Apocalypse Forecast

The stars shine, but the sun is invisible.

This world seems eternally silent.

The ground trembles, countless specks of dust silently rise, reflecting firelight, quietly dancing in the dark.

On the enormous structures above, countless air leaks form rapidly spouting white mist, rushing into the vacuum, while terrifying cold floods indoors.

Exchange of goods and services.

They look like big-headed dolls running on the barren earth.

The figures are shrouded in bulky gray spacesuits, gripping specially modified guns and weapons, pulling the trigger at the guards beyond the rift.

In the low-gravity vacuum, they nimbly leap on the ground, silently delivering death to the enemy, and silently greeting their own death.

Hear the sound of breaking and shouting.

At the instant of confirmed death, flames from within engulf everything, ultimately even the spacesuits are decomposed under Alchemy, merging into the dust.

Only a wisp of flying ash remains.

Amidst intense crossfire, the alarms inside Lunar Prison blare one after another.

The first thing the security manager does is press the red button in front of them, causing gates to drop in A1B1C1 three danger zones, forcibly sealing prisoners and guards inside with indisputable orders.

The identities of those prisoners are too sensitive, their represented value too precious; they cannot be killed, nor allowed to leave here.

The only way was complete isolation.

Once the alarm is sounded, everything inside instantly freezes into a block in the foam gushing out, before which everyone falls asleep, both physically and in soul, entirely stagnant.

Under cryogenic sleep, their bodies can sustain for more than seventy-two hours. The frozen foam maintains hardness surpassing steel, connecting with the entire prison’s base layer.

Unless the entire Lunar Prison is blasted to the sky, no one can take anything from inside.

The only liquid capable of dissolving this substance is stored in Current Circumstances London.

At the moment the button is pressed, the search and rescue team prepares to set out—if they cannot arrive within seventy-two hours, all prisoners and staff inside face death.

But even if value is buried in eternal chilly lunar soil, it does not allow anyone to take it.

However... now, the gushing foam fails to cover everything.

In the control room, the security manager looks up, seeing the pale foam sweeping across B1 layer rapidly dissolve, leaving only a floor of ashes.

Instead, it seals off the entrance, isolating all support.

Inside the deeply buried detention facilities, endless intruders appear in front of the camera, swiftly killing all obstacles.

They were well-prepared for all defense measures.

This is a long-planned prison break.

Ignoring the more precious targets on either side, they stride forward, familiar and without hesitation, directly towards the corridor’s edge.

Rudely breaking the outer force field, then skillfully burning through the iron door with Omnifactor Dissolvent.

Revealing the prisoners restrained in layers from the darkness.

B1-8771.

The elderly man with thin hair is confined in a straitjacket-like restraint, raises his head, and grins, showing a mocking smile to the surveillance camera.

With opened lips, saliva drips from the corner of his mouth, while his teeth glow with frost-like brilliance, vaguely revealing runes.

Without the aid of attackers, the layers of shackles on him drop off effortlessly.

As if shaking off dust.

Returning to freedom.

Just like that, he casually steps out of the cage that held him for thirty years, stretches lazily, turns back, speaking to the intruders.

Then he sees a pitch-black handgun rise.

Pointed at his forehead.

The elderly man freezes for a moment.

Behind the dark mask, the attacker’s expression is unclear, no words spoken. Just indifferently pulls the trigger, shattering the vessel of life, causing crimson to spurt from the skull.

The old man falls in a stupor, confused to the end.

Then, the attack leader lowers the muzzle, aiming for his head, heart, and other vital spots, repeatedly pulling the trigger until empty, confirming the residual breath has stopped. Curse bombs instantly pollute all Source Substance, shattering and corrupting the Soul.

Finally, the attacker changes clips, turns the muzzle, aiming at their own subordinates.

Erasing traces of action one by one.

In the end, only he remains, burning himself into a heap of black ash in front of the surveillance camera.

The attack ends in this instant.

Never considered taking prisoners from inside, nor planned the retreat, sweeping away all traces including their own, leaving only the tragic result.

Before internal guards could respond, it was all over.

Just as Huai Shi arrived at Mitra Space Station, outside Lunar Prison α zone, prisoner B1-8771—Great Grandmaster ’Publius Augustus’—ceased breathing.

Violating three major blockades, breaching sixteen Stone Pot Society taboos, committing hundreds of crimes causing the death of tens of thousands, the Alchemist who struggled for thirty years suddenly meets death.

And at the towering altitude of the space station, Huai Shi leans against the window, looking down at the rising firelight in the dark side, involuntarily admiring.

"Wow, you lunar folk sure have style... celebrating with fireworks huh?"

"..."

.

.

Thirty minutes ago.

On the Mitra Space Station, the Earth-Moon Space Research Base of Rome, Huai Shi met the station chief, a middle-aged scholar who rarely smiled, in the circular gravity simulation area.

As the host, he invited this rare visitor to join him for dinner.

——Fluid food, standard for space stations.

"Following the commission from Helios Workshop, we will escort you to the ground observation station in an hour when we pass around the Kepler Crater area.

Afterward, you will depart with the alchemists from the Stone Pot Society... If you need any help, please feel free to ask."

"Just make sure there’s plenty to eat and drink."

Huai Shi sucked on the paste-like food in the bag, staring at the dark space and rotating Moon outside the cabin window: "But there’s one thing I don’t quite understand—Has it always been this troublesome to travel to Helios? Do we always have to travel so far on the way?"

"No, transporting someone suitable for Helios is also a first for us,"

The station chief replied: "In the past, Helios would directly come to the Current Circumstances to receive passengers, but this time, for some reason, it did not approach the Earth-Moon System, and instead, the transport task was transferred to various genealogies through its existing contract with the Stone Pot Society.

I am not clear on the specifics; you can inquire with the Stone Pot Society’s workers after arriving on the lunar surface... As far as I know, the person leading the team this time is Mr. Grandmaster Garland; he should know more."

"Are you referring to Garandor?"

Huai Shi paused for a moment, slightly caught off guard.

Grandmaster Garland, the oldest and most influential alchemist in the Current Circumstances, a high-level member of the Stone Pot Society, and a pillar of the academic world.

A peak in the conversion chemistry in Alchemy without a doubt.

Even several generations separate Grandmaster Mikhail when compared to him.

Before Mikhail’s teacher even entered the field, old Mr. Garland was already a grandmaster. Because of his lofty status, alchemists respectfully refer to him as ’Garandor’, and almost all existing alchemists have been in contact with and learned from this old man’s theories and techniques. To this day, no one has reached his level.

This immediately put some pressure on Huai Shi.

If such a celebrated master is leading the team, this commission from Helios is probably not ordinary!

Someone like Huai Shi, who relies solely on Soul Ability besides the power of Forgers, might not even be able to get in line to carry the luggage.

For a moment, he found himself quite confused.

Having such a big shot around, it’s hard to muddle through and create trouble...

Huai Shi pinched his chin, lost in thought, already eyeing the rejuvenation crystals on Helios. If there’s really no way... he might have to do something rash just like Luo Su said!

Aren’t they all teachers from the Ivory Tower, can Luo Su touch the crystals on this vehicle and not Huaihai Road Little Peppa?

While he was contemplating his mischievous plan, he heard a disturbance in the rotating gravity chamber, and countless people emerged from the corners boldly and energetically.

A high-pitched sound echoed.

As if someone had sounded a heavy horn in space.

The broadcast responded with the sound of drums.

Everyone roared excitedly.

Huai Shi looked up and was dumbfounded.

Right before him, the station chief had already stripped off his cumbersome coat and pants, spread his arms, and the approaching staff surrounded him, continuously outfitting him with ring armor, battle skirt, a bright red helmet, cloak, scepter, and treasure sword.

When the crowd dispersed, the stern and scholarly station chief before Huai Shi had transformed into an angry and majestic Ten Thousand Chief!

"What are you all doing!"

Huai Shi instinctively leaned back strategically, looking around in shock.

——The Romans want to harm me!

Immediately afterward, the station chief spoke.

"Sorry for leaving briefly." He raised his treasure sword and boldly said: "Rome needs me! The people need me!"

Immediately, hundreds of astronauts dressed as Roman soldiers raised their hands in a fervent roar.

Almost like they were preparing for battle!

But no, the excited expressions... look more like they were celebrating.

In the monitoring room, before the observation system, the navigator shouted: "——Enemy four hundred kilometers away!!! Three hundred and fifty kilometers, everyone prepared!!!"

Instantly, a tide of people rushed to the edge of the circular gravity simulation warehouse, standing in formation before the giant bay window facing space!

Roaring toward the distant shining steel star.

Even though sound cannot travel in a vacuum.

Opposite the Mitra Space Station, in the distant darkness, another large rectangular space station slowly emerged, bearing America’s flag.

The rapidly enlarging projection on the glass, resembling a quick zoom-in.

Behind the slowly opening armor plates, were similarly numerous silhouettes emerging under the lights.

Everyone held their breath, faces flushed.

’War’ is about to start!

Amidst the silence, Huai Shi stared dumbfounded, holding his plastic-packaged watermelon jelly.

Eating melon.

...What is this?