“Congratulations, survivor, on surviving the first calamity, the Polar Blizzard. The current world will now merge with the main world. Estimated merge time: 1 hour.”
“Survivor Thomas Smyth, you have one opportunity to relocate your hideout. Please select a new location within 1 hour. This relocation is permanent, so choose carefully.”
The hideout trembled with increasing frequency for five minutes before settling down. Thomas remained motionless, his nerves taut. Only when the tremors ceased did he relax, noticing a new stainless-steel chain and oval metal tag around his neck.
[Dog Tag]
Name: Thomas Smyth
Race: Blue Star - Human
Calamities Survived: 1
Faction: Survivor
---
“So, this is a dog tag,” he murmured. Recalling the announcement, he stowed his weapons and opened the Apocalypse Game panel. A flashing wrench icon on the hideout panel indicated the relocation option.
Initially surprised, as the game had stated the hideout’s location was permanent, he quickly understood. The first calamity was a tutorial, weeding out the weak and acclimating survivors to the game’s mechanics. Offering a relocation opportunity after this introductory phase made sense.
But should he relocate? The answer was a resounding yes. Black Dog’s search and Ghostface’s infiltration had exposed his hideout’s vulnerability. The former monitoring room was a protruding structure, easily identifiable despite the camouflage sticker. The refugees’ lack of awareness had been his saving grace. A protruding structure with no visible entrance was inherently suspicious.
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The question was where to move. Back in his living area, he sat by the fireplace, pondering his options. He concluded that remaining within the station was the safest and most practical choice.
First, he couldn’t abandon the virtual map, his primary source of intelligence. It had been instrumental in his early successes, guiding him to eliminate threats and acquire resources.
Second, the station offered unparalleled concealment and access. The tunnels provided escape routes in two directions, allowing him to navigate the city’s underground network. He could use the subway map to reach any destination, expanding his reach like a spiderweb. However, the merged world would likely introduce other survivors and refugees into the tunnels, a potential risk he’d need to address. His Nightwalker title, cloak, and mask would provide a significant advantage in the darkness.
Third, the station’s underground location, combined with his hideout’s bunker nature, minimized the impact of most calamities. The upcoming Great Flood posed little threat. Once the Intelligence Center was complete, he could deploy the Holographic Barrier, providing waterproofing and camouflage. Submerged deep within the flooded station, his hideout would be virtually impregnable. The Son of the Ocean serum would enable underwater travel. The next calamity wouldn’t be a disaster, but an opportunity.
He was more concerned about the human element. He recalled Caban and his crew at the Opera House, their unexpected tactical prowess and intelligence. Upon reflection, it raised a red flag. “Likely, with Mad Dog and The Butcher gone, Caban, as the last remaining refugee leader, received a boost from the game. Perhaps that was their true potential all along.”
“I can’t underestimate the refugees in the real game. That would be a fatal mistake.”
This realization clarified his priorities. His new hideout needed to be defensible against hostile survivors, rebels, and cultists. He scanned the virtual map of Garden Station, searching for a location that offered maximum concealment. He dismissed obvious rooms and prominent structures. Hidden corners were also unsuitable. Then, a particular spot caught his eye.