The day seven billion people disappeared around the world, I was sucked into nothingness.
There are no monsters, no resources, just me, and a line of characters that appear in front of me so familiar that it makes me want to cry:
[Local archives detected: 127. Load?
I chose "yes" shakily.
So, the survivors struggling in the corrupt mire bought compressed biscuits with the "△○×□" mark from the trading terminal;
The legions on the Bone Wasteland saw the signal flares that did not belong to any magic streaking across the sky;
Until that day, the army of the Shadow King's Court pressed forward, tearing apart the space, and what they saw was a giant city made of steel.
On the city wall, red stone circuits flickered on and off like breathing.
The city gate opened, and the troops walking out were on the left were soldiers wearing power armor and holding Gauss rifles, and on the right were mages riding griffons and chanting spells.
I was sitting in the command center, and on the screen were real-time monitoring images of six abyss levels.
"Welcome," I announced to the entire abyss through the microphone, "to the seventh floor - the 'Civilization Archives'."
"Now, play by my rules."
