Falling into the Simulation pt 7 Final - Chapter 61

The morning of the fifth day was, without a doubt, the calmest so far. With the help of the survivors, everything had become less chaotic. The day before, with the support of the engineers, they had managed to reinforce the castle's defenses, creating sturdier barriers focused on the vulnerabilities already identified. This ensured more reaction time and more effective protection.

All four of them were equipped with Ultra armor. The most impressive feature was the machine's ability to understand each user's individual needs: while Damian received a heavy, reinforced armor suited to his direct combat style, Cassandra got a lighter version with enhanced aim and a focus on mobility. They were ready for the imminent battle.

"Are all civilians in position?" Tyrin asked, watching the preparations.

It had been his idea to install the heavy weapons in the towers, mounted to allow easier handling by women and physically weaker individuals. Thanks to that, out of the fifteen survivors, twelve were ready on the wall, significantly increasing their chances of withstanding the attack.

"Today, we're definitely going to face some kind of elite," he murmured.

The night before, they had almost lost a few survivors. A group had arrived in the middle of the night, banging desperately on the gates. However, Tyrin quickly realized, thanks to his ability, that they were mimics. Fortunately, his companions trusted his judgment and opened fire immediately, without hesitation — although surprised by his certainty, they accepted his half-baked explanation without further questioning. Relief came when, after eliminating the enemies, they moved up three ranks, entering the top 10. A small but significant victory.

"What do you think will attack us today?" Eleonora approached, watching Tyrin gear up to head to the north wall.

"I'm not sure... but we're advancing into a higher level of enemies. If I had to guess, I'd say we'll see our first Humanoid Tyrant today."

Tyrin knew, from the books he had studied, that the Tyrants themselves weren't a direct threat to humans — the mimics and beelzebubs served as spies and trackers. The real danger came from the bipedal frontline units: stronger, smarter, faster, and in many cases, even magic users. They were superior to humans in virtually every way. The only advantage was that, for some reason, they avoided unwinnable fights and never fought alongside their subordinates. Their pride, incredibly, even surpassed that of humans — and this, interestingly, worked against them.

"We'll probably face the usual enemies at first, but in the end... the humanoids will come. Be prepared."

The traps were set, weapons loaded, and posts manned. The four of them were at the center of the castle, coordinating movements and making final adjustments.

"I activated a communication feature between the armors," Eleonora informed. "If you encounter a biped, report it immediately. We'll support each other."

"Unfortunately, there are many types of bipeds, with different power levels," Tyrin added. "As soon as you spot one, describe it to me. Identifying them could be the key to finding their weaknesses. It's our only chance to win."

"But… can we really defeat them?" Cassandra murmured, hesitant. "I mean, for real?"

"Don't worry about that. If someone's already made it past this stage, then there is a way. It's going to work," Tyrin replied firmly.

They were finalizing the strategies when, suddenly, Damian dematerialized in front of everyone.

"What the fuck?!" Cassandra exclaimed, seconds before disappearing too.

"I think we're being forcefully logged out… something's happe—" Eleonora couldn't finish. Tyrin was left alone for a few seconds before also disappearing, dematerializing and leaving behind the dry heat of the morning in the hostile desert.

When he opened his eyes, he was back in the royal chamber. Everything around was chaotic — voices shouting, people running. He looked to the side and saw his friends, equally disoriented.

"I had to pull you out. Follow me, I believe something big is happening again," said Custer, already heading toward the commotion in the hallway.

Tyrin was the first to get up, without question.

"What the hell is going on, Ty?" Damian asked, still stunned.

"Something big… or unique. Maybe both."

The four of them stood up and walked toward the door, but were taken by surprise as a sepulchral silence fell the moment they opened it to the hallway. The screams that had echoed just moments before had ceased completely. Now, only a single voice could be heard, coming from somewhere farther down.

"I think they're in the dining hall," Cassandra guessed, not thinking too hard about it.

They followed the hallway toward the sound. As they got closer, the male voice became clearer — he was shouting, agitated, words that soon began to make sense.

"They finally decided to talk to us... and they're asking for help! Can you believe that?!"

As they entered the hall, they saw nearly the entire academy gathered, eyes glued to a holographic projection dominating the space. Tyrin recognized it instantly: it was the same kind of transmission he'd seen Cassandra use before. The images showed two people arguing in front of a video — in the center of the projection was the planet Gaia, and beside it, a colossal ship. Its size defied imagination, taking up nearly a third of the planet's volume. It was, without a doubt, the largest ship ever recorded in space.

"Tyrin... whose ship is that?" Cassandra asked, a mix of curiosity and fear in her voice, looking directly at him.

All of their close friends turned to him as well. Even Eleonora, always proud and skeptical, waited for an answer from the boy who always seemed to know more than the rest. But what she saw on his face wasn't certainty — it was fear.

"Untouchables," Tyrin replied, almost in a whisper.

"Love, why do you have to go to this war? It doesn't make sense..."

"The Empire summoned me, and I'm of age. I have to answer. It's the rule."

"But... what about our children?"

"You think I don't think about them? I can't disobey, but I promise I'll come back."

"Kids, come here. Give Daddy a hug."

In a small room, four people embraced tightly.

"Tyrin, take care of Mommy and your sister, okay?"

"I promise, Dad. I'll wait for you."

The man smiled — a restrained, sad smile. He stood up, turned his back, and left, slamming the door shut — without looking back.

That same year, his entire unit was wiped out. Not a single one survived. The massacre was attributed to a force until then unknown: the Untouchables.

"How can you be sure it's them? I mean... they've never attacked us. As far as I know, we only had one encounter with them and that was..." Eleonora narrowed her eyes, trying to pull the faded details from her memory.

"Nine years ago," Tyrin replied firmly, as if that number were engraved on his chest.

Custer, who had been silently watching until then, stepped forward slowly. His eyes carried an unusual weight, as if he knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Do you know why they're called the Untouchables, Eleonora?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"From what I've heard... because we've never been able to defeat them in battle," she replied, still cautious but confident in her answer.

"Then why didn't we attack them again? Or a third time?" Custer pressed, throwing the question like a challenge.

Eleonora frowned. The logic didn't add up. A single encounter wasn't enough to earn a name like "untouchable." The title carried too much weight for such little resistance. It had to mean more — much more.

That's when Tyrin answered. His voice came out low, almost a whisper, but it struck like a blow:

"Because every soldier we sent died. And not a single enemy was even scratched."

The silence that followed was as dense as the vacuum of space. No one dared break it.

For months after that battle, scholars, tacticians, and top-level generals pored over the reports. They searched for explanations, mistakes, any blind spot that could justify the disaster. But in the end, the answer was brutally simple: we never had a chance.

The Untouchables were far beyond anything anyone had expected. Their technology operated on an entirely different level — ships that moved without leaving a thermal trace, weapons that ignored shields and armor, artificial intelligence capable of predicting human patterns before they were even decided. It was as if they were fighting an enemy who had already won before the first shot was ever fired.

"It felt like we were trying to defeat gods with stones," Custer murmured, more to himself than to the others.

But what haunted them most wasn't the massacre. It was what happened afterward.

Nothing.

For nine long years, the Untouchables gave no response. No threats, no demands for reparations. No retaliatory fleets, no formal communications. Just... silence. As if the human attack had been irrelevant. As if it wasn't even worth acknowledging that it had happened at all.

That behavior created a disturbing paradox. People started calling them "pacifists," not because they were harmless — but precisely because they weren't. They could destroy everything, yet chose not to. Their coldness, their indifference, was the true horror. They didn't need to fight. Even the dreaded Tyrants, who challenged any galactic empire, avoided Untouchable territory without hesitation. Fear had turned them into living legends.

And now... now one of their ships was here. In plain sight. Too close. Too big. Too silent.

"But they're hundreds of light-years away from their own territory… Why? And why now?" Damian broke the silence, trying to voice the unease everyone felt.

"We're still trying to find out," Custer replied, his gaze locked on the ship's projection. "But as a precaution, High Command has already placed the defense fleet on standby."

"Honestly, I don't think we'll make any difference if they decide to attack…" Tyrin said bitterly. "I just hope this can be resolved through diplomacy. Or that we're not even worth an explanation."

"So do I…" Custer murmured — and for the first time, he truly seemed uncertain.

On planet Gaia, chaos was beginning to take shape. People were confused, stunned. They didn't know what that presence meant. And, more terrifying than anything, no one had managed to establish contact with the ship. It was as if it were there merely... watching.

Fear spread like wildfire among the civilians. Theories emerged, sensationalist headlines fueled the panic. But inside the great command dome, where all the leaders were gathered, the silence was nearly absolute — until a deep, metallic sound, like the groan of a stellar structure, echoed throughout the chamber.

And then, a voice.

Deep. Clear. Impossible to tell if it was human, artificial, or something else entirely:

"Humans. We have something. And we want something."