"Sooo…" James broke the tense silence lingering after the notification. "This is strange. I take it I'm not the only one seeing this, right?"

"You're definitely not," Marie said next to him. She glanced around at the others. "Timer aside, what the hell is the Hibernation Stage? We are at Breakout, right? Or did I dream this entire thing, and we're just waking up."

Isaac frowned as he read the notification one more time. Something about it felt wrong—like it wasn't meant for them at all. And, as his mind flashed back to the beginning of this 'apocalypse,' a certain message from the Interface stood out.

Hibernation Stage Initialization: Failure.

"The first day," he spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. "Hibernation Stage was mentioned then, right at the beginning. Something went wrong, and that's why it changed to Breakout."

Elaine snapped her fingers. "I remember now! 'Cause: Broken Strain Detected.' That's exactly what it said. And then there was the weird pamphlet. It apologized for our 'negative starting experience,' or something along those lines. Can't really remember it word for word."

"Damn," James muttered. "Can't believe I forgot about that thing. It had the name of my Sire, Overlord Conductor. Me and my goldfish memory…"

"There, there." Marie patted his shoulder, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Happens to the best of us."

"All right, focus up, everyone!" Daryl cut in, standing up. "This notification clearly wasn't just for us—or the people of Earth. We are well past the point of familiarizing ourselves with the Interface. Isaac, you have faced an alien in the Pioneer Trials. Did you find out anything else about them?"

Isaac shook his head. "I told you all I know, but… this sure sounds like we and those Salirians aren't the only ones involved in this mess. The rest of the participants were just… asleep until now. Or hibernating, like the Interface called it."

Daryl nodded. "My thoughts exactly. So the real question is—how many other worlds are caught in this? And why?"

"It says, 'games shall begin soon,'" Elaine pointed out. "Doesn't exactly scream 'peaceful interstellar cooperation.' I've got some ideas. None of them good."

"Which means we wait." Daryl sighed. "The transmission promises answers, so there is at least that. Until then, let's get you three settled in for the night. I won't have you sleeping on the ground."

As everyone stood, he glanced toward the women in the group.

"Marie, would you mind taking Miss Blake? You've got a spare mattress in your tent, right?"

The woman nodded before turning to Elaine. "Follow me. I have some looted clothes at my place if you want to change."

"Yes, please," Elaine said with a tired smile.

With that, the two ignored the others and walked off toward the camp, their quiet conversation fading with the distance. That left the three men standing alone in the dark.

Daryl chuckled. "Well, at least they are getting along. Come on, you two. I've got a place for you as well."

Isaac nodded and, along with James, followed the older man. They didn't head straight back into camp. Instead, they circled around it. Why? He had no idea and couldn't really be bothered to ask. The silence was quite nice.

He took this time to review the notification floating before him again. For the most part, they had already discussed everything there was to it, but one little detail remained.

49th Cycle.

It might have seemed insignificant at first glance, but Isaac knew better. Forty-nine meant this had happened before—again and again. Those games, as the notification called them, were a recurring thing. But how often? Every year? Decade? Century? Or maybe even longer.

Just how old were the ones pulling the strings?

I doubt we'll get that answer in the transmission, he thought. Guess that adds another thing to the pile of unanswered questions. Still… things are getting interesting.

Apart from the Minotaur, the Breakout Stage had started to feel stagnant. The Wretched weren't keeping up with awakened humans anymore—it was only a matter of time before they stopped being a threat entirely. But now? With a new stage. New unknowns? The world was opening up again.

Scary yet exciting.

As long as they don't make us fight another guardian, it should be fine. Hopefully…

"Here we are," Daryl announced, pulling Isaac back to reality. "We have been using those for storage, but there is enough space for you to sleep in. I can prepare something better for you tomorrow, but I have a feeling you won't be staying here for long."

"And you would be right, old man," James said as he approached the small tent before them and shined some light inside. "Yeah, it's more than fine. Thanks."

Daryl cleared his throat. "Well, I will leave you to it then. Gotta check if Regina is in the radio's range. If you need anything, come find me."

Isaac offered him a grateful smile. "We will. Thanks again."

"It's nothing, kid. I will see you in the morning. Or after the transmission. We will see."

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With that, the older man walked off.

Isaac and James shared a look, then ducked into the tent. The inside, as they were warned, was a mess but with enough empty space to lie down and sleep. Still, it was a bit cramped, so they spent another ten minutes or so reorganizing this place.

By the time they finished, they had room for three or more single-person mattresses and a few battery-powered lamps strung overhead. There was no food, though, but thankfully, that had been taken care of before leaving Sacramento. Their Storage Brands were really, really useful.

"And now we wait," James muttered as he flopped down onto his mattress.

Isaac nodded. "Now we wait…"

To James and Isaac's surprise, five minutes before the transmission was set to begin, Marie and Elaine barged into their tent. According to them, it was better to stick together until this thing ended. After all, they couldn't know for sure what would happen after. The Pioneer Trials had proved as much.

And so, Isaac didn't complain when their tiny tent became even more cramped. The two women brought drinks, at least. Small blessings.

"Something's happening," Marie announced from her seat beside James.

True to her words, the notification announcing the transmission had finally vanished after countless attempts at dismissing it. In its place appeared something else—a large semi-transparent blue window with a timer ticking down in the center.

30…

29…

"Looks like some high-tech TV," James pointed out. "Think we will get to see this Overlord Broadcast?"

"So it seems," Isaac muttered as the timer dropped to the final fifteen seconds.

"Let's stay quiet for its duration," Elaine suggested. "Listen and watch carefully. We can't miss anything. Afterward, we will compare notes."

They all nodded to that, their gazes returning to their personal screens.

3…

2…

1…

The moment the timer hit zero, the image shifted. The timer disappeared, only to be replaced by a dark red background and the upper body of a person—a person that definitely wasn't a human.

The half-crow half-man spread its feathered arms, its clawed hands showing.

"Welcome, Hosts!" A strong and rumbling male voice filled Isaac's mind. "Greetings to those of you who have just awakened from hibernation. Greetings to the brave survivors of Eldoria, Earth, and Oblivis, who faced the Breakout. And greetings to the wider Universe watching us now."

The creature gave a small bow.

"I'm Fisk, better known by my title: the Overlord Broadcast. I shall be your main host throughout the Virus Wars of the 49th Integration Cycle!"

Virus Wars.

Isaac's eyes widened, and a quick glance at the others told him they weren't doing any better. Still, there was no time to discuss it.

"I understand you have many questions," Fisk said, flashing a smile full of razor-sharp teeth. "And I'm here to answer them and guide you into the first true stage of the Virus Wars. Let's begin with the obvious: the whys and hows. After all, you've awakened in a world you barely recognize, surrounded by barriers, wielding powers you barely comprehend."

The Overlord paused, grinning wider.

"I can't help you with the last one. That's between you and the Interface. But I can tell you what happened to your world."

The being looked off-screen for a moment.

"Hosts from Earth, Oblivis, and Eldoria may already know this, but the lands beyond your Safe Zones are not what you remember anymore."

Yeah, Isaac thought, the memory of the land beyond the safe zone still fresh in his mind. That much is obvious.

"The Overseer, in collaboration with the Overlord Conductor, has reshaped your planets—infusing them with threats pulled straight from the Broken Realm," Fisk elaborated. "But do not fret. The monster zones near Safe Zones pose little danger to a well-prepared Host. That said, the bigger the distance between you and a Safe Zone, the stronger the enemies you face will become. There are other… surprises out there, but I'll let them stay just that. Surprises."

The Overlord winked, and the background shifted again. This time, it displayed a web of interconnected boxes, arranged like a tournament bracket. Isaac frowned. It was not a comforting image.

"Moving on—the whys," the Overlord said, folding his arms. "The Universe is in a constant war with the Broken Strain. And only we, the Hosts, stand between it and total annihilation. That's why, every so often, to weaken its ever-growing power, the Overseer intervenes. It draws on the energy gathering inside the seals of the Broken Realm and uses it to start a new Integration Cycle."

Fisk raised one clawed hand. "But the Overseer can't do it all alone. That's where we come in—the Overlords! We shaped this power into the Virus Wars, the almost-perfect way to forge new Hosts ready to defend the Universe."

"How does it all work? Well, I'm glad you asked!" The Overlord grinned. "First comes the Integration Stage—a limited period where you can adapt to your new reality and prepare for what's to come. And what's that, you ask?"

Here, Fisk gestured to the tournament bracket on his right. "The true beginning of the show! Sixty-four planets facing each other in a round of Fusion Wars! A one-on-one battle between civilizations. The winner advances. The loser?"

His grin sharpened.

"They will be given back to the Overseer. Who, in kind, will use those worlds as temporary means of slowing down the Broken Realm's growth."

Suddenly, Fisk's expression sobered. "Yes, it's a grim fate—perhaps even unjust. But the Universe demands only the strongest. Hosts who never back down. Still, to calm your worries, let me say this. Once the second elimination round is over, and only sixteen worlds remain, the rules will change."

The bracket in the background shifted again, this time showing only the top sixteen.

"Lose then, and your world won't be sacrificed. It will simply be eliminated before joining the Integrated Universe… As for those who will win?" A faint, knowing smile spread over Fisk's mouth. "Your worlds will be rewarded generously by the Overseer. Very generously."

Just like that, the tournament bracket vanished and was replaced by the same red background from before.

"I understand you may be curious about the rounds after the Fusion Wars." Fisk chuckled. "But that's a surprise for another time. You have a long road ahead if you want to reach the Top 16. Focus on that, and don't let your planet become just a footnote in the war against the Broken Strain. Instead, reclaim it and climb the ladder toward greatness!"

He paused and smiled gently. "This brings us to the end of this transmission. Soon, your Safe Zones will open. But don't rush out just yet. Practice your skills. Understand your Origin. Visit a Supporting Nexus if you need guidance. Good luck, Hosts. I shall speak to you again shortly before the first round of Fusion Wars."

Fisk turned around as if he was ready to leave. But before he did, he snapped his fingers and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, one more thing. Remember, starting now, the Universe is watching. Show us your best side, and you just might earn yourself a little extra help."

With that, he turned away for good, and the transmission window began to shrink, fading into nothing.

Someone in the tent coughed.

"Well… That was certainly something," James muttered.

Isaac closed his eyes, letting out a sigh.

Yeah… yeah, it was…

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