Apocalypse: Reborn with a Soul Sync Farming Space System-Chapter 118 You Earn Your Place

Severance’s cult base

Inside the basement beneath the hotel, the people had already lost the feeling of a refuge. It had only been days since the meteor shower, yet the civilians who were once ushered in with relief on their faces now stood in lines with stiff shoulders and hollow eyes.

The sound of boots thudding against the floor echoed constantly, mixing with the metallic click of rifles being adjusted and the low hum of the ventilation system that never seemed to rest. The drills were simple, but they never stopped. Hold your stance. Adjust your grip. Aim again. Reload. Move. Repeat. Over and over until their muscles burned and their thoughts dulled.

After that, they trained with close combat weapons.

Food was no longer handed out freely. Points were displayed on large digital boards mounted high along the walls, and every person in the room knew exactly where they stood. If your numbers were low, your portion was smaller. If you fell behind repeatedly, you were reassigned upstairs. No one argued about fairness anymore... Hunger was persuasive enough.

An instructor walked past a row of men holding weighted rifles at shoulder level. Their arms trembled from exhaustion, sweat ran down their temples, and dripped onto the floor.

"Keep it steady," he said in a calm voice that resonated through the air.

One of the men breathing grew uneven. His vision blurred and his fingers lost their grip and the rifle slipped, falling to the ground with a sharp metallic sound that made several people flinch.

Two soldiers stepped forward without urgency. They lifted him by the collar, shoved the rifle back into his hands, and repositioned his arms as if adjusting equipment rather than a person.

"Lift," the instructor said.

The man obeyed, though his jaw trembled, and his eyes were that of fear.

From afar, Camile observed in silence while Mack stood beside her, his expression unreadable.

"They won’t last long at this rate," she said quietly. "They need rest."

"They don’t need to last long," Mack replied. "They need to last long enough." He paused before continuing. "If what you said about the great hunt is true, then we need to be at our best."

Camile glanced at him for a brief moment before returning her gaze to the men training. "We shouldn’t push them too far... or we will suffer a loss."

"I call the shots around here." He said, his voice as cold as ice.

On the fourth day after the red mist, the rhythm changed. The large screen at the far end of the basement opened, and the mechanical sound alone made heads turn. A list of names was read aloud. Those called stepped forward slowly at first, then a little faster when they realized they were drawing attention.

"Scott Jones, Benjamin Smith, Sara Fincher, Micah Bones, Olivia McCall, Fin Adris, Cole Lee... Step forward."

Scott stood among twenty others. Sweat clung to his short brown hair, but his posture remained straight. Benjamin stood beside him, taller, calm, his shoulder-length dark hair tied loosely behind his neck.

Scott felt the premonition in the air before his name was called. His palms were slightly damp around the rifle, but his breathing remained controlled. Benjamin stood beside him, he was taller by a few inches, his gaze focused straight ahead.

They both stepped forward exchanging a knowing look.

"You’re joining the soldiers at the outer wall," the instructor said. "Infected numbers are increasing... You fight today and bring honour to our name."

No one asked for more explanation... that was what they were told, soldiers never asked for explanations, they followed as they were told.

"Head to the suit room! You have five minutes to suit up!" The instructor yelled.

And they all immediately hurried to the suit room to put on protective gear and a mask. The red mist was more dangerous than the infected.

After they finished suiting up, they returned to the middle of the basement.

As the selected group was led toward the elevator, a young man stopped walking. His body shook visibly, and his eyes wandered around in an unfocused manner.

His knees trembled, threatening to give way.

"I can’t," he said, shaking his head. "I’m not a soldier...I can’t fight against the infected." He stammered.

All heads turned simultaneously towards him.

Another refugee stepped forward, his face contorted with anger. "We’re refugees! You all promised us safety, and you never mentioned this charade of fighting and eating by earning points. You all lied to us... the unknown blogger who spoke against you was right, you are only using us as shields that will take the fall for you... this is no longer you helping... it is turning to slavery, where we no longer have the right to speak..."

Before the man could finish his words, a gunshot echoed through the air, piercing right through his forehead. The man fell backward, his body hitting the floor. His eyes were wide open with a look of disbelief. Blood slowly pooled beneath his head.

Gasps and muffled cries tore through the air in grievance and fear. But none dared to speak.

Mack lowered his weapon slowly. "You earn your place," he said, his tone even. "Or you don’t have one."

He turned to Camile. "That unknown blogger should pray I don’t find him." His words carried underlying suspicion as he stared at her.

The man who was crying that he could not fight felt something wetting his pants, dripping to the floor.

He closed his eyes as cold sweat formed on the back of his neck, his legs refused to move, and even the tears refused to come now that he saw someone lying in his pool of blood because he tried to protest.

The elevator carried them to the ground floor of the hotel. When they stepped out of the building, the massive wall with an electric barrier crackled faintly against the red sky. Beyond it, the infected moved in restless clusters, their growls loud and bloodchilling.

The team stared at the gate with dread, their life and death depended on this very moment. They moved closer to the gate.

"You have to go outside to defend the walls, else they might crawl their way up and destroy everything we have been trying to protect." The captain of the team said as he waved his hand for the gate to be opened.

When the gate opened, the infected surged forward immediately.

Gunfire filled the air.