Apocalypse Forecast

That is the most famous and most widely known achievement In Alchemy—Turning Stone into Gold!

In an instant, dazzling gold spread out, almost shrouding the entire lounge.

But faster than that was the flash of the explosion.

It was simply a once-in-a-century accident—

A tiny oversight in the water Cycle system caused seepage, low temperatures cracked the rubber on the cables, and under the interference of moisture a short circuit was triggered; a series of chain reactions led to open flames in the vehicle maintenance bay.

A technician who was refueling was set on fire.

In the end, it triggered an explosion that swept through more than half the base!

Terrifying pressure and heat instantly spread in from outside the lounge, shattered the walls, and surged into the room; even the transformed Gold could not completely stop the hurtling shrapnel.

But with the time that Garandor had fought for, all the Alchemists activated the Border Relics on their bodies that kept them alive; layers of radiance, whirling metal, or icy liquid water surged out, blocking the first wave of scorching impact.

Yet the deafening boom of the explosion and the wailing of shattering bulkheads melded together, and in a flash, the outermost bulkhead of the lounge was torn to pieces; vacuum endlessly sucked away the already thin air, forming a storm that yanked everyone out of the room along with the flames.

Horrific cold, suffocation, and even shifting air pressure assaulted them.

Several Alchemists tumbled on the ground, and before they could get up, they collapsed into the lunar dust, painfully vomiting blood.

"The sun as father, the moon as Mother, born of wind, nurtured by earth—"

A low chant sounded in the rapidly thinning air, and immediately the symbols of the four great elements emerged and intertwined.

On the surface of this Moon, under the reflection of the sun, amid the blowing wind and swirling lunar dust, Alchemy was completed in an instant from Garandor’s hands.

Invisible protection spread out from beneath his feet, instantly covering most of the burning, exploding research base, bringing them a precious thread of oxygen and shelter.

A blessing descended.

Even now, some still had not realized what they had just gone through.

Everyone was in utter disarray; only Iz, who reacted the quickest, was completely unscathed, even with a cigar still clamped at the corner of his mouth.

After brushing the ash that had Dropped onto his collar, he finally showed a look of lingering fear.

Some were already violently coughing up blood under the drastic pressure changes, even losing consciousness. Because work on the lunar surface is fraught with danger, the corresponding prevention and emergency protocols were quite complete.

Soon, under the organization of the base’s researchers, the search-and-rescue teams began rapidly searching for survivors. Several unconscious Alchemists were sent into a temporarily modified work vehicle for surgery.

The rest also changed into spacesuits; everyone except the Great Grandmaster was wrapped in heavy protection.

Even so, accidents kept occurring.

Ragnar’s spacesuit actually had a hole in it, and Valery’s suit, after being struck by the explosion, was somehow releasing pure oxygen.

If not for careful inspections, none of this would have been discovered at all.

The station chief, his face ashen, repeatedly assured everyone that he had already checked; yesterday’s routine safety inspection had also been personally led by him, and there had been absolutely no problem.

Aside from the hot-tempered Ragnar still shouting in rage, the expressions of the others immediately turned grim.

Without a doubt, this was a Curse.

A Disaster-level Curse...

A Curse targeting all the Alchemists present.

"Sorry, I can’t take this, I’m out." A younger Alchemist retreated a few steps, his face ashen as he said, "I’ll pay the price for violating the contract, but I can’t stand this kind of inexplicable thing happening to me."

As he spoke, he took out a Border Relic from the materials pouch he carried with him; though it pained him, he still gritted his teeth and handed it over.

But Garandor did not accept it.

"The penalty for breaching the contract will be paid by the Stone Pot Society. For something like this to happen is the Stone Pot Society’s responsibility." Garandor gave him a glance and said solemnly, "But your qualification will need to be transferred. No problem?"

The young man nodded. Soon, Garand nodded slightly, took the token from his hand, and passed it to a Disciple behind him.

The one who withdrew hurried away.

"Anyone else who wants to withdraw, I won’t stop you. The terms are the same as just now." Garand said, "Anyone else? Takeoff time is almost here; this is your last chance."

In the end, a total of four people withdrew, and their four slots were replaced by Garandor’s Disciples.

The thirty-man roster did not shrink.

But the slump in morale was visible to the naked eye.

They stood on the icy surface of the Moon, staring at the intermittent flares of fire in the wreckage ahead, all with faces clouded and uncertain like Yin Qing.

Even wrapped in their thick spacesuits, they could still feel the deep, cold chill of outer space slowly seeping into their bones.

It made one unable to resist shivering.

Their breathing came unsteady.

Yet in this silence, tiny, broken sounds suddenly crackled over the channel.

Mixed with static, as if the signal were bad.

Gradually, it became clear.

Then the broken whistling slowly knit together, a cheerful tune echoing in everyone’s ears amid the current noise, like mockery from afar, turning everyone’s face even darker.

"Who the hell is whistling!" Valery roared in fury. "Can’t you just shut your damn mouth!"

At a time like this, to get on the public channel and whistle—either brainless or heartless.

But the whistling on the public channel did not stop at all; instead, it grew ever clearer.

Ever more cheerful.

Filled with peace and joy, as if the whistler felt genuine happiness deep inside.

In the gaps between the whistling, someone even broke into a delighted song.

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way~ Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh~~"

In the dead silence, only the singing echoed.

Everyone looked at each other and glanced around, finally noticing the silhouette slowly enlarging and emerging on the horizon in the distance.

Countless silver-white lunar dust particles were blasted into the air, flying up as if turning into swirling snowflakes, drifting in the low-gravity vacuum.

So beautiful.

Pulled by a huge canine creature, a rope twisted from cables stretched taut, and a crudely welded sleigh rumbled forward at an unbelievable speed.

It was like a train racing across the lunar surface!

Loaded with heavy "presents," the bright red figure sitting at the front of the sled was belting out a joyful song.

Just like that, crossing the silent land that had lain untouched for tens of millions of years, it drifted, it accelerated, it fishtailed, it even spun twice in place, and when it felt happy, it had to back up a bit as well.

"What... is that?"

Wagner even wanted to lift his visor and rub his eyes, asking hoarsely, "Santa Claus?"

Silence; no answer.

Everyone stared, dumbstruck, witnessing a spectacle not even seen in their deepest nightmares.

Right there on the ground of the Moon, a person in a bright red spacesuit sat on a crude three-wheeled sleigh, holding the reins, racing forward pulled by a giant dog, singing at the top of his lungs.

The dog was even wagging its tongue in vacuum, face full of excitement, as if it didn’t feel the slightest discomfort and was having the time of its life. When its drool fell to the ground, it froze into glistening frost.

As countless shimmering lunar dust motes flew up, it was as if Santa Claus from some wasteland fairy tale had descended here.

Breaking through the great wind and snow, he sat on the sleigh, dashing across the fields, laughing and singing.

His laughter stretched on and on.

Until finally, the sleigh came to a beautiful fishtail stop right in front of them.

"My bad, am I late?"

The driver jumped down, patting his head as he took in the still-burning, still-exploding Kepler Base and the two lines of figures.

He froze for a moment.

He looked almost flattered.

"Wow, a welcoming formation? You even set up a bonfire party?"

Huai · Santa Claus · Shi asked curiously, "Is the Stone Pot Society always this enthusiastic?"

Silence.

In the long silence, no one answered.