The group-stage teams fought fiercely, each match leaving both sides battered. Except for the Southeast Asian team, whose overall roster was admittedly weaker compared to other regions, every other team ignited real flames of competition. Nearly every team ended the group stage with a 1–1 record, something never seen in previous tournaments.

Even the commentators could no longer predict who would reach the end. Unless a team had been hiding special tactics for the winners’ and losers’ brackets, it was impossible to determine which squad held the true upper hand.

Even the reigning champion of the first World Tournament, the Sunflower Team, performed only average, similar to the rest. This year’s event seemed to have no overwhelming favorites and apparently no dark horses either.

While the world tournament raged on, investors spontaneously organized offline Arknights events. Exhibitions, themed restaurants, character merchandise, and more appeared one after another. Players flocked to these events with great enthusiasm. The best-selling item turned out to be the “Pioneer Body Pillow,” purchased not only by female players but by a significant number of male players as well.

After five long days, the group stage finally concluded. The remaining forty-eight teams would play another best-of-three round to determine who advanced to the winners’ bracket and who dropped into the losers’ bracket.

Yanyu Pavilion’s opponent was Japan’s Maou Team. Although they had also joined Tomorrow’s Development, their activity routes had been different, and only a few of them had been selected into the Emperor’s Children Corps. Their interactions with Yanyu Pavilion were limited.

This stage consisted of three matches: a solo match, a duo match, and a team match. The order was determined by drawing lots, and the best-of-three would decide the winner. The solo match was the well-known Solo PVP. The duo match featured three two-player pairs battling on a simulated map. The team match was the final all-out confrontation.

The Maou Team only had a few standout players, so the team match was not a major concern. Yanyu Pavilion simply needed to prevent the opposing side from stealing a win in the solo or duo rounds.

The match day arrived quickly. The large arena had been divided into eight sections, allowing sixteen different teams to compete simultaneously. As captain, Yanfei naturally volunteered to go first, meeting the opposing captain head-on to establish momentum.

Yanfei had reached level 60 early on. Her skill set was extensive, and her sniping style was one of the most visually appealing. With enough points invested in Strength, she could also switch into an aggressive sniper role and pick off enemy names from afar.

She gambled correctly. The Maou Team’s captain visibly darkened upon seeing her take the stage. Yanfei’s smile brightened with satisfaction. Once the battlefield selection ended and the match officially began, she won the 1v1 solo round in just two minutes. Four more battles awaited Yanyu Pavilion afterward.

Under the best-of-five format, Yanyu Pavilion lost only one small match. The next draw placed the team match last, which was perfect for them. They had trained relentlessly for this moment.

Yanyu Pavilion’s snipers were exceptionally diverse in style. In team battles, their sniper squad acted as the primary damage core, while the frontliners and defenders held the enemy forces at bay, creating enough space for their ranged units to unleash volleys of fire. It was a distinctive strategy unique to Yanyu Pavilion.

The Maou Team knew they were likely to lose, yet they still stepped onto the battlefield with determination.

The rolled map was a jungle terrain. For American players, seeing a terrain like this might trigger immediate PTSD, because people hid everywhere in the dirt, behind trees, and sometimes inside tree hollows.

Soon the jungle erupted with gunfire like a torrential storm. Explosions shook the terrain and players’ pained cries echoed between the trees. The fight barely lasted a single exchange before five players from the Maou Team were already down. Yanfei and her sniper squad focused their fire with overwhelming force, demonstrating what true firepower supremacy looked like. After five minutes, the Maou Team was wiped out and dropped to the losers’ bracket.

Yanyu Pavilion advanced into the winners’ bracket and would next face another team in a best-of-three to continue advancing.

Once the winners’ and losers’ brackets began, teams gradually started pulling out hidden trump cards. Tactical shifts, rarely used skills, and special strategies surfaced one after another.

Players watching from the stands were thrilled. Seeing professional players annihilate opponents live in the arena was an entirely different experience compared to watching it on a screen.

Some teams with weaker strength, or unlucky ones who faced top-tier opponents early on, fell into the losers’ bracket. Teams continued to be eliminated throughout this stage. Southeast Asian and North American teams were knocked out the fastest, while European and East Asia teams held strong until the end.

In the final twelve teams, four were from the Chinese region, four from Europe, and two from Korea, and two from Japan. As the saying goes: “half the river grows bleak while half burns red.” The East Asia chances of taking the championship soared. Combined with the Kazdel home-ground advantage, the audience roared with cheers every time the team competed.

Five days later, the top four were decided: China’s Yanyu Pavilion, Japan’s Ice Rose, Europe’s Warrior Team, and Korea’s T1 Team. Yanyu Pavilion would face Tyrant in the winners’ finals. The loser would face the winner between Warrior Team and T1 in the losers’ finals.

As for Dynasty Team, who had dreamed of taking the second world championship, they unfortunately fell early, ending in fifth to sixth place.

The strength of Ice Rose’s team, Kumori, was not to be underestimated. As the corps commander of the third legion, their leader carried immense prestige and formidable power. Perhaps their only weakness was large-scale team battles, but in individual and duo matches they could completely crush their opponents. This time, they entered the winner’s bracket finals with an overwhelming, almost invincible momentum.

Yanyu Pavilion was equally strong, and players eagerly awaited the clash between these two giants. They also hoped that whichever team fell into the loser’s bracket could fight their way back, turning the grand finals into a full arena showdown.

While the matches raged on, Felix received another message from Kristen inviting him over. He arrived once more in front of the underground chamber’s door. During this period, Clever had spent several months attempting to decipher the lock’s code. Only last week had it finally detected a pattern—similar in some ways to that of the precursors, yet in other places entirely different.

Felix sat alone outside the sealed door. Kristen and the others were unable to come due to their duties. He quietly watched the door, overseeing Clever’s ongoing work.

The display panel beside the door glowed with a calm blue light. After staring at it for a long while, Felix suddenly stood and stepped toward the small screen.

He reached out experimentally. The screen did not react. He paused, then removed his glove.

The moment his bare palm pressed onto the surface, the door emitted a deep rumble. Faint lights around the frame brightened one by one. In the darkness, fading red lines slowly receded.

The door began to open.

Felix withdrew his hand and steadied his breathing, forcing himself to remain calm.

Then, he stepped inside.

The dim chamber revealed rows upon rows of cryogenic stasis pods, exactly like the schematics he had once obtained. He had even built one himself. Theresa now slept within it, deep within the core of the Venus. But unlike Theresa’s functional stasis pod, the pods here were long extinguished; their occupants had long since turned to ash.

These high-tech cryo pods were coffins.

Felix approached one and bent down. A thick layer of dust coated its surface. Through the glass, there was no longer anyone inside.

No biological identifiers, no recorded names, no past, no future. Felix lifted his gaze toward the far end of the room, where a hollow sphere of black and red threads floated silently. The only word that came to mind was: an eye.

“…”

He felt it watching him.

“Where is this place?”

He glanced back. The door had not closed. Several Clever units hovered near him, ready to evacuate him at the first sign of danger.

“… This is the past.”

A synthesized male voice spoke slowly. With each shift in tone, the sphere’s red glow brightened and dimmed.

“Are you from the precursors?”

“…”

The male voice fell silent for a moment, as if observing the Clever units floating at Felix’s side.

“Your deduction is more accurate than I expected.”

“I am Friston. You may call me the Preserver.”

“Felix. You may call me Pioneer.”

The red lights flickered gently.

“Pioneer… such a familiar yet foreign title. We once were Pioneers too, but we lost the courage to forge ahead. Once, we scholars were filled with boundless curiosity for the unknown.”

“But you intrigue me. Pioneer… your biological signature is not that of a simple Terra native.”

Friston continued, “Just now, I conducted a scan of several hundred kilometers around us, recording the biological data and mental signatures of this planet. You appear to be somewhat unusual… no, you are the most unusual of all.”

He paused, then seemed to chuckle.

“Terran. Adventurer. Interesting.”

“The fate of my fellow survivors ends here, but there are still embers yet to be extinguished.”

Felix frowned. Even from these few sentences, he had gathered much. This being belonged to the precursors era that always loomed in the background of history. Their technology was clearly advanced beyond imagination. As for the ‘hope’ Friston spoke of…

“This world has been reset before.”

Friston spoke calmly. The eye continued to watch Felix, without hostility, only quiet observation. “Based on my data and the remaining energy from the precursors, it has happened more than once.”

“A reset world? What does that even mean? Are you telling me everything here is fake?”

“It is exactly what the words imply.”

Friston, like a patient scholar, began to explain. “Before the fall of the precursors, several scholars cast one final look toward this world. They saw that the planet called Terra would face an extinction-level calamity in the future. All traces of civilization would be reduced to ash. So, in order to allow the planet to continue existing, they sought help through consciousness transmission.”

“We existed in a lower-dimensional universe. Only a higher, more complete dimension could project consciousness into this one, into this planet. And so, there came ‘you.'”

“Whether you, as ‘players,’ could save this world—and by extension influence the fate of the lower-dimensional universe—was the core focus of their observation.”

Felix rested his chin on his hand. “So you’re saying this place and ‘Earth’ are not in the same spacetime?”

“You can think of it that way. We are not beings of the same dimension.”

Friston showed no irritation at being interrupted. “You come from a higher-dimensional universe. Even though our technology had reached its peak, we still could not cross dimensional barriers, nor avoid the destruction of our race.”

“Let me continue. At the beginning, this world was only a sandbox, a single simulation. According to my calculations and the residual energy left behind, the world has been reset at least three times.”

“They observed your decisions as players, your reactions, your choices… how you felt about this world, your attitude toward Terrans, and your understanding of its structure.”

Friston paused before continuing. “The first simulation failed.”

“Terra was devoured by the Seaborn and turned into a blue oceanic sphere. That destruction became etched into the originum itself. Civilization vanished. Fortunately, it was only a simulation. Players had their memories wiped and returned to the moment they first put on their gaming helmets. Then the second simulation began.”

“An extraterrestrial species set its sights on Terra. In the second simulation, they appeared in the north, corrupting the land. Nations collapsed. War spread. Under relentless invasion, civilization fell. The second simulation ended.”

Friston stopped for a moment. “The remaining energy of the precursors was no longer enough to sustain a fourth full simulation. So in the third one, they no longer relied on all the players. Instead, they searched for a single individual, the only one….”

“And they found him.”

Felix sensed that Friston was looking directly at him.

“Someone who could lead Terrans and adventurers forward. One who possessed both Terran and adventurer memories. One who could guide Terra in resisting annihilation… The One and Only.”

“What you experienced before, that so-called ‘game,’ or more accurately, those memories… that was the final simulation.”

Friston fixed his gaze on Felix. “Now, this is reality. There will be no more resets.”

Felix remained silent for a long time.

“Why they chose you, I do not know. I am only a passerby, a ghost, a keeper of a dead civilization’s tomb.”

Friston let out a quiet sigh. “The Preserver Project I was responsible for has already failed. We attempted to preserve precursors humans through cryogenic stasis, hoping they would awaken after the originum project was complete. But the energy ran dry long ago. What I guard and preserve now are only the remnants of the precursors.”

“Were your colleagues the ones who created the simulations?”

Friston answered with weary bitterness. “Some wanted to safeguard the past. Others chose to place their hopes in the future. I wished to protect them, so I created the Preserver Project. But there were those who entrusted the final hope to you and the Terrans. That is why you exist, why the adventurers exist, and why the Terrans still stand.”

“The precursors chose you. She… or perhaps I should say we… have asked for your help, Felix.”

“I do not know the details of the project, but its name is recorded in my archive.”

The synthesized voice spoke quietly. “You are the fourth attempt after three simulations, and this time it is real. Spirits from high-dimensional universes vary wildly, unpredictable yet incredibly active. Some pass unnoticed, some shine brilliantly, and their destructive power can rival Terra’s natural catastrophes.”

“The project was named the Fourth Impact.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep