Shadows of the Death Train

Inside the faculty apartments of Gan Shui University.

"What... what are you doing?"

Ethan's voice shook a bit, filled with fear and a strong rush of excitement.

Just moments ago, Murong Xin'er had pulled him into her room and, without warning, started taking off her clothes.

Under her heavy winter coat was a skintight bodysuit that clung to every curve of her stunning figure. Paired with her angelic face, the sight was stunning.

What virgin guy could resist this temptation?

"I'm going to stay with you for a while," Xin'er said plainly, quickly unzipping her bodysuit. "During that time, I want you to tell me everything you've seen in your prophecies."

When she was down to her underwear, Ethan panicked and turned his head away like a startled deer.

"Alright, done."

Her voice snapped him back to reality. When he turned around, she was already dressed in a loose, comfortable outfit. The skintight suit and coat were gone, neatly tucked into her spatial wristband.

Ethan felt a strange mix of disappointment and relief.

"I still don't know how to explain those two death visions," he said, his tone serious. "At one point, I thought someone had killed me."

Back to business.

"You mentioned earlier that you saw yourself being killed by a man," Xin'er said, pulling out the drawer of the study desk and sitting across from him. Her calm, piercing eyes never left his. "I gave you the full internal roster of the Apocalypse Management Bureau and a list of all players in Huaxia. Did you find anything?"

Ethan shook his head. "Nothing. I couldn't find any matches."

He had gone through hundreds of profiles and player portraits. Not one matched the face of the man who killed him in his prophetic visions.

This meant that man might not exist in reality at all.

Or worse… if he did exist, he wasn't a player in Apocalypse Online.

Ethan then recounted both of his death experiences in detail. Xin'er took out a pen and paper from her spatial wristband and started writing everything down.

Once he was done, she looked up.

"The two deaths happened in different locations, didn't they?"

Ethan frowned as he tried to remember. "Yeah… they did."

The first time, he was on the side of a city street—he couldn't see much, but it was urban, close to a road. The second time was in a filthy drainage ditch. Still within the city, but not the same place.

And his body had felt different.

He vividly remembered: he had no legs, couldn't speak, and from what he could gather, he was a crippled beggar.

Rock bottom, in every sense of the word.

Xin'er was silent for a moment, tapping the tip of her pen against the desk thoughtfully.

"This Annihilation-class scenario… It's different from the last one. The Falling Moon instance."

She looked up. "This is probably a Special Instance."

Ethan blinked. "Special Instance?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Special Instances limit most player skills and items. They use unique mechanics that force changes."

"Since Apocalypse Online began, there have been several. The last Special Instance that reached Catastrophe-class difficulty was only seven months ago."

As she spoke, she noted a few words on the paper:

Death Train

Ethan read the words and frowned.

Xin'er explained, "That was the name of a Catastrophe-class Special Instance. During Death Train, all players were banned from using any skills or items, except for prophecy-type abilities."

"In that instance, every player was placed inside a high-speed train car. Each person sat alone… or so it seemed."

Ethan leaned in slightly, intrigued.

"Each train car represented a different region. The entire instance was locked. Unlike normal Doomsday events that lasted a month, the goal here was simple—survive for seven days, and you could leave."

"Survive… just by staying inside the train?" Ethan asked, skeptical.

"Of course it wasn't that easy," Xin'er said with a faint smile. "The real challenge was this:"

Pretend you don't see the thing sitting next to you.

Ethan's heart skipped a beat.

Xin'er continued, "Everyone had two seats, but not because they needed room. Sitting beside every player was a visible but untouchable presence… an anomaly. Something terrifying, something watching."

"These creatures tried everything to grab your attention. If you reacted—even slightly—if you flinched—they would devour you on the spot."

Ethan felt goosebumps crawling up his arms.

"Some players died the moment they woke up and saw the thing's face up close. Others came back from the bathroom and found the anomaly sitting across both seats, unsure where to sit. A few brave ones tried to sit down anyway, only to be startled by a sudden scream from the anomaly—and boom. Dead."

Xin'er spoke calmly, but her words painted a gruesome image.

"That's terrifying," Ethan muttered.

Sitting next to something you could see but not react to for an entire week?

"It was a bloodbath," Xin'er said. "Nearly everyone died. And since only prophecy-type players kept their abilities, no one could resist. No one solved the cause of Doomsday. No hero ending. Just... corpses."

Ethan shivered. He thought back to his death visions.

Now that she mentioned it… he hadn't been able to use any skills either.

No movement. No voice. Crippled and mute.

Just like those trapped inside the Death Train.

"What about the last Special Instance?" he asked. "The one that wasn't Catastrophe-class?"

Xin'er thought for a moment. "That would be Cupid's Game. A twelve-player Werewolf-style social deduction instance."

Ethan nearly choked. "Werewolf? That's a Doomsday scenario now?"

She nodded. "Twelve players, three factions. Because of the third-party mechanic introduced by Cupid's Game, it wasn't a simple wolves vs. villagers match. Whichever faction won, everyone else died."

"It wasn't nearly as deadly as Death Train, so it was only rated Disaster-class."