NIKKE: The Apocalypse Arrives, But the System is 100 Years Late

If humanity could reclaim the surface, who would willingly live like rats in the sunless depths of the Ark? If they couldn't, then it didn't matter.

If humanity failed and the Raptures overran everything, then the Ark would inevitably fall.

No matter how things turned out, the Ark was destined to be abandoned.

It was a closed-loop conclusion.

That was why Mo Chen didn't care much about the Ark's fate.

"Then let's get to the real issue," Andersen said, his hardened face growing even more solemn, as though it had been sculpted from bronze after enduring years of trials. His deep-set eyes gleamed with a calm and unwavering resolve. "I want you to reclaim the surface permanently."

"Even if it's just a single square meter—you must take it back."

Mo Chen remained silent, simply listening.

Logically, this was something everyone already knew. It didn't need to be stated. So for Andersen to say it anyway meant there was more to it.

Sure enough, Andersen continued.

"Frontline reports indicate that our forces have spotted the Pilgrims. Not only that, but they have also discovered their settlement—Eden."

"They possess a technology known as optical camouflage, which can block the Raptures' perception. If we acquire it, we can reclaim the surface."

Pilgrims?

Mo Chen's expression shifted slightly.

So, the Ark had already pinpointed Eden's location.

It wasn't surprising. Eden had been around for quite some time now. Its eventual discovery was inevitable.

Andersen let out a weary sigh, the firm lines of his face softening under the weight of exhaustion. He pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly distressed by the worsening situation in the Ark.

"This time, thanks to your strength, we managed to repel and eliminate the Rapture invasion," he said. "That alone is a great morale boost. It has reshaped the entire Ark's perception of both the Nikkes and the Raptures."

"But the Ark also lost a great deal—resources, manpower, and many invaluable assets that took years to accumulate. None of this was mentioned in the official reports."

"Even the failure of the surface reclamation force has been completely concealed."

"Right now, everyone is still celebrating. Their focus has been successfully diverted."

"But if news of the ground forces' complete annihilation were to spread now, public sentiment could swing violently from one extreme to the other. The entire Ark could spiral into chaos."

"And in the shadows, the terrorists lurking beneath the surface would no doubt seize the opportunity to sow even greater destruction."

Mo Chen wasn't surprised in the slightest.

This kind of thing had happened far too many times throughout history.

The concept of a swift victory and the inevitability of defeat were just two sides of the same coin—like an entangled quantum state. At their core, both were simply different ways of saying: doom was inevitable.

"The Ark is currently overflowing with calls for a counteroffensive against the Raptures," Andersen continued with another sigh, his disappointment barely concealed. 

His brows furrowed tightly, his expression heavy and drained of energy, as if weighed down by the burden of his knowledge. His eyes, usually sharp, now carried the deep weariness of someone who had seen far too much.

"But what the people don't know is that the counteroffensive has already failed."

"That's why, right now, you are the only hope we have left."

"If even the one they call humanity's savior fails to achieve victory… then all of humanity will be consumed by despair, and widespread riots will be inevitable."

Mo Chen gave a slight nod—a simple gesture, yet one that carried an inexplicable sense of reassurance.

"I understand."

Andersen let out a deep breath, as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted from his shoulders. With a hint of apology, he spoke.

"I'm sorry for suddenly placing such a heavy responsibility on you. Well then, I'll let you get back to work. In five minutes, I have another meeting to—"

Before he could finish, Mo Chen cut him off and tossed him a spray-type medicine.

"Take this."

Andersen caught the vial and froze for a moment.

As someone well-informed, he immediately recognized it. This was the latest miracle drug on the Ark's market, supposedly capable of curing any ailment or injury. Its price was astronomical—so high that even the Ark's top executives and wealthy elites could only afford a few bottles.

He quickly realized that Mo Chen had seen through his secret.

When he looked up again, he was already gone, leaving behind a single phrase that still lingered in the air.

"Don't spend all your time in meetings. Take care of yourself."

For this operation, aside from Mo Chen's counteroffensive force, several other Nikke units were also participating.

However, to avoid exposing the Ark's elevator due to a large-scale deployment, each unit was assigned different elevator zones for departure. This precaution ensured they wouldn't alert the Rapture forces.

The following day, after a final round of preparations and procurement of essential supplies, Mo Chen's squad set off. Two hours later, they arrived at the Ark's intermediary zone—a buffer layer between the underground stronghold and the surface.

The sky above was a murky gray, stained by smoke and dust. Sunlight struggled to break through the thick clouds, casting fragmented, eerie beams of light over the ruins, unable to dispel the lingering darkness. The air reeked of burnt debris, mingled with the metallic tang of blood, suffocating those who breathed it in.

The streets were lined with crumbling structures, the remnants of towering skyscrapers now reduced to skeletal frames, on the verge of collapse. Shattered glass and broken masonry littered the ground—silent remnants of the brutal battle that once unfolded here.

Abandoned vehicles sat lifeless amid the wreckage, their tires deflated, their bodies corroded by rust. The few trees that remained bore deep scars, their charred branches stripped bare, standing as grim sentinels against the devastation.

Faced with such a harrowing sight, the squad's mood grew heavy. Even Anis and Neon, who were usually the most talkative, fell silent.

Just over a week ago, the surface counteroffensive forces had fought the Raptures here. The scars of that battle were still visible.

Though the counteroffensive had ultimately failed, it had succeeded in clearing out Rapture forces within a hundred-kilometer radius of the Ark, granting humanity a brief but precious respite.

Upon arrival, communications were reestablished, and contact was made with the forward base.

Due to the underground expansion of Material H's tentacle network, the forward base—positioned at the intermediate layer—had become the first target of the Raptures' assault.

Without hesitation, Mo Chen's squad rushed toward the frontlines.

Meanwhile, at the outer perimeter of the forward base…

"Alert! Alert!"

"A massive Rapture force has been detected southeast of the base!"

"Alpha Squad has engaged the enemy!"

"Shit! There's a Lord-class Rapture! Be careful—it emits a neurotoxic virus!"

"Southwest sector! A large number of Servant-class self-destructing Rapture mosquitoes detected! Stop them! Their target is the artillery!"

"Cerberus Squad has suffered heavy casualties! Immediate reinforcements needed!"

Urgent voices filled the communication channel, chaotic and overlapping, but they were quickly drowned out by the deafening roar of explosions.

On the battlefield, artillery fire thundered as thick smoke engulfed the air. The acrid stench of gunpowder mixed with dust and blood, creating a suffocating atmosphere. Explosions erupted one after another, shaking the ground as if the earth itself was being torn apart.

Bullets and shells crisscrossed the sky, forming an intricate web of firepower that engulfed the battlefield in flames and destruction. The shockwaves from the blasts rattled the ground, sending plumes of dust and debris into the air, obscuring visibility.

Nikkes fought bravely against the Raptures, their bodies illuminated by the constant flashes of gunfire. Occasionally, one of them would fall, their frames torn apart by shrapnel and bullets, staining the battlefield red. But they never hesitated—more would step forward, continuing the relentless battle.

Behind cover, a Nikke named Haixin clutched a rocket launcher, aiming at the distant Rapture forces. But just as she prepared to fire, a thunderous crash shook the ground. She instinctively turned her head toward the source of the sound—and her face paled in horror.

A Rapture the size of a building loomed into view. Its massive, hammer-like arms swung wide before smashing into a reinforced concrete wall with a resounding boom. The once-sturdy defensive barrier crumbled instantly, debris flying in all directions. 

Above the structure, the base of a massive artillery cannon tilted off-balance, shifting dangerously from its original position.

"Damn it!"

"The eastern defense line has been breached! Repeat—breached! It's a Lord-class Rapture! Codename: Warhammer!"

Warhammer—a heavily armored Rapture specialized in siege warfare. Its towering frame was built for destruction, with reinforced arms capable of transforming into colossal hammers, designed to tear through fortifications with devastating force.

As the defensive wall collapsed, the eastern perimeter was left exposed. A swarm of Raptures poured through the breach like a tidal wave of blackened steel, surging toward the outpost.

The situation was spiraling out of control.

Warhammer remained unscathed, its advance unhindered by the artillery fire. The defensive cannons struggled to break through the dense horde of Raptures shielding it. With every swing of its massive arms, more of the outpost's fortifications were reduced to rubble. If the breach widened any further, the entire defensive line would crumble.

A Nikke named Yinghuo clenched her SMG tightly, gritting her teeth. Then, steeling herself, she took a deep breath and rushed forward.

"I'll draw its fire! Use the particle cannon to take Warhammer down!"

"Wait—!"

Haixin's heart clenched at the sight of her comrade charging into danger. She immediately shouted, trying to stop her.

That was a suicide mission.

She moved to grab Yinghuo, but at that moment, an enemy shell struck her cover.

The explosion blasted her into the air, sending her crashing onto the debris-covered ground. A searing pain shot through her body—her left arm was completely severed, and one of her legs was severely damaged. But as a Nikke, she could still fight.

However, the delay was costly. The cover between them had been obliterated, leaving a jagged pile of debris separating her from Yinghuo.

Before making her final charge, Yinghuo turned back with a bright, toothy grin, flashing a playful V-sign with her fingers.

"Don't forget to get me a signed photo from the Commander!"

With that, she dashed toward the Rapture army.

Ratatatatatat!

Her SMG sprayed bullets in a sweeping arc, cutting down a handful of Raptures before they could react. But the moment she revealed herself, the enemy's attention snapped onto her.

Gun barrels turned in unison, and a hail of plasma rounds streaked toward her.

Yinghuo sprinted through the ruins, dodging and firing as she moved. But the surrounding buildings had been reduced to skeletal remains—there was barely any cover left.

Before long, multiple shots found their mark.

One round tore straight through her right side, sending her staggering backward.

The impact damaged her core power unit—its containment breached, systems malfunctioning, energy output plummeting.

This is bad.

Yinghuo realized her situation was critical.

She needed to escape: if she got surrounded, it would be over.

BOOM!

Suddenly, the crumbling walls behind her gave way.

As she turned, her pupils contracted sharply.

A massive Master-class Rapture emerged from the wreckage, its colossal frame pushing through the debris. A high-powered particle cannon locked onto her, the muzzle glowing with a deadly charge.

At that moment, time seemed to slow.

She had heard stories before—about how, in the face of death, a person's perception of time would stretch, allowing them to see every detail with eerie clarity. Even the fluttering of a single fallen leaf would become painfully distinct.

She had always thought it was just a myth.

Turns out, it was real.

Just as the charged blast was about to fire, a deep, magnetic voice rang out—calm yet carrying an undeniable weight.

"Zanka no Tachi, Higashi: Kyokujitsujin"