I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse-Chapter 1912: Who Are the Gods?

Olana stood dazed, her breath hitching in her throat as she watched the display. The dense clusters of icons representing Hye’s grand fleet were thinning out at an impossible rate, fading away with every passing second.

It was yet another bizarre, reality-bending spectacle in a battle already shown such an incident minutes ago. To any observer, the sight was a cocktail of immense shock and pure disbelief.

If Olana—who had witnessed Hye’s impossible feats firsthand and stood by his side through the fire of this war—felt this level of shock, it was easy to imagine the paralysis gripping his enemies.

Across the void, the Torank commanders froze. They were utterly unable to grasp the mechanics of what they were seeing. The grand fleet they had been locked in a death struggle with was simply vanishing from the fabric of the universe.

It looked as if they possessed a cloaking technology far beyond the known limits of science, or perhaps a relic of such staggering power that it could instantly teleport a colossal number of ships to a distant coordinate. Which was literally unheard of!

By the time the Toranks shook off their stupor and realised the slaughter had ended, it was too late. The grand fleet was gone. Hye himself had vanished into the rift, and the galactic broadcast had cut to static. There was no explanation left behind, no trail to follow. Yet, in the eyes of the universe, the result of the engagement was clear.

Hye had retreated. He had fled in the face of the Toranks’ new and mysterious weapon.

This specific narrative spread like wildfire across the stars in the following days and weeks. The invincible human warlord had finally been broken. The shockwaves of this perceived defeat rippled through every star system, fueling propaganda and shifting the political tides of the war.

However, the more disturbing mystery—the impossible method by which Hye had extracted a massive fleet from an impossible trap—became a whispered obsession among the elites.

The leaders of the Great and Middle Races were less concerned with the "defeat" and far more interested in the secret of Hye’s disappearance.

Hye’s retreat had been total. He didn’t just pull back his main force; he issued a scorched-earth withdrawal order to every scattered battalions currently amassing populations across the many Hot Zones.

He acted with such cold decisiveness that he left behind dozens of unclaimed worlds and abandoned half-captured planets. He didn’t care about the lost momentum or the wasted chances.

The memory of the God Tear was a fresh, stinging wound in his mind. He knew with a bone-deep certainty that the weapon the Toranks had prepared was far worse, far more refined, and far scarier than the raw divine power he had witnessed during his trial.

When Hye had first arrived in this universe following the end of his apocalypse, he had attempted to reach out to the divine entities—the Gods—he had encountered during his apocalypse.

To his surprise, he couldn’t establish a single link. It felt as though access to the gods was a closed circuit, limited strictly to the apocalyptic trials orchestrated by the System.

This silence had birthed a radical theory in Hye’s mind: that the Gods were not part of this universe at all. They weren’t even part of the multiverse as he understood it.

Perhaps they resided in a higher dimension, or perhaps the conditions for their intervention were so rare and specific that they were effectively non-existent in the normal universe.

He had pushed those thoughts aside long ago, dismissing them as philosophical distractions. But now, he was forced to confront the truth. His enemies had found a way to bridge that gap. They hadn’t just made contact with the gods; they had learned how to harvest their power and forge it into a weapon of mass destruction.

Because he hadn’t stayed to witness the climax of the attack, the full capabilities of the weapon remained a dangerous uncertainty. He wondered what had happened when those halos of light finally coalesced at the centre of the battlefield.

He had imagined a disastrous explosion, a divine rupture that would have turned the Torank fleet into stardust—yet, no such news reached him. There were no reports of catastrophic Torank losses following the engagement.

"They either covered up their losses with masterful efficiency, or that weapon had a singular focus," Hye mused, his voice echoing in the vast silence of his throne room. "Maybe it was tuned only to target my Soulers and Reapers."

He sat on his throne in the heart of his capital city, located at the ragged periphery of the universe. The grandeur of his surroundings felt hollow. He was operating on a ticking clock; in less than a few days, his scheduled meeting with the Hescos would arrive.

He was still torn between two paths: joining forces with them for a new adventure or staying to defend his own borders against this new threat.

"I need more information about that weapon," Hye muttered, shaking his head to clear the fog of uncertainty.

He opened his message interface, his eyes locking onto the one he had sent to Moth the moment he had returned to the capital. Information was the only currency that mattered now, and he was prepared to pay any price to find the source of the Toranks’ "God-Killer" tech, or gather more intel about its real abilities and effects!

It had been five days since he reached out to Moth, demanding any scrap of intelligence regarding the Toranks’ new hexagonal weapon. The silence was deafening. Even for a man as elusive as Moth, a five-day blackout was an answer in itself.

"Even the Hescos were taken by surprise by that weapon," Hye softly murmured to the empty throne room.

His mind drifted back to a recent conversation with Olana. When he had pressed her for information on these "Gods," she had offered a shrug and a collection of galactic myths.

In her circles, the strongest races and forces viewed the Gods as nothing more than bored System administrators—higher-ups who enjoyed meddling in the various apocalypses to make the entertainment more unpredictable or to test new variables in the grand trial.