Re: Apocalypse Game



[You have level up]

In the aftermath of the adrenaline-pumping ambush amidst the trees, Alan took a moment to access his stats. To his pleasant surprise, his exploits had earned him a significant jump of three levels.

[Alan D Angello, Male, 27 years]

[Level 23: 32150/35000]

[Health points: 260/260]

[Spirit points: 70]

[Stamina: 100%]

[Strength: E]

[Agility: D+]

[Endurance: D]

[Perception: E]

[Intelligence: C]

[Spirit: E]

[Survival Points: 14850]

[You have one attribute point to distribute]

[You have 1x E rank reward. 4 x F rank reward]

Glancing around, he could see the satisfied expressions of his team members. Each of them had managed to eliminate at least two or three Nazi soldiers during the skirmish. Their individual combat success had granted most of them enough experience for a level-up, a significant achievement for the group.

The battle, while grueling, had bestowed upon them more than just experience points. For many in Alan's team, this had been their first encounter with human combatants. The fact that they had not just survived but triumphed imparted a newfound confidence. They had faced one of their most profound fears and emerged victoriously. Alan knew this newfound self-belief would be a pivotal factor in the challenging battles that lay ahead.

As the sounds of battle died down and the dust settled, it was time to assess their gains. The battlefield was a trove of loot. Scattered around were firearms and cartridges dropped by the defeated foes. Quick calculations revealed a 10% firearm drop rate, and a substantial 30% ammunition drop, suggesting that every tenth enemy soldier left behind a firearm, while every third one left behind bullets. This was a treasure trove, enough to arm the militia to the teeth.

Amid the common loot, there was a piece that stood out. The Nazi captain, their highest-ranking officer in the skirmish, had dropped an uncommon item:

[Officer uniform]

[Type: Clothes]

[Rarity: Uncommon]

[Attributes: Defense +7]

[Effects: Reduce fear and anxiety of people around you] 

[Equipment Rating: 14]

[Able To Bring Outside The Game: No]

[Remarks: It's fashionable too!]

The system randomly assigned this uncommon loot to a player, and the lucky recipient was Vicky. The gleam in her eyes was unmistakable. She wasn't overjoyed because of the defensive stats or the morale-boosting effect of the uniform but rather its style. The uniform, sleek and well-tailored, seemed to be a perfect fit for her newly earned role as a squad leader.

Without hesitation, Vicky decided to don her new prize immediately. She began to change right behind a tree near Alan, with a hint of mischief in her eyes as she caught Alan's gaze. 

With the shirt now on, she twirled, "What do you think, Alan? Does this suit me?"

Alan, ever the composed leader, replied, "Yes, it does."

Vicky's face softened, "Thank you, Alan. Thank you for believing in me." 

The resonating cheers and triumphant shouts filled the air, echoing through the trees. The 17th Militia had emerged victorious in their first significant combat engagement, a feat that no one, perhaps not even they themselves, had anticipated.

The exhilaration of victory coursed through every player, rendering their wounds and exhaustion secondary. Their hearts raced, not from fear or exertion, but from the intoxicating thrill of victory.

However, Alan quickly realized that this was both a boon and a potential pitfall. The adrenaline and euphoria could lead to rash decisions, endangering the team in their overzealous state. Yet, at the same time, this momentum, if channeled correctly, could be the tide that would lead them to even greater victories.

"Listen up!" Alan's voice cut through the jubilation. His tone was calm, but the underlying urgency was unmistakable. "This time, it will be an open battle. I need every single one of you to be on high alert. The risk is greater, but so is the reward."

While their primary objectives remained unchanged – accumulating survival points and experience – Alan knew that their next move would require careful planning and impeccable execution.

Emerging from the tree line, Alan instructed the group to maintain a cautious pace. He then pulled out the [Military Radio] Intentionally broadcasting a message on all channels, he announced, "Delta command, this is the 17th Militia. We've neutralized the enemy's flank units, resulting in 200 enemy casualties. We request permission to counter-attack the enemy's main forces."

The audacity of the message was unmistakable. Such a claim, coming from a relatively small unit like the 17th Militia, was bound to raise eyebrows. And it did.

Leaders of the 13th and 15th Militias, upon hearing the announcement, were taken aback. A flurry of emotions swept through their ranks – disbelief, envy, and a burning desire to emulate such success. Alan had anticipated this reaction. He knew that the larger militias, eager to prove their worth, would leap into action without waiting for Lieutenant Marsh's orders. And they did just that.

Almost immediately, close to 200 players from the 13th and 15th Militias mobilized. These units, bolstered by the leadership of an ex-police captain, took the initiative and launched a preemptive strike on the primary Nazi forces. This move, while brave, was precisely the distraction and opportunity Alan had hoped for, setting the stage for the 17th Militia's next move in this grand game of strategy.

####

The sun glinted off the firearms and helmets, betraying the position of nearly 500 Nazi soldiers stationed ahead. Their numbers may have dwindled due to failed assaults and attrition, but the sight of such a formidable force was enough to send chills down anyone's spine. Fatigue clung to them, yet they retained a sense of purpose, ready to defend to the last man.

Suddenly, a shout broke the tense silence: "To our North! Ready, Fire!!"

A hailstorm of bullets erupted. The sharp, deafening cacophony of gunshots filled the air, signaling the onset of a fierce assault. Militias 13 and 15, despite their bravery, found themselves outgunned and outnumbered. Casualties mounted as they bore the brunt of the enemy's wrath, inadvertently serving as the sacrificial shield Alan had counted on.

As the Nazi forces concentrated their firepower on the two militias, Alan seized this momentary diversion. Under his leadership, the 17th Militia emerged from behind the lines, their attack synchronized and lethal. The sheer audacity of this maneuver caught the enemy off guard.

Seeing the tide turn, Lieutenant Marsh took a decisive step. Ordering the main force to descend from the cliff's strategic vantage point, they charged into the fray, adding to the chaos but also reinforcing the assault.

Amidst the bedlam, Alan's voice, seasoned by countless battles in the virtual realm of the Apocalypse game, resounded with authority. "Stay together! Rally on me!" His words acted as a beacon, guiding his unit amidst the chaos. Drawing on his extensive knowledge, Alan tactically exploited the enemy's vulnerabilities, sidestepping their strengths. Under his leadership, the 40-strong 17th Militia, inexperienced yet determined, punched well above their weight.

Time seemed to stretch, every second heavy with anticipation. But as the dust settled and the smoke cleared, the Nazi forces, overwhelmed and outnumbered, sounded the retreat. Their once-imposing number now reduced to a mere 200, they fled back to the town, their steps hastened by the fear of pursuit.

The sight of the retreating forces ignited a wave of exhilaration among the players. Their voices, a blend of relief and elation, echoed in unison: "We won! We did it!" 

However, Lieutenant Marsh was less enthusiastic. He convened a brief meeting with the leaders and expressed his concerns.

Gathering them for a briefing, Marsh began with a nod of acknowledgment, particularly towards Alan. "Your courage today was commendable," Marsh declared, his tone genuine. The Lieutenant's gaze, which previously held Alan in suspicion, now displayed a newfound respect. "Alan," he continued, "Your tactics and the ability of your unit to eliminate 200 of the enemy on your own merits high praise."

But Marsh's demeanor then shifted to one of concern. "Still," he said with a heavy sigh, "our main objective was to keep the enemy engaged, to wear them down. Their retreat to the town complicates matters. To fulfill our mission, we now need to march straight into their territory."

The leaders exchanged uneasy glances, fully grasping the implications of Marsh's statement. But for Alan, this development was what he hoped for from the start. With Delta company preparing to penetrate the town's defenses, the path was now clear for him to embark on the much-awaited rescue mission.