Apocalypse System: Zero-Day

Impossible Quest, Possible Win

Silver’s POV

The plasma scythe descended.

I didn't try to dodge. I couldn't. My legs were numb, my lungs filled with the toxic green gas, and my stamina bar was a solid, mocking zero.

But I didn't close my eyes. I stared at the Enforcer's glowing red visor and activated my last remaining asset.

System Vision.

The world dissolved into a wireframe of toxic green fog and cold steel. I saw the Enforcer’s attack trajectory, the energy flowing through its scythe, and the network connecting it to the other three machines.

But I also saw something else. The gas wasn't just a chemical weapon. It was a data stream. It was the extraction protocol Vance had designed to harvest the unclassed survivors, converting their life force into raw processing power for the Global Reset.

The Enforcers weren't just guards. They were the harvesters.

If the System wants to harvest human units, I thought, my vision darkening at the edges, let's give it a different target.

I didn't have enough stamina for an Error Strike. But I didn't need to attack the Enforcer directly. I just needed to touch the network.

I let my body fall forward. The scythe missed my neck by a millimeter, the plasma blade singing the hair on the back of my head. I hit the concrete hard, my hand slapping against the base of the Enforcer's metal boot.

[PASSIVE SKILL: DATA ABSORPTION.]

Instead of absorbing the gas, I forced my corrupted code outward. I bypassed the Enforcer’s armor and plunged my mind straight into the extraction network.

It was like being submerged in ice water. Millions of lines of code rushed past me—names, stats, and the horrifying, silent screams of the survivors being deleted in other parts of the market.

I found the command line for the extraction quota.

Target: Unclassed survivors. Status: Liquidate.

With the last shred of my willpower, I injected a single, malicious line of corrupted code into the mainframe.

Target: Reassigned. New Assets: GPO Enforcers.

The network violently rejected the command, but my Error status acted like a virus. The code accepted the override.

The lead Enforcer froze. Its plasma scythe stopped an inch from my spine.

"Warning," the machine droned, its voice glitching violently. "Extraction protocol... updated. Target reclassified."

The other three Enforcers turned toward their leader. Their visors flashed from red to a blinding, chaotic white.

"Asset reclassification confirmed," the second Enforcer droned. "Initiating harvest."

The lead Enforcer didn't even have time to scream. The three machines turned their weapons on their leader, tearing it apart in a shower of sparks and melting metal.

Then, the three Enforcers turned their weapons on themselves.

A series of violent explosions rocked the cavern. The blast doors groaned and slid open, the extraction protocol crashing entirely.

The green gas stopped pouring from the ceiling.

I lay on the floor, watching the sparks rain down. The heavy footsteps of the machines had stopped. The market was silent, save for the coughing of the survivors.

I had done it. I had beaten an impossible quest without throwing a single punch. I had turned the System's own rules against it.

But I couldn't move.

My health bar blinked a violent, desperate red. The toxic gas had done its work. My insides felt like they were melting. I couldn't take a breath.

So this is it, I thought, my vision tunneling. I beat the boss, and the poison gets me anyway.

"Silver!"

A voice cut through the ringing in my ears. Michelle.

She slid to her knees beside me, her medical bag already open. Her hands were shaking as she ripped my mask off.

"His airway is closing!" she yelled. "Lyon, get over here!"

I felt a heavy hand press against my chest. Lyon.

"Hold him down," Michelle ordered.

I saw a flash of metal in her hand—a heavy syringe filled with a glowing blue liquid.

"This is going to hurt," she said.

She jammed the needle straight into my heart.

My back arched off the concrete. It felt like liquid lightning was being pumped through my veins. The agony was absolute. I tried to scream, but my throat was locked shut.

Then, the blue light flooded my vision.

[EMERGENCY PROTOCOL: ADMINISTRATOR OVERRIDE DETECTED.]

[ANTI-TOXIN ACCEPTED. VITAL SIGNS STABILIZING.]

I gasped, sucking in a massive breath of clean air. My vision snapped back into focus. The red health bar slowly climbed back toward green.

I stared up at Michelle. She was panting, tears streaking through the grime on her face.

"Where did you get that?" I rasped.

"Rowan," she said, nodding toward the thief. "He stole it from a GPO black site. It's a universal antitoxin. I wasn't sure it would work on a glitch."

Rowan walked over, looking pale. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to that. That syringe cost me a fortune."

Lyon grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. "Can you walk?"

"Barely," I admitted, leaning against him.

Margot was already at the blast doors, her rifle raised. "We need to move. The GPO definitely felt that explosion. We have five minutes before this whole sector is swarming with reinforcements."

I looked at the remains of the Enforcers. The metal was still glowing, melting into the floor.

"Let's go," I said.

We ran. We navigated through the dark tunnels, moving away from the ruined market. Cassian was half-carried by Rowan, still groaning in pain.

We finally stopped in an abandoned maintenance shaft, deep beneath the city. It was cold, dark, and safe for the moment.

I collapsed against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. Michelle immediately began checking my vitals again.

"You're a medical marvel," she muttered. "Anyone else would be dead."

"Just lucky," I said.

"Luck doesn't rewrite the laws of biology," she replied, her eyes lingering on mine.

I looked away, trying to pull up my status screen. I needed to know how much experience I had gained from that stunt.

[STATUS: SILVER.]

[LEVEL: 4.]

[...]

But the text was glitching. The letters were warping, dissolving, and reforming.

Suddenly, the entire screen went black.

Not the dark gray of an inactive panel, but absolute, terrifying black.

A new text appeared. It wasn't the standard, polite blue font of the System, and it wasn't the violent red of an Error.

It was a deep, golden, elegant font. The kind of text a god would use.

[ADMIN NOTICE: OBSERVATION ENABLED.]

My blood ran cold.

"What?" I whispered.

"What's wrong?" Michelle asked, noticing the look on my face.

I didn't answer. I just stared at the screen.

[ADMIN NOTICE: THE EXPLOIT HAS BEEN LOGGED. YOU HAVE BEEN SEEN, ANOMALY.]

[PREPARE FOR DIRECT INTERVENTION.]

The golden text faded, and the normal System interface returned.

Vance was watching. And he wasn't just sending Enforcers anymore.