Chapter 7: The Ark
Author: Quil and Ink
last update2026-03-07 02:49:08

Max couldn’t help but be impressed by The Ark’s organization. It was far more structured than he had expected. If the Mech Siege hit, this place would give him a real advantage.

He and Corin continued along the narrow, sloped pathway. Rusted pipes, dangling wires, and old support beams crisscrossed overhead.

The shelter felt like it had been built piece by piece, patched together from whatever scraps were available.

Just as Max opened his mouth to ask about the A.I. Armageddon, Corin spoke first, as if reading his thoughts.

"By the way… I know you’ve got a ton of questions. Who’s here, what’s going on, why the A.I. hasn’t wiped us out yet…" He shrugged. "Don’t expect all the answers. We’ll tell you what you need to know. The rest? Learn it as you go."

Max nodded. Fair enough.

The narrow path finally opened into a larger chamber.

The first thing he noticed were box-like partitions—probably the residents’ rooms. Flickering LED panels, patched-together generators, and crates of supplies filled the central area. A handful of figures moved swiftly, checking equipment, stacking crates, tending small fires.

Corin gestured toward them.

"Those are the four who arrived just before you. Don’t worry, they’ve been briefed. You’ll meet them properly soon. For now… just get your bearings. Welcome to your new world, kid."

Max inhaled deeply. The metallic scent mixed with oil and smoke wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than the garbage dump above. The shelter was cramped but tolerable.

He soon reached the gathering spot where four others were waiting.

"Alright… stay here for now. I’ll have the manager make your IDs. They’ll prove you belong to The Ark. Might come in handy later." Corin said, then left, leaving Max with the four newcomers.

Unlike Max, who had already accepted this new reality, the others looked tense, restless, clearly struggling to adjust.

Max studied them closely.

All were Caucasian, with one female among them. Their faces showed worry, their posture hesitant, as if still caught between disbelief and fear.

They wore the same Starter Gear he had: dark jackets, multi-pocket pants, sturdy boots, belts with simple pouches. Clearly, the System had sent them here too.

Breaking the silence, Max decided to speak first.

"Looks like we were all dragged here… Did you all choose the A.I. Armageddon willingly? I’m Max, by the way."

The four exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, one spoke.

"Y-yes… I’m Ryan," the man said, his voice still shaky. Slowly, he steadied himself. "I had three options… Zombie Outbreak, Ragnarök, and A.I. Armageddon. I picked this one."

Max studied him. Ryan had short blond hair, a square jaw, and a stocky build—someone used to physical work. His eyes lingered on Max, noting the calm composure and sharp features.

Handsome, composed, clearly ready for survival.

Despite differences in background, they seemed to understand each other instantly. The System had eliminated language barriers.

Another man stepped forward.

"I’m Xander," he said. Brown hair thinning, glasses cracked at the edges. "My options were Zombie Outbreak, Alien Invasion, Magic War, and A.I. Armageddon. Machines seemed more predictable than magic or aliens… so here I am."

He hadn’t even considered the Zombie Apocalypse.

Next, the female spoke.

"I’m Aya," she said softly. Auburn hair in a rough ponytail, eyes red from crying. "My choices were Demon Invasion, Ragnarök, Divine Judgment, and A.I. Armageddon. Gods and demons were too unpredictable… machines at least can be fought with logic and weapons."

The conversation gradually eased the tension in the room.

"Oh… so everyone had different options," Max murmured.

Finally, the last man introduced himself.

"Jett," he said with a sigh. Broad-shouldered, bearded, older than the rest. "My options were Alien Invasion, Deep Sea Awakening, Parasitic Evolution, and A.I. Armageddon. I hate the ocean, hate parasites… so I picked this. Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it."

Max nodded. Each of them had faced different choices, yet all ended up in The Ark, under the same banner: survival against machines.

"Looks like we all picked the same battlefield," he said quietly.

"I had twelve choices in total," Max added.

The others’ eyes widened in shock.

Until now, they’d been worried about lost families, abandoned pets, or old lives. But now curiosity stirred: what other Apocalypses had they missed?

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