Gods Game: Apocalypse Rewritten

As he ran, Zane asked the system to mark the fastest and most direct route to the nearest Safe Zone. A guiding arrow appeared in his vision, shifting slightly with every step. He quickly checked the world map—confirmed. It was the fastest route.

Satisfied, he glanced at his inventory:

• Hut (5×5)

• 2 water bottles

• 3 sandwiches

• 3 pairs of clothes

• Dual daggers

The Hut caught his attention. "Why do I have a building in my inventory?"

[Buildings inside Safe Zones can be stored or transferred to another Safe Zone if the owner moves.]

Zane frowned. "Wait. You're saying Safe Zones themselves can move?"

[Incorrect. Safe Zones are fixed locations. Only personal property inside them can be moved.]

He exhaled sharply. "Makes more sense. So, can someone make their own Safe Zone?"

[Yes. A Safe Zone can be established if at least 200 people agree to form one and a leader purchases it for a high amount of CP.]

He narrowed his eyes. "Define 'high amount.'"

[Varies based on size and defense level. The smallest Safe Zone—200 people—costs 500,000 CP. Larger ones require exponentially more.]

Zane scoffed. "That's a ridiculous price."

[Safe Zones are humanity's only true defense. Their cost reflects their value. And they are upgradable.]

"Fair." He adjusted his pace slightly. "And you said their strength depends on population?"

[Correct. Safe Zones with fewer than 500 people can barely withstand Elemental Class monster attacks. Larger Safe Zones can hold off Abyssal Class. The strongest ones—major cities—can endure even Colossal Class assaults. However, only the most fortified Safe Zones have ever survived encounters with an Archfiend.]

Zane absorbed the information, filing it away. So, weaker Safe Zones are at constant risk. Only the biggest ones offer real security. That meant one thing—if he wanted to control his future in this world, he needed to either reach a powerful Safe Zone or build one himself.

But first, survival.

His stamina was already dipping from the relentless running. He wasn't exhausted yet, but pushing himself to collapse would be idiotic. He slowed his pace, drinking half a bottle of water and finishing a sandwich. The food was fresh—better than expected—but he barely tasted it. His focus remained on the road ahead.

After a few minutes, he picked up speed again.

Two hours left until the Safe Zone.

One hour until the world transformed into a nightmare.

His jaw clenched. I gave the other me an empire where he doesn't even need to lift a damn finger. And in return, he hands me immediate death? Irritating.

His mind was already working on contingencies. He couldn't reach the Safe Zone before the monster wave hit. That meant he had to either fight, hide, or find an alternative strategy.

As Zane kept moving, the system beeped. His map automatically expanded, and a swarm of small red dots appeared behind him, converging on his position.

[Monster spawning has begun.]

His eyes flicked toward the growing wave of insects—massive ants, venomous bees, grotesque spiders—each the size of a tire or small child, scuttling and buzzing toward him.

He picked up his speed.

[Next class will spawn in 10 minutes.]

Tch. No time to slow down.

He sprinted through the crumbling ruins of a collapsed district, his mind racing through options. Fighting was pointless—there were too many. Hiding was unreliable. That left only one choice: controlled destruction.

His eyes locked onto a wrecked building ahead, its skeletal structure barely standing. A single well-placed strike would bring it down. He dashed through the unstable remains, weaving between rusted beams and shattered concrete. The swarm followed mindlessly.

Zane smirked. "Idiots."

As he reached the exit, his daggers flashed. A precise strike to the weak point. The structure groaned, then collapsed in a deafening cascade of debris. Dust exploded into the air, and the system chimed.

[+XP Gained]

He didn't stop to check the numbers. More important was the gap he'd created. The swarm was buried—for now.

But he wasn't safe yet.

Pushing forward, he reached a long, weathered bridge stretching over a dark expanse of water. London-style architecture. Old, unstable. It creaked beneath his weight as he ran.

Then—

A feeling.

That sharp, instinctive warning honed through years of high-stakes decision-making.

Without breaking stride, Zane's eyes flicked downward.

And there it was.

Lounging casually on the water's surface, as if this apocalypse was nothing more than a vacation, was an Archfiend.

Its body was a deep, otherworldly blue, intricate tattoos pulsing faintly across its muscular frame. Two curved horns jutted from its head, a perfect match to the system's ominous description. Despite its human-like size, an overwhelming pressure radiated from it—something far beyond mere physical strength.

Reclined on a spectral chair. Legs crossed. A drink in one hand. Staring up at the sky like it had all the time in the world.

Zane exhaled slowly. "Of course."

He kept running. Not because he was afraid—no, that wasn't it. He just had no interest in fighting a damn boss monster when he didn't even have a single decent weapon.

But as he passed over the bridge, the Archfiend turned its head ever so slightly.

Their eyes met.

A slow grin spread across the creature's face.

As Zane kept running, the Archfiend observed him with mild curiosity. A human, out in the open at this hour? How amusing.

It chuckled, its deep voice carrying an eerie resonance. "Hundreds of years, and I've never seen a human this reckless."

Without warning, it leaped into the air, soaring effortlessly. It wasn't attacking—yet. No, this was more interesting. It wanted to see just how long the human could last before the swarm tore him apart.

Meanwhile, Zane's situation worsened. The monster wave had escalated—Beast Class creatures had begun spawning. His system chimed urgently, and a new alert flashed before his eyes.

A massive red dot.

Zane's eyes flicked back—nothing of that size behind him.

Then he looked up.

And there it was.

The Archfiend, its muscular frame barely clad in anything beyond tattered pants, hovered above him like a god watching an insect struggle.

Its piercing gaze met his, and a slow grin spread across its face.

Zane cursed under his breath.

This just got a hell of a lot worse.

Zane moved with practiced efficiency, using wrecked cars and crumbling buildings to maneuver through the pursuing swarm. Each obstacle he vaulted over or weaved around slowed the creatures behind him, forcing them into chaotic collisions. The Archfiend, still hovering above, observed with growing interest.

"A human this skilled? Now, this is rare," it mused.

Then, as if deciding to make itself comfortable, the Archfiend descended onto the rooftop of a ruined building Zane had passed moments ago. Its legs swung lazily over the edge as it leaned forward, eyes locked onto the unfolding spectacle.

It was already past 11:00 PM.

Zane knew this. He'd known from the start he wouldn't make it before curfew, but it was always worth checking for loopholes. Now, standing just outside the Safe Zone, he reached out toward the shimmering blue barrier. His fingers brushed against it—solid, unyielding.

Locked.

Tch. No surprise there.

Behind him, the monsters surged forward. Beast Class creatures leaped at him, their hungry eyes locked onto fresh prey.

One pounced.

Zane shifted his weight at the last second, grabbing the creature mid-air and using its own momentum against it. A swift strike—its body collapsed, lifeless.

Not as tough as I thought.

But then, his gaze flicked beyond the swarm.

Elemental Class. Abyssal Class.

Colossal Class.

All spawning. All converging.

And just above, the Archfiend chuckled, resting its chin on one hand as if watching the climax of an interesting play.

Zane exhaled sharply.

Now, the real game begins.