, but Roger and Ivan were stunned into silence. Ivan's gaze hardened into chips of ice; this was not a man of faith, but a tyrant on a throne. Beside him, Roger's jaw was clenched, his knuckles white with disbelief and moral outrage. They could not believe what they were hearing.