Chapter 538: The Sky Fortress Departs, the Central Base Half-Destroyed

Chapter 538: Chapter 538: The Sky Fortress Departs, the Central Base Half-Destroyed

Seraphina Sullivan didn’t respond to Dexter Luther’s exclamation about the heat.

She simply looked up at the sky.

The vicious sunlight beat down, and heat radiating from the ground distorted the distant view. A scorched smell permeated the air.

The extreme daytime heat was even more brutal than the night’s. Unless absolutely necessary, no one would willingly venture out at this time.

"Use the Weather Cloud," Seraphina Sullivan said to Flora Sullivan.

Flora Sullivan nodded.

She took out the [Weather Cloud] item.

A bank of gray clouds condensed above the RV, spreading rapidly to shroud the entire vehicle in shadow.

Small hailstones began to fall from the clouds, PATTERING against the roof. The surrounding temperature visibly dropped by several degrees.

"Get in!" Dexter Luther pulled open the driver’s door, plopped into the seat, and expertly started the engine.

The others filed in, shutting the doors tight behind them.

The Weather Cloud began hailing, which cooled the RV. Being shielded from the sun by the cloud also made the vehicle safer.

Sheltered by the Weather Cloud, the group drove toward Central Base.

Silence filled the RV for a moment.

Matthew Dawson leaned against a window, gazing out at the wasteland distorted by heatwaves. He suddenly sighed. "With Chandler gone, even the driving falls to Dexter Luther."

Without looking back, Dexter Luther retorted, "What, you looking down on me? My driving is no worse than Chandler’s."

Matthew Dawson just smiled and didn’t take the bait.

But they all knew it wasn’t about driving skills.

It was about the person who was gone.

The RV wove through the ruins for nearly two hours.

The silhouette of Central Base gradually came into view.

But the first thing Seraphina saw wasn’t the base’s main gate or its familiar buildings. It was—

The sky.

Something was in the sky, flying away and disappearing from sight.

Seraphina narrowed her eyes, peering in that direction through the RV’s window.

It was a city.

A floating citadel, rapidly moving into the distance.

Its massive base cast a vast shadow, and the roar of its engines was faintly audible even from kilometers away.

Seraphina recognized the citadel.

It was Central Base’s Aerial Base.

A military fortress suspended high above the base, garrisoned by the military and a group of individuals with special status.

It was said to be Central Base’s last line of defense, as well as its safest location.

Now, it was leaving.

"What’s going on?"

Matthew Dawson saw it too, his voice laced with bewilderment. "The Aerial Base... is leaving? What about the Underground Base and the Ground Base?"

"I remember the Central Underground Base is an item. Could it have taken everyone inside along with it?"

No one could answer him.

Dexter Luther gripped the steering wheel, pressing harder on the accelerator. "I can’t imagine the chaos at Central Base right now... Sullivan, hold on tight."

The RV accelerated, heading toward the base’s ground-level area.

Central Base.

Closer and closer.

And then, Seraphina saw it.

Corpses.

So, so many corpses.

In front of the base’s gate, on the streets, among the ruins—corpses were everywhere.

Some were curled into balls; others were frozen mid-sprint.

Still others were locked in combat, their final moments spent trying to kill one another.

The ground was covered in dark red bloodstains, which had dried and cracked under the intense heat into grotesque patterns.

The RV slowly came to a stop.

The moment a door opened, an indescribable stench flooded the cabin.

It was the rancid stench of decay mixed with scorched and bloody odors, a combination so potent it was nauseating.

The intense heat was causing the corpses to decompose rapidly.

Seraphina frowned, pulled a pack of face masks from her Space, and distributed them to everyone.

"Put these on."

Everyone silently took the masks, put them on, and then exited the vehicle.

As their feet touched the ground, they could feel the scorching heat radiating up through the soles of their shoes.

It was eerily quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional gust of wind and the distant CRACKLE of something burning.

"There are people still alive," Flora Sullivan said suddenly, her gaze fixed on the main gate.

And sure enough, there was activity over there.

They weren’t Players, but ordinary people—a few individuals in crude protective suits, hauling corpses.

They heaved the corpses one by one onto a flatbed cart, pushed it to a large pit in the distance, poured an unknown liquid over the pile, and set it on fire.

The scorched odor grew even stronger.

Seraphina walked toward them.

The people started at the sight of her, then their expressions turned wary.

But when they got a clear look at Seraphina and the people behind her, that wariness morphed into... a complex mix of emotions.

"You’re... from outside the base?" a middle-aged man asked, his voice hoarse. He lowered the corpse in his hands and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Seraphina nodded. "What happened here?"

The middle-aged man fell silent for a moment before giving a bitter smile.

"The chaos... it’s just ended."

He glanced back at the field of corpses, his voice lowering. "But the cost... you can see for yourselves."

Seraphina looked at the corpses, her gaze lingering on each face for a brief moment.

Some of the corpses had remnants of purple threads on them, which were withered and clung to the skin like dried vines.

The eyes of some corpses were still purple, staring blankly, having never regained clarity before the end.

"What caused this? The base..." Seraphina asked.

"Central Base is pretty much destroyed."

The middle-aged man shook his head and sighed, his voice full of exhaustion and resignation.

Seraphina studied him.

The man wasn’t dressed like a typical survivor.

Although his clothes were stained with blood and dust, the fabric and cut were clearly those of someone in a management position.

His eyes showed exhaustion and sorrow, but not the numbness that came from a long-term struggle for survival.

"Destroyed?" Seraphina asked. "What exactly happened?"

The middle-aged man opened his mouth, as if he didn’t know where to begin.

His name was Jason Ross, a minor supervisor in Central Base’s logistics department. His rank wasn’t high, but he knew more than a few things.

When the chaos erupted, he had been taking inventory in a warehouse with his subordinates, and had luckily survived the first wave of the assault.

By the time he crawled out of the warehouse, the world outside had turned into a living hell.

"There’s too much..." he muttered, "I don’t know where to start..."

Just then, a questioning voice called out from nearby, "Seraphina Sullivan?"

Seraphina turned and saw several familiar figures approaching.

Justin Brooks was at the front.

He was much thinner than the last time she had seen him. A fresh scar stretched from the tip of his left eyebrow to his temple, not yet fully healed.

His clothes were torn in several places, and he walked with a slight limp, clearly indicating a serious injury.

Seraphina also recognized the people behind him.

There was Jasper Drake, who looked a decade older.

Wesley Moore was beside him, one lens of his glasses shattered and held together with tape. It would have looked comical, but no one felt like laughing.

There were a few other familiar faces as well, all from their time at the Vorlag Safe Zone.

"Mr. Brooks," Seraphina said, frowning at their wretched state. "What happened to you all...?"