NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 117: Day 8: Are We Ready?
The speech by Atlas and the celebration of the new houses was greeted with great applause.
“But wait, there’s more,” Atlas continued, drawing their attention to the row of smaller houses that had appeared nearby. “Have you noticed the small residences, those little houses?”
The entire group, including the newcomers, looked at the cosy homes with renewed interest. For a moment, hope flickered in their eyes—hope for a bit of privacy, for a space they could call their own in this harsh environment.
“Three of these houses are going to be on sale for anyone who’s got the coins to pay for them,” Atlas announced. “I hope you’ve been saving up.”
‘I’m definitely keeping one of these houses as my own. Rank Hath its privileges. Amber would definitely like that. No more having to fuck while within earshot of everyone.‘
“How much are they?” Alexander shouted from the back.
Atlas held up his hand. “The houses are going to be fifty coins each.”
The Portal Crushers murmured among themselves, calculating the cost. Fifty coins wasn’t too steep—it was achievable within a day or two of solid effort. The idea of having a private space, even if it was small, was enticing.
“That’s not too bad,” several of them thought, already planning how they could pool their resources or earn extra coins to claim one of the new homes.
“Wait, wait there’s even more. As you noticed we have fifty new people here today, and that shows we’ve upgraded our capacity. Previously we could support twenty people and now we can support up to one hundred people with the thanks of taking over the dungeon. With the new capacity, our PortalApproved vending machines have levelled up as well. Veterans feel free to check them out after this.
Alexander leaned over to Hank, a grin spreading across his face. "Did you hear that? New stuff in the vending machines. I bet the brewery is finally up for grabs."
Hank's eyes lit up. "Man, I've been dreaming about that brewery since Atlas first mentioned it. Imagine having our own setup here. We could brew whatever we wanted."
"Yeah, no more choking down those buff bars with nothing to wash them down," Alexander chuckled. "Real beer, brewed right in the wasteland. We’d be living the high life."
Hank nodded enthusiastically. "I’m all in. The moment we’re done here, I’m checking those machines. We’ll need to pool our coins, but it’ll be worth it."
Alexander grinned, "We could make our own stuff, maybe even trade with other settlements. That’s a game changer."
Hank smirked, "It’ll be the best thing to happen to Fort Bone since we got here. Let’s make it happen."
Atlas watched the group's reactions, pleased with the mixture of excitement and determination he saw. The promise of comfort and a bit of personal space was exactly the incentive he needed to keep morale high and productivity strong. The wasteland was a brutal place, but with the right balance of challenge and reward, his people would not just survive—they’d thrive.
After the morning speech in Fort Bone, Amber and John stood in front of the gathered newcomers, their expressions serious as they handed out contracts. The newcomers, still dazed from their recent portaling experience, glanced at the documents with confusion and disbelief. Many of them had assumed that they’d simply be surviving in the wasteland, not signing contracts or making decisions about their roles in this strange new world.
Amber started the explanation, her voice steady and authoritative. “I know this isn’t what you expected. Most of you probably thought that once you got here, everything would be provided for you. That’s not how it works. In the wasteland, everyone has to contribute. If you don’t contribute, you don’t eat. It’s as simple as that.”
John chimed in, his tone more encouraging but equally firm. “You’ve got a few options. You can choose to be a crafter, a porter, or a warrior. Each of these roles is vital to our survival and our progress. Take a moment to think about what you want to do, and then split into teams for today’s activities.”
This was definitely not what the newcomers had expected. The wasteland was shaping up to become a harder place to live than they thought.
Last night when they had gone to bed on Earth, some were thinking of their jobs the next day, some were drunk, and some were anticipating upcoming party plans.
Being portalled into the post apocalyptic wasteland after going to bed was definitely not on anyone’s to do list.
POV: UNITED NATIONS BUILDING. EARTH
In the vast, echoing chamber of the United Nations Building, tension gripped the air. Leaders from every corner of the globe had gathered, their voices rising in heated debate. The future of humanity seemed to rest on the outcome of this chaotic meeting.
"This was supposed to be a one-time event!" President Jackson slammed his fist on the table, his frustration visible as the table shook under his hand. "We were led to believe the portals would open once and that would be it!"
Premier MacAllister of Canada shook his head, eyes dark with concern. "We cannot ignore the possibility that this could happen again—and now it's clear it has. We should have been better prepared."
"I warned you all that this could happen," interjected President Liu of China, his voice calm but firm. "The show hinted at a recurring event. We should have taken it more seriously. My nation has been preparing for another portal."
President Jackson's glare snapped to Liu. "You've been preparing while the rest of us were kept in the dark? This isn't just your problem—it's a global issue!"
“The show clearly depicted monthly portals,” added Chancellor Müller of Germany. “But now they’re coming every week. The timeline is accelerating, and we are far from ready.”
"We demand the full plot of the show!" Prime Minister Darzi of the United Kingdom chimed in, his voice resolute. "Hong Sha needs to share everything with us—every detail, every episode. We need to know what else is coming."
"Agreed," Premier MacAllister nodded. "We need to get ahead of this. The fact that the portals arrived sooner than expected has thrown us into chaos."
A heavy silence briefly fell over the room as the weight of the situation settled upon them. Each leader knew the gravity of the moment—any misstep now could spell catastrophe, not just for their nations, but for the world.
President Jackson broke the silence. "We've placed our military on high alert, but this isn't just about being ready for battle. These portals can open anywhere, and we can't predict where or when they'll strike next."
Premier MacAllister nodded grimly. "Our forces are the same—told to sleep fully geared, ready to move at a moment's notice. But this isn’t a sustainable long-term strategy."
The eyes of the room shifted as Hong Sha, the showrunner who had turned Atlas’s journey into a global phenomenon, stepped forward. He looked uneasy, burdened by the responsibility that weighed on his shoulders. "I... I need to clarify something," he began hesitantly. "Atlas gave me rough notes to work with, but, honestly, I didn't realize how much of it was real until now."
The leaders’ attention honed in on him, their gazes hardening.
"What exactly do you mean?" President Liu asked, suspicion colouring his tone.
Hong Sha sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Like many showrunners, I thought I could make it more engaging. I adapted the material, made it more dramatic. I didn't stick to Atlas's canon because he hadn’t insisted on it."
This was partially true. Atlas hadn’t insisted on the show sticking to his notes, but that was mainly because he didn’t know Hong Sha would change them as soon as he was gone. The one year surprise time skip, had chopped this part of his plans apart.
‘The ratings started dropping ever since I played around with the canon, it’s probably trolls review bombing though,‘ Hong Sha thought anxiously. ‘But that couldn’t possibly be why, right?‘ He remembered when he introduced Vicky, the wheelchair-bound hero, and congratulated himself on improving the show’s diversity. ‘Sure, Atlas said the portals never took people who weren’t physically capable or children, but that didn’t exactly help the subplots I’ve been developing. It was about making the story richer, more inclusive...‘
President Jackson’s face darkened. "So you're telling us the show might not be an accurate representation of what’s happening?"
"Parts of it are true," Hong Sha responded quickly, a hint of desperation in his voice. "But some details—the timing, the specifics—I took creative liberties. I didn’t think it was necessary to follow Atlas’s notes to the letter. I didn’t realize this was all real until they all disappeared.”
Frustration rippled through the room, murmurs of disbelief and anxiety filling the air. “We need the original notes,” Chancellor Müller demanded, her voice sharp. “Not your adaptation. We need the unvarnished truth.”
Hong Sha nodded, his face drawn. "I’ll provide everything I have. But it may be too late to fully predict what happens next. We’ve been working off the script I wrote."
As the debate raged on, President Liu sat quietly, his expression calm, though his mind buzzed with quiet ambition. While the other leaders quarrelled and stumbled through the unknown, he had been preparing. ‘This is the moment we have waited for,‘ he thought.
‘The chaos caused by the portals could destabilize the rest of the world, but China would emerge stronger. Nations would falter under the strain, alliances would weaken, and in that confusion, China could rise as the new global leader. They scramble in the dark,‘ he mused, suppressing the small smile that threatened to break across his face. ‘We are prepared.‘
The show’s clues, Atlas’s notes—his advisors had taken them seriously from the beginning, while the rest of the world dismissed them as mere entertainment. But for China, this wasn’t just about survival; it was about dominance.
‘If we can harness these portals, use them to our advantage, then we shall shape the new world—and we will lead it.‘ The opportunity was clear. In this crisis, Liu saw the path to global supremacy, one that required precision and patience.
As the debate continued to swell, President Liu remained still, his gaze sweeping across the room. ‘Let the others focus on survival‘, he thought. He would focus on control, on seizing the future.
While President Liu was mentally celebrating, he didn’t know that all of the other world leaders had the exact same thoughts.