Story Reader / Main Story / 29 Source Beacon / Story
29-1 Tide of Doom
>???
That's the spark of civilization.
???
The glory of the Golden Age will eventually spread across new lands.
???
Only ▆▆▆▆ can take humanity back to Earth.
???
Christina, remember...
???
Only ▆▆▆▆...
...!
...Your dreams reflect your thoughts, huh? Can't believe I'm revisiting those memories after all this time...
The terminal on the table persistently chimes for notifications.
Are they finally on the move?
The slaughter between terminal networks is always hidden beneath a calm facade.
It emerges silently, capturing information containing keywords, flickering like a firefly. Then it vanishes without a trace left behind, allowing the data streams to pass line by line through the firewall.
Inheritance... Are they seriously still holding on to a pointless belief like that?
Only those with brains infested by amoebas would keep on relying on those supposed geniuses from history...
The terminal displays a familiar name with a photo, where the once naive child has seemingly grown into someone who can handle herself well.
Victoria...
It's okay. It will come to an end.
Teddy...!
Hey, don't act like you're sleeping if you're awake! It's time for a meeting!
Another one, huh... Is there some action stirring up in the Hetero Zone?
The military has retrieved... the last mission footage...
The Hetero Zone is still expanding.
Shh... Keep your voice down.
Something... is spreading...
I see... red winds, green rains, purple soil, and heavy skulls...
Vaguely human-like figures dissolve, dripping onto the barren land, emitting a sticky and unidentifiable fragrance.
The history of mankind I have read and their civilization I have grasped. Now...
Embryos push through the muddied earth, blossoming into new flowers.
It's about to begin... This new story.
Gurgle—
A faint, subtle, low sound of bubbles popping mutes the final cry at the bottom of the throat.
Run—
What was that sound?!
Upon hearing his warning, another refugee working in the woods abruptly halts his current task. He observes the grass that Garry is intently staring at, prepared to flee at a moment's notice.
Yet, after an extended wait, their eyes begin to swell and ache; all they perceive is the rustling of the wind through the trees.
Phew...
I misheard it... probably.
Garry knocks his own head and shakes it in annoyance, feeling sorry for startling his friend at work.
It's okay. Being cautious is the right way to do things these days. Remember when that monster snuck up behind our camp? It was all thanks to your warning...
Otherwise, even with Lucille's vehicles, we wouldn't have made it...
Ahem, have you heard of the news?
He leans closer to Garry, speaking in a hushed voice.
You know that settlement near ours... the one back behind the woods that we outplayed in the turf scuffle before...
Some told me this morning that when they went nearby to scavenge, they didn't hear a thing from that settlement.
They didn't go check it out?
No one's got the nerve... These parts are nothing like the Clean Zone Lucille talked about.
But we've already scouted the surroundings...
Nah, you crashed early last night, so you missed out on the update. Folks who bolted from the back a couple of days ago mentioned that... things are changing all the time over there.
Seems like that Red Tide thing is still spreading. It catches you, and poof—you're gone in a blink!
A few settlements have vanished already... I'm starting to worry we might have to move again soon.
He lets out a sigh, pausing his work.
It's already December... Can we really make it through this winter?
Don't think like that.
Garry attempts to console him, but the words get stuck in his throat, uncertain of how to escape his lips.
Since that day—a date he has no way to confirm—everything seems to have subtly changed.
These woods, most familiar to the refugees, seem to come "alive", breathing and thriving.
He can't quite pinpoint those subtle changes, but everything around him seems to be urging him to flee, to get out of this place.
But where can he go?
Since the moment he became separated from his parents and had to fend for himself, there has been no turning back—he has to face this treacherous world on his own.
The Punishing Virus.
The Corrupted.
The Red Tide.
Those eerie-looking monsters referred to as Hetero-Creatures by the Constructs who always come and go hastily.
And... even more unpredictable things.
The refugees on the surface hide in the crevices of the world, barely surviving, while the monsters spawned by the Punishing Virus roam unrestrained.
How much longer... can humans survive on this land?
If not here... where else can they go?
...Don't think like that.
He only manages to squeeze out these pallid words.
...Sigh, you're right. Overthinking will do me no good.
Rubbing his face nonchalantly, Gemira starts chuckling.
Things will get better... Lucille's already confirmed the location of the Clean Zone, hasn't he?
Once we enter that Clean Zone she mentioned, things will definitely get better!
She mentioned there's no sign of that damned virus in the Clean Zone and no chance of running into those monsters either.
Once we're there, we'll set up our own homes and work the land—no more scavenging around for wild veggies to munch on.
And then, hehe, let's get you a girlfriend... Do you like kids?
I... I don't know...
Oh, I just love kids!
If only my wife and I hadn't been split up ages ago. Too bad you can't meet her in person. Gotta admit, she's a stunner...
When I first laid eyes on her, those big bright eyes of hers got me thinking, "If our kids could have eyes like that..."
As Gemira rambles on, Garry finds himself lost in thoughts.
He has never imagined a future like that.
Where he might get a girlfriend, a place to call home, and perhaps even... a child.
Child—
Gurgle—
An uneasy rustle emanates from the bushes.
...What's that noise?!
What?!
They pause their work once more with a glimmer of hope shining in their hearts, listening intently to the sounds around them.
A subtle tremor ripples beneath their feet as if a herd of antelope is being pursued by wild beasts. Accompanied by this, chaotic footsteps draw closer almost instantly...
...Run!
Run... Run!!
Garry's voice almost perfectly merges with that of the refugee fleeing from the bushes.
Wh-what's happening...?!
...The Hetero Zone is still expanding...
...
...The last... data...
The video flickers a few times before the recording abruptly cuts off.
This is the last mission footage uploaded by this Construct squad.
By the time we attempted to track them down, the Red Tide had already swept over the area.
The task for this Construct squad involved eradicating the Hetero-Creatures on the outskirts of the Clean Zone. The mission location is very close to the Clean Zone.
The Hetero Zone is encroaching on the Clean Zone's territory.
In places unknown to us...
The Red Tide is devouring more lives.
It voraciously absorbs anything that can sustain itself—be it animals, plants, humans, or Constructs.
It clusters tightly together, embracing as many lives as they can.
It seems to intent on dragging the entire world into the nightmare it has weaved.
Winds as red as blood, rains as green as algae, and soil tainted with an ominous purple hue... they bear the cries of refugees who couldn't flee the woods.
Crimson liquid meanders like a stream, joyfully coursing through the crevices in the woods.
Vines, reeking of decay, silently creep from the stream beyond, while the once-tranquil forest is now engulfed by screams, only to fall into an eerie silence again.
It's the Red Tide! Gemira! Run!
Desperately, Garry pulls Gemira along, sprinting forward.
Yet, how can human legs outpace a surging tide?
It's like a nonchalant slaughter or a one-sided game—the viscous liquid chuckles as it envelops the ankles of the straggling refugees.
Hetero-Creatures arrive with the tide, cautiously inspecting the fallen humans, seemingly selecting their targets.
...Arrrgh!
Deep finger marks are imprinted in the soil as another refugee disappears into the tide.
Ugh...!
His bare feet touching the ground begin to burn—the Red Tide is already brushing against his ankles.
Gemira... Run!
With a roar, he musters his final reserves of strength to lunge forward a few steps, pushing Gemira ahead.
AHHHHHH!!
Warm tears streak down the rough skin of his cheeks, but Gemira dares not look back. He keeps running forward with all his might until...
A cold liquid creeps over his feet.
Ugh...
He collapses in despair, the stinging pain in his palm telling him that the Red Tide is gradually consuming the land.
Everywhere his gaze lands, only hoarse cries of pain and whispers of despair linger.
Garry...
In the muddy Red Tide, he struggles to crawl forward.
We can't just end like this... Ah...
Gemira! Garry!
As a cold blue light slices through the crimson tide, the sound of car engines reaches his ears almost simultaneously with the noise of a transport craft touchdown, coming from various directions.
Commandant! Someone's there!
