A note from Unreliable

Hello my minions! I'm back with another chapter and another shoutout!

If you want to want to watch a masochist writer sell their soul and struggle to write litrpg, look no further! Check out that Noble Ass!  

Which includes, one noble assassin, his implied noble ass, a timeloop, reincarnations, blueboxes, a constantly shifting cover art, one struggling writer, and more!

There is definitely not a gun to my head. And I was definitely not bribed. And my family is definitely safe! :)

A single step was enough to say goodbye to that twilight sky. We wasted no time in leaving the [Sleepywood], taking our rewards, Items, and anything else before pushing through that prismatic portal. There was a subtle sense of displacement before the world reasserted itself. The constant buzz of insects, the humid warmth, and the new surroundings slid into clarity. It was a welcome change in atmosphere, better this than the feeling of constantly being watched.

And even though I was ready for him, having seen him keeping watch through Third. I found myself giving Jack a tired grin, Parker, Rickson, and Rose in tow. We all but collapsed coming out, barely managing to stay on our feet.

“About time,” He said, grinning. He took one look at us though and was already moving, concern etched across his face. “What happened? Serious injuries?”

“We’ll live.” Parker gave a heavy smile, to which Rose and I hummed our agreement. None of us looked particularly well which Jack immediately picked up on.

“Shit. Let’s get you situated then.” Jack exhaled. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“We have,” I replied, exhausted.

From there, it wasn’t long until we were escorted to the semi-permanent structures that were erected by Ralph and his people. Rose and Parker looked around in tired awe. It was amazing what people could do if given the motivation. They were actual buildings constructed from wood, insulated with an assortment of shrubbery and leaves. There were resourceful people among the survivors, even without Skills. I was just as impressed the first time seeing them.

We were shown to large basins of water nearby these structures where we could rinse off the worst of the gore. Jack introduced us to a healer, a woman with the [First Aid] Skill, who treated the worst of our injuries with surprising efficiency.

“Well, none of you should be doing anything strenuous for a few weeks.” She was saying. “Between the three of you, two concussions, two instances of fractured ribs, internal bruising, countless lacerations, cuts, and scrapes. Sleep deprivation and extreme fatigue. That [Sleepywood] looks like it took its namesake from you. Get some sleep, shut-eye is the fastest road to recovery.”

She sighed and I picked up on her surface thoughts. So these are the ones Gary and Jack were talking about? I wonder what level they are. They look like they’ve been through it. Her eyes took in our injuries.

Jack blinked at us. “I trust it was worth it?” He asked, staring at us.

We all gave him tired smiles, faint but triumphant. That was enough for him.

When it was time to finally rest, I tuned into that frequency of mind, using [Telepathy] as a gauge to sense anyone nearby. It was incredibly easy to swap myself out with none the wiser, leaving a clone in my midst, and slipping into the soulspace that was [Solo’s Sanctuary].

[Solo’s Sanctuary] was just as I’d left it. Tranquility born from glass and black marble, hints of green plants poking out from planters in the walls. Soft lighting. Modern, simplistic, and beautiful. A muted space, free of worry.

I would’ve been tempted to retreat here but things weren’t so simple. As far as I was aware, I entered and exited the sanctuary in the exact same place. If I had left the group to hide in the sanctuary, leaving my clones to them, then upon exiting I’d be stranded. If one of those clones died, only my original self could renew him. That wasn’t to mention the cushion I provided as another body, particularly one with decent physical stats.

But more than that, the Skill had been… recharging. I couldn’t have stayed long even if I’d wanted to, not for days at a time. It was a reprieve, not a solution. But one which I gladly indulged in.

I stepped into the sanctuary from the front door. It felt the most natural, despite the sureness I could’ve materialized anywhere within the sanctuary. There, I made my way across the living room, through the bedroom, and into the bathroom.

And, finally, the shower. I undressed, tossing the filthy clothes onto the shower floor. Hanging my [Spidersilk Backpack] on a hook nearby. It was the only thing I could think about ever since being doused in moonlight blood. A shower. A blessing amidst this hell.


Skill: [Solo’s Sanctuary]

A personal space tied to the soul from which one may enter or exit. The size, design, and amenities are directly reflective of one’s level, abilities, and inclination. The sanctuary may only be entered by the owner.


I wondered what part of the Skill afforded running water, this quality of life. Was it a certain level that allowed a bathroom here? Or the fact I simply really appreciated a nice shower?

Nonetheless, I let the clear water wash the rest of the grime off, sloughing away like caked mud. I carefully undid my bandages, hesitant and curious. Blinking through the steam of hot water I saw only healthy flesh, my skin clearer than before.

The aches were fading now, the worst of my bruises dull pangs. The small lacerations or cuts gained from the raining debris or random shrubbery were long gone. The symbiote was effective, even now, but it took its toll.

I was exhausted beyond belief. The shower calmed my mind and I took the moment to glance at my status, eyeing the haphazard distributions.


Name: Evahn Wynst

Level: 25

Title: [Trailblazing Vanquisher of the Hivemind]

Traits: [Regenerator]

Class: [Solo]

STR: 20

CON: 31

DEX: 19

AGI: 20

PER: 21

INT: 20 + 5

WIS: 27 + 5

WIL: 29 + 5

CHA: 14 + 5

LUK: 14

Stat Points: 2

Skills: [Never Alone], [Low Profile], [Solo’s Instinct], [Solo’s Sanctuary], [Telepathy]


Somehow I could trace where I’d placed everything. The 18 Stat Points I’d saved were all thrown into my physical stats. Four in STR, CON, DEX, and AGI. Two into PER. It felt like a loss but maybe that was the hoarder in me, an instinct I’d had even before the apocalypse. To hold onto what was valuable and precious, in case I’d ever lose it again.

I had done the math a while ago. Allocating my stats for the purposes of [Never Alone] resulted in linear growth, in terms of stats. That was all well and good, if not for the limits of each individual clone which presented a unique dilemma. If the [Twilight Elemental] or [Rootmother Hivemind], for example, were equated to a bear, then even a thousand ants would do little to harm it. That would be for the case of allocating my points towards my clones, countless copies of myself, though weak physically. On the other hand, striking a balance wherein I invest in my physical stats would cut the number of my clones, but make each one individually stronger. Rather than a thousand ants, there’d instead be say… a hundred rats? It sounded better, initially. There was, obviously, more to consider for each side. Much more.

I didn’t think there was a right answer here, nor was there a wrong one. I recognized the benefits and demerits of both paths, my [Trailblazing Vanquisher of the Hivemind] Title gave me an incredible boost that helped me along both paths which was a boon. It was personal preference, but truthfully, I couldn’t discount the utility of sheer numbers.

I was a little bit disappointed that I hadn’t gotten another [Solo] Class Skill. I’d been holding out for another defining Skill that might merit the allocation of Stat Points to a particular attribute similar to [Never Alone]. I’d leveled twice from level twenty-three, and gotten nothing but the extra Stat Points. It didn’t really matter anymore though, since I’d allocated just about everything I had saved up.

I suppose I should be happy with just that if leveling worked the way I thought it did. We’d killed an Area Boss and I’d leveled only twice, which should be telling. My progress was bound to slow down. I could only imagine how much Parker, Rose, and Rickson did.

I was too tired to think more and focused on the feeling of running water.

Once I was done, I took a towel off the wall and dried off. Then without ceremony, I found my way to my bed, low to the ground and cool. It wasn’t far off to say I passed out as soon as I found its embrace. Sweet oblivion took me, my body spreading over the mattress.

I woke up blissfully, taking in my sanctuary, closing my eyes, and ‘seeing’ the world outside as well. I spent the better part of the day resting in my sanctuary, poking at its limits, trying to understand the Skill. Resting.

My clones couldn’t access this place. Only my original self was granted that ability, regardless of my clone's apparent ability to use other Skills. The sanctuary, however, was also useful to store things, something I discovered that made my [Spidersilk Backpack] obsolete. I’d been able to partially access it, like some interdimensional inventory, and had shoved my rewards through.

I stared at the [Scarce Twilight Chest]. It glowed a burnished orange. A separate illumination entirely apart from the moonlight it emitted, glowing silver as well. It was ornate, as these odd chests were, that implied promise of valuables within. I had nudged it into my sanctuary without even thinking, so tired that I’d been.

I sat on my couch, looking at it on the plush carpet of my living room, along with everything else I’d reaped from the Dungeon. Without further ado, I opened the last chest of the [Sleepywood].

It clicked open and it was only a singular Item resting on silver silk. But, somehow, I could already sense the value of it, beyond anything I’d attain from slaying a mere ifrit.


Item: [Hardlight Shelter]

A consumable item that instantly produces a semi-permanent structure made of solid moonlight. The resultant structure is affected by INT, CON, and STR. The shelter takes shape as one wills it but will dissipate if not fueled with energy.


I cocked my head at the silver disc. “Well, that’s not exactly what I was expecting,” I said. I picked it up, feeling at a rather conspicuous button. “Huh, weird.”

Oddly, I’d been expecting something fantastical. But this was more… technological? It looked like a piece of sci-fi, themed around light. I hummed, trying to parse what I knew about the apocalypse.

If magic was on the table then… was everything? I wasn’t sure. I put the [Hardlight Shelter] aside and considered the other Items I’d received from the [Sleepywood].

The [Twilight Saber], twinkling metal on a lethal edge. The [Twilight Wand], a beautifully carved wooden thing. A [Manalight Potion] that gave bonuses to mana regeneration and potency under the moonlight. A [Silkroot Sash], [Shroomshade Seeds], and a slew of miscellaneous Items that didn’t serve a particular purpose for me.

Certainly, though, I could use them to barter for things, or perhaps I could just hoard them. Not all of the rewards were combat-oriented, which was telling. Some were just useful, like the [Hardlight Shelter]. Others weren’t even that, like the [Shroomshade Seeds], which, as far as I could tell, were just the seeds for some type of mushroom.

But those weren’t the only things I’d gotten. That book that [Solo’s Instinct] had alighted upon, of moving symbols and slippery words. I took that out and glanced at it for as long as it took for my eyes to strain. There was something about that scratched the brain, a piece of alien literature.

There were also the flowers. Those silver petals that drank the moonlight, sparkling with something of the stars. I considered them for a moment, wondering if the plants which had sprouted from the [Twilight Elemental’s] starlight blood had any uses. In the end, there really was no way to be certain.

I shrugged, replanting them into the walls of my sanctuary, accenting the greenery with pops of silver. They took easily to the shallower planters along the walls, a light mist spraying over them from the walls, watering the greenery.

I hummed, looking at the installation, then looking around the sanctuary. My life had drastically changed over the course of the last month. It was incredibly ironic that this sanctuary was nicer than my previous apartment.

How exactly was it all possible?

Even the kitchen had a working stove and fridge. Regular electrical appliances as the result of an inexplicably foreign power. This strange and alien ‘system’. Somehow all of this was within its power.

The past month, it wasn’t something I had time to really ponder. Nor did most people, I imagined. But, if my entire reality was flipped upside down, the system was the only fundamental aspect of life that had changed, like the addition of another force of gravity.

The system permeated everything. It was enough for me to be sure. Whatever the advent of this apocalypse meant, the system was at the core of it.

Elsewhere, one of my clones looked up as a crowd of people approached the Dungeon entrance.

A note from Unreliable

Another longer chapter! Which, relative to most other stories, is still pretty darn short. In my eyes, this was more of relaxed chapter. Not much happened, maybe some hints here or there on the world as a whole, light worldbuilding, if you will, and maybe some allusion to some future conflict. I hate writing chapters like these because by the time I consider myself finished, I feel like I've written... fluff? There's no substance here, not that I can see, but I constantly get readers reassuring me it's just as great to read.

To each their own.

If you enjoy the story, don't forget to leave a comment, rating, or review!

Support "Solo Apocalypse"

About the author



Log in to comment
Log In

Log in to comment
Log In