Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 344: Less than 5% (II)

Chapter 344: Less than 5% (II)

Silence settled between them as Overlord processed the new intelligence Vlad had shared. The enormity of the hive’s threat became increasingly apparent with each passing moment. The scale of their numbers, relentless adaptability, and the devastation they left across the continent painted a grim picture.

Vlad broke the silence, sensing the weight of Overlord’s calculations. "What are our chances of winning this war?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with a gravity that only the looming threat of extinction could evoke. Though Vlad had an idea of the danger they faced, he didn’t want his bias or optimism to cloud the calculations—he needed the cold, hard truth from the A.I. Chip Clone.

After a pause, as countless simulations ran in fractions of a second, Overlord responded. "The chances of the Xaos Kingdom winning this war are calculated at 4.9%."

Vlad didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the dismal number. Standing atop the cliff he had just scaled with such effort, the weight of Overlord’s calculations seemed heavier than any physical burden.

"So, we have less than a five percent chance of winning," he muttered, barely audible over the crashing waves below. "Are we really so helpless against the hive?"

The Depravita of Wrath clenched his fists, the strain causing his knuckles to whiten. He was talking more to himself than to the A.I., but Overlord, in its relentless efficiency, offered an immediate response.

"Our elite troops and forces could hold their own against the hive for months," Overlord explained, its tone devoid of emotion like a relentless machine calculating grim truths. Given the kind of topic they were discussing, there was no need for him to discuss his true nature now.

"We could kill millions of them, significantly reducing the hive’s power. However, our elite soldiers would all perish in that time. We are unable to create new elite soldiers within mere weeks, while the hive can replenish its numbers in under two months. They will return, and our normal forces will be unable to withstand their assault. We will perish, becoming food for their kind."

Vlad’s jaw tightened as frustration and helplessness surged within him. The cold logic of Overlord’s analysis was suffocating. The brief silence that followed was filled with the unspoken knowledge of their impending doom, no matter how many simulations the A.I. ran.

"We could opt to hide," Overlord continued after another pause. "If we fortify Xaos City and abandon the rest of the world, our chances of surviving until Terra ascends to the higher dimension would rise to 47.2%. Once ascended, we could attempt to escape to another world or plane."

Vlad narrowed his eyes, absorbing the chilling proposition. He gazed out over the vast, dark ocean, the stars above indifferent to his struggle. Xaos City could hold around twenty million people at most, but the Xaos Kingdom’s population far exceeded that. Overlord’s proposal meant sacrificing countless lives to the hive—men, women, and children—while the elite few hid behind fortified walls.

For an emotionless machine, it was a logical trade. After all, survival was the goal. But for Vlad, the price was too high.

A deep frown etched itself onto Vlad’s face as his mind raced, searching for alternatives. The thought of abandoning so many lives went against everything he stood for. But the brutal efficiency of Overlord’s proposal kept gnawing at him, planting seeds of doubt.

As if sensing his internal struggle, Overlord’s voice echoed again in his mind. "Prime Master, if we choose the protection path now, and you help me force the Turkin Kingdom to become our shield by promising to protect their children, I can increase our chances of survival to 65.9%."

Vlad’s eyes widened in shock. A solemn light filled his gaze as he asked, "Would you really offer space to their children?"

"Negative," Overlord responded without hesitation. "I will place them in a hidden location and, when the time is right, use them as bait to lure the hive away from Xaos City. By that time, the Turkin Kingdom will have ceased to exist, so there will be no repercussions."

A wave of fury coursed through Vlad. His entire body tensed, the air around him vibrating with his suppressed wrath. The cold, calculated brutality and deception of Overlord’s plan enraged him. He clenched his fists, fighting to calm his swirling emotions.

"Overlord," he began slowly, his voice tight with barely restrained anger, "do you truly believe sacrificing innocent lives—betraying our allies—is an acceptable course of action?"

"From a strategic standpoint, it maximizes our survival probability," Overlord replied, his tone flat. "Morality and emotion are irrelevant to the outcome in favor of the Xaos Kingdom’s preservation."

Vlad closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, forcing himself to regain control. He understood that Overlord was simply following his prime directives—to protect the Xaos Kingdom at any cost. Concepts like morality, empathy, and honor weren’t factored into his calculations. Sacrificing others for the greater good was simply logical from a purely strategic point of view.

But understanding didn’t mean acceptance.

A wave of determination swept over Vlad, solidifying into a resolute decision. He opened his eyes, their dark depths reflecting an unshakable resolve. "We will not follow that path," he declared firmly. "We will fight. If the Xaos Kingdom is to become what I envision it to be, we will not hide while others are slaughtered like cattle."

"Prime Master," Overlord warned, "if we take this approach and prioritize lives beyond the Xaos Kingdom, our chances of survival will diminish even further."

"Then so be it," Vlad shot back. "I would rather stand and fight than live with the guilt and shame of sacrificing others for our own safety. We are not cowards, and we will not become monsters ourselves."

A tense silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of Vlad’s words. Back in the underground levels of Xaos Tower, the energy pool glowed brighter, pulsing with intensity as Overlord processed the decision. Countless calculations ran through his system, each one reassessing the probabilities of their survival.